The arrow was nailed to the tree trunk, and Uriel could "see" the magic power fluctuations without looking back. He picked up a wooden bow that the green elf had discarded and nocked an arrow to return the favor. The magic exploded in the shrubs, the leaves fell to pieces, the branches were shattered into pieces, and the green elf hiding behind did not fire any more arrows.
"This is the last one." A voice came from the shadow, "We have to speed up. Do you see that branch?"
Uriel raised his head, the forest leaves intertwined into a network, and the dark green covered the sky. "You can see it. Should I jump over?"
"If your magic is enough-"
"Of course it's enough." The apprentice sank into the shadows, and his feelings changed accordingly. His body gradually flattened, losing form and color, leaving only outlines. He stretched out his hand, and his limbs flew to the treetops like hooks and hung on the trembling branches. But from the outside, his arms were broken a dozen times, and he climbed up the tree through shadows that interspersed with each other.
The body's fall stopped immediately. Uriel jumped hard and stood among the branches in the blink of an eye. The birch trembled, bearing his weight. Only dust fell into the leaf litter.
"About how much time do we have?" he asked.
"Half an hour at most. The forest is full of their eyes, maybe we'll run into a trap."
"At least?"
"Next second. It could be at any time." Dalton said truthfully. Fighting nature spirits in the Shimmering Forest, the situation couldn't be too bad. "You really don't need a substitute?"
"No, I won't use it for the time being." In fact, I never use it. Uriel even had a "spiritual vision" during his stay to accurately determine when the next wave of attackers would catch up with them. "Let our guide show us the way, Dalton. Tell him that the longer we stay in the forest, the greater the damage to the forest race will be. This is not what we want to see."
There was a noise in the shadows, as if someone was arguing. Not every oil-rubber little human is as easy to deal with as Sparrow Wine. Uriel originally wanted to ask his old friends for help, but the secret language of nature brought him a new partner. It has little interest in hot cocoa, but is very fond of alcohol, thanks to the contribution of the bard Shatter Alper's flagon. As for the name, this little oil-rubber humanoid refused to let go at all, and Uriel had no good solution. Forget it, it didn’t deceive us anyway.
"Go north," the acorn-sized tour guide instructed.
Uriel identified the woods. "Can you change the direction?"
"Then you have to re-route. Which way do you want to go?"
"West." The little rubber man stuck out his tongue and licked his forehead, showing a confused look. Uriel was not going to explain: "Just to the west, okay?"
"If you insist." It replied nonchalantly.
It was not the apprentice's intention to provoke the green elf, but the incident happened suddenly and was unavoidable. Uriel did not dare to use magic indiscriminately, lest he fall into sleep due to fatigue and return to Mortus again. The consequence of not using "spiritual vision" was that something went wrong when they climbed a hill. Uriel did not expect that there was a trap for trapping animals deep in the Shimmering Forest, and he triggered the alarm without knowing it.
Saint Valoran refuses human entry. Maybe they should take a detour and go through Scraguk. But in this case, it will take several times more time, because the latter refuses the entry of the Bures people. Uriel, York, and Dalton were all Eastmans, and the Paperclip Mercenary Regiment was also famous in Scraguk, but the border soldiers could only see that they were coming from the direction of Bulles. To make matters worse, Skraguk is a neutral country and does not belong to any mysterious fulcrum. They have every reason to ignore the messenger from the tower, and then teach Uriel and his companions to wait at the border for several months.
Crossing Holly Canyon was dangerous, but that was for caravans and travelers. It is impossible for the forest race to have the exceptional level of combat power of the Silver Song Paladin. After being discovered by the nature spirits, they either run away or simply encounter a void like Ms. Mabel's, unable to escape even if they want. The former can only cause slight setbacks in the plan, and the probability of encountering the latter is low. Even if they are really unlucky, the ending seems to be good - I must turn back to Holly Canyon, Uriel thought, or simply terminate this journey. Only the Prophet and Otto could tell where they were going, I just had to move forward.
When the journey was almost over, Uriel stopped insisting and changed shifts with Dalton. He realized that the side effects of the Scroll of Oath had gone beyond the convenience brought by the unlimited supply of magic power. Confessions interfered with the dream, constantly chipping away at his willpower. If I continue like this, sooner or later I will get lost in Mortus during the Ancestor Era, and then be caught red-handed by the Black Knight. At this time, the apprentice began to feel grateful that he was not alone.
During the break, he tapped his ring, "Sauron?"
The runes flickered slightly.
"Let's do some bedtime stories, man, I think I can stay awake for now." The one-week limit is still far away. "Where did you talk last time?"
The "White Prophecy" ring wrote, "Bedtime story?" Why don't you want to feed me?"
Even the poet Saudi has Ms. Klea to listen to his complaints, but I only have Sauron. Uriel had known that it would be impossible to prescribe a cure. "We are going deep into Saint Valoran." He whispered, "This is the only way to go, we can't go around it."
"Now you want to ask me for psychological development, apprentice?" A little moderate pressure will be good for you"
"I have to be responsible for everyone's life. Is that a little stressful?"
"How noble. How many more times do I have to tell you? This is not your choice alone. They have free will and they don’t have to ask your opinion on everything.』
free will. Uriel thought of the so-called "free men" in Mortus. They were actually bandits who had no feelings for each other. They were only interested in profit and had no regard for life and death. The apprentice had no empathy with them. However, Bai Zhizhi is different. He is responsible for Croita's safety and is the guardian of order. Uriel could feel the weight of authority every time he saw him. There is no smile, no weakness, no hesitation on the messenger's face. He controls the power like an arm and a finger, and his grasp of mentality is never deviated. In any case, the apprentice could not imagine him wavering, even when they confessed the fact that demonic power existed.
But that dream came true.
Your mentor also has a moment of freedom, the dream tells him so. He is full of emotions, calm, and comes and goes like the wind. Nothing restrains him, not even morality or law. That was true freedom. Driven solely by savage instincts that were more primitive than this forest, he could do whatever he wanted in the wilderness. His eyes were burning with the passion of life, his body moved forward and backward according to his own will, his anger and high fighting spirit surged in his limbs... Uriel closed his eyes, recalling the connection between the White Envoy and this name. All the impressions came up, but no matter how he searched, he only felt cold.
That's not true at all, they're almost two people. The library of the church contains many precious books, including information on dreams. Uriel agreed with the statement in the book about the dream ocean and the anchor point of will. The causes of dreams are very complex, not to mention mixed dreams caused by mysterious objects. I mistakenly identified a stranger as a mentor, a disciple, or simply "Confessions" chose the wrong material when creating a dream. Dreams are the embodiment of desire. I hope to see the anchor point return to reality, but do not want to see hanging and death, so the world changes. That's it. What other explanation can there be?
"You fell asleep? Are you still listening?
He came back to his senses: "Where did you talk about it?"
The frost-condensed writing shattered into snowflakes with a bang. The ring realized that its writing was in vain and decided to ignore him again.
…
"They didn't catch up." The little rubber man yawned and muttered, "This is really rare."
"You expect them to come after you?" Dalton said.
"Of course not. Although I don't like nature elves either, they are also a forest race and followers of Heather." It replied, "Saint Valoran guards the most primitive Cangzhi Forest, and this is not a place where humans should come. All forest races will help them drive away outsiders, but we didn’t encounter any pursuers!”
"It's not your fault." York said, "The astrologer and the dark elementalist want to hide, it's normal that you can't find them."
"The Blue Forest doesn't welcome Sita either." It said listlessly, "There are no loopholes in the green elves' siege. I hope we can be so lucky in the future."
"It's you guys."
The dense forest seemed to be oozing grease, the ground became increasingly damp and muddy, and the shadows of the trees were tangled, trying their best to create obstacles. Aerial roots covered the spring, and the vines were so smooth they looked almost man-made. Uriel knew that there was a cave behind it, one of the two exits leading to the legendary elven green land Viteshwasa, and the other leading to the Autumn Leaves Walkway. The former is the center of Saint Valoran, the latter their destination. However, the night elves looked at those delicate rattans and could not see any traces of humans or even animals coming in and out. This is a natural cave that has not been visited before.
Uriel knew their end.
The tip of the sword parted the vines. The cave is dimly lit, damp and cold, and Dalton cannot use the shadows to travel through the cave. Most of his magic requires dark elements, and a few rely on shadow. However, light and shadow coexist. Without light, there will be no shadow. Pure darkness will only cause obstacles. The "Shadow Attack" cannot pass through the cave, so they have to walk the rest of the way on their own.
"It's slippery," Dalton warned as the poet set his feet carefully. "York, please turn it a little brighter." The firelight reflected on the stone wall. "Uriel. Uriel? Where are you?"
"He fell asleep."
"Asleep?" Dalton couldn't help but turn around. Minutes ago he had questioned the direction of travel and listened to the tower apprentice bicker with his mentor's ring.
"Ms. Cleia," York said seriously, "This is all her fault."
The female doctor glanced at him: "I did this at the request of Mr. Soren Gessen."
"What did it ask you to do?"
"Let our Lord Messenger rest for a while. That's all."
Dalton saw the emerald green potion bottle in her hand and didn't know what to say for a moment. "You sedated him?" He recognized the thing. The cicada slough potion is so potent, hell, you might as well just knock him out.
Cleia shrugged, "The White Envoy's assistant asked me to put it in the kettle. By the way, have any of you ever drank the wine from the kettle?"
Before she finished speaking, the little oil-rubber man fell to the ground and snored softly. "Do you still need to ask?" Dalton answered, holding back his headache, "Now we don't have a tour guide."
Fortunately, there are still torches. York walked in the middle, carrying the tower messenger on his back, followed closely by the poet and physician Clea. Alone, Dalton searches for a path in the darkness.
This place used to be a river, ancient, dark, and silt-filled. Even if it has been abandoned for decades, the ravines will still be filled with rock and soil during the rainy season. He even saw a crab shell. The night elf stood in the middle of the cave that smelled of earth, and every particle of dust whispered to him. Come back, Tinnudar raised you, come back, your destination is only Yunjing. They all stared at him in silence, arms outstretched to him, as if the long journey to the surface was an illusion and the moon could be seen through the opening. He had never missed his hometown before, but now he was filled with sorrow about the hometown he could not return to.
I need pull, Dalton thought, something to hold me in place. That's not love, Ingrid tells him. Not loyalty either, DeWitt taunted him. Not out of hatred, Uriel warned him. After the great revenge is avenged and the church is reformed, where will he go? Knox's future has nothing to do with him, and the safety of order is far away from him. The feeling of being relieved of responsibility is like taking off armor, light and exposed. Darkness surrounded him. Maybe I should die halfway, lest I suffer the pain of being lost for the rest of my life.
The cursed sword nailed a centipede to death.
"Which is more poisonous, this thing or your sword?" York asked enthusiastically.
"I guess it's a sword," the poet Saud replied.
"No, I also want to guess the sword."
"They're all wrong." Dalton interrupted them. "Steel can't poison bugs. It's a mystery." He shook off the small body on the tip. "There will be more bugs inside. Everyone, be sure not to get bitten. Insects are more terrifying than beasts. You will know when the time comes."
"Clea, can you detoxify me?" The poet turned his head.
"A small number can." The doctor gave a disturbing answer. "I have never been so deep into the Shimmering Forest. There are many rare species here. If we are lucky enough to encounter something new, then don't count on me. .”
"I know, I know, this kind of thing will inevitably happen." The poet said reasonably. He turned his head back again: "If we change the line..."
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