"Is this here?"
"That's right. Listen, there is also the noise of the typewriter inside. It's louder than the trumpet at night."
"But the steps are full of dust! Does anyone really live in a place like this?"
"That's the bizarre thing. Customers just open their mouth into the mailbox and pay through the crack in the glass, and they get a typed letter. No one needs to go in, and the people inside never leave."
"No one can live without going out."
"So we call it the 'Haunted Mansion'."
Uriel looked at the glass, which was covered by thick curtains and could not see anything. "A very appropriate title. Maybe there really is a ghost living inside, and he is a well-educated gentleman. How many commissions will he accept at one time?"
The guide hesitated. "No one has tried it. If someone tries to get into the house, or walks side by side in front of the mailbox, they disappear and reappear in the stables behind the house. The detection station can't find out why. They just drive away the customers. Walk."
"But you will come back."
The guide shrugged. "Where can you find a typist willing to write to the poor? A ghost charges less than a living person. I guess it's because he doesn't have to eat or drink."
"Most likely. This is the final payment."
After receiving the commission money, the guide's attitude became cold. This was different from the adventurers Uriel had seen. He could only blame it on the characteristics of the Black City. The highest criterion here is transaction. Once the transaction is completed, both parties must become strangers and cannot make convenience to old customers for any reason. In the Black City, only the great guilds and nobles would consider the exchange of favors.
"Lucia protects fair trade," the Paladin Captain told him. After the apprentice helped lift the carriage, he softened his attitude. "That is absolute justice that is not affected by any factors. Your Gaia is the defender of justice, and he also has an iron-blooded side. But in the final analysis, the functions of gods are different, and pagans like you will not understand."
"Then the Merchant Guild still comes to the detection station to build relationships?"
"The exception is Black City merchants. This damn place only limits fair transactions between mortals. Adventurers are still bandits, let alone the Chamber of Commerce. Lucia is also the God of Justice, but you see, in the eyes of these locals, Isn’t it just money?”
Lemons' hatred of the Black City is clear, but Uriel doesn't know why he doesn't do something about it. Gaia Church was stuck in the same situation before, but now it is on the right track. The Black City is just a border town, and the Glorious Council is more powerful than Uriel and his friends. They have the ability to solve the problem, but for unknown reasons, they have not taken action yet.
Alliance members really like it here. "Anyway, we need a place to guarantee transactions." Tekapo said, "All the specialty products of Burles can be bought here. People call this the City of Sin, and define the Black City Coin as the cheapest currency. , but if you ask me, without the Black City, the crime rate in other places would double. Because the worse the adventurers are, the more they like cities with weak detection stations, and they will come here after hearing the news and settle here. .”
"No one's after them? Like the Sheriff who's hungry for a promotion."
"Kagat Talanitas protects criminals with laws. In Compass Heights, the emperor's orders have to be discounted, and only the oracles can pass unhindered - needless to say what kind of oracles they are. Anyway, they are not conveyed to the world by agents. Yes." Patience told him, wrinkling her nose.
"But because of this, Black City also has great powers. The most obvious example is that it can digest the Alliance's goods, which other markets cannot do." She fiddled with the stone beads around her neck, "A good appetite has great energy. If you want Nothing is difficult in the Black City if you seek help."
After Uriel confesses that he is looking for a historian, Patience uses a special pansy to obtain an address, which she gives to her apprentice to prove that she is right. But the address is prefixed with "Ghost Mansion."
"The key is patience." She pointed out, "That ghost place is not the scholar's residence, but the people inside know the other party's real address. You need to make a transfer."
"The detection station doesn't know, but the ghost knows?"
"There are people who know everything that happens under the sun, Uriel. Our limits are not mysterious limits. Let's go, young man, and try your luck. After all, a guy who knows too much always wants to talk, and she will be happy Your opinion."
Uriel never relied on luck. He wandered in front of the mansion, looking for a foothold to climb and a gap for people to pass through. He knew the druid's spell to turn into an animal. All it took was a hairline crack...but there wasn't one. The fine lines in the wall, the gaps in the tiles, and the scars in the cement all disappeared, and the room seemed to be one whole.
Now it is almost certain that the people living inside are definitely not alive. Mysterious creatures also have to breathe, and a completely sealed space will kill people. Uriel cautiously felt the fire, but he did not detect the Nameless One. Are they other mysterious races? For example, the water fairy... The apprentice thought of Gopher and her master. It's not my fault that this place is so evocative.
"Is anyone there?" He knocked on the door.
Not surprisingly, no one responded. But Uriel was not sent to the stable either. Of course, the guide may talk nonsense and not tell the truth, but now is not the time to blame the other person's credibility. He seized the opportunity and pushed the door hard.
With a click, the door shaft broke, and the metal even protruded out of the wood. Uriel quickly held the door panel and moved it aside. It seemed reasonable that the "Ghost Mansion" was in disrepair, but he felt that things should not have turned out that way. "I'm sorry. Is anyone here? Hello?"
Still no one greeted him, so the apprentice went inside. He used his sword to illuminate, but suddenly felt something was wrong, so he quickly changed it to a candle. The light stretched across the dusty floor, casting a tall shadow.
Uriel paused for a few seconds, realizing that it was not a human figure. A tangled ball of thread rolled to his feet, probably disturbed by the opening of the door. The outline of the shadow is in the shape of a straight line, countless silk threads are wrapped around the wheel, and the color is as bright as new. A spinning wheel. It was placed facing the door, the seat was empty, but the pedals were still shaking.
Somehow Uriel held his breath. Generally speaking, almost no one in the vassal country can threaten the safety of the mysterious creatures in the high ring. This is the reason why he dares to secretly come to Brestatik. Paladin Commander Lemons Theodor is the only exception. This person passes through the Black City for alliance affairs, which does not mean that he will encounter the Sky Realm just wandering around. What am I worried about?
He activated his "spiritual vision" and confirmed that it was just an ordinary spinning wheel, with no mystery at all. But the sewing machine next to it revealed something else. Uriel saw rows of characters sewn on the cloth with threads.
"Letter to Darash." Tell him that the damn wild dog brought people to collect debts, and that his father has already communicated with Judge Pilker and will handle the matter thoroughly. If you continue reading, the text does not have to become a long hanging thread.
A letter. Uriel thought to himself that there was a record of crimes related to conspiracy and bribery, and he didn't know who sent it. Darash is the recipient. The "ghost" recorded the oral message, but in the end the sender did not take it. what happened?
He still couldn't find anyone, so he continued walking inside.
The room further down was empty except for a wooden table. There was an inkwell and thick parchment on it. The broken quill was thrown under the table. A piece of used parchment was flattened out in the center of the table, with neat printing-like fonts written all over the leather surface. Most of the writing was too faint to be seen clearly. Another letter.
"There's bad news. Today our shipment volume has dropped by another 10%, and our regular customers are also gradually decreasing. Ashe was right again, this woman deserves to die. Sooner or later I have to pull out her tongue"
Uriel speculated that the person who left this message was a businessman. Although the words were threatening, the tone was full of self-doubt. When the owner mustered up his confidence, he would definitely not be willing to send these depressing words again. Maybe that's why it's here to stay. The ghost is only responsible for records and cannot thoughtfully accompany the mailing service.
After all, it's weird enough to have a ghost typing for someone. He looked at the corridor, and sure enough he saw another room with a metal typewriter installed in it, which was quite fashionable. Time is limited, don't waste it anymore. Uriel compressed the entire search time into one second of "spiritual vision", wanting to see what was going on in this house.
The result surprised the apprentice. Ignoring Tan's careful search, he hurriedly climbed up to the second floor and smashed through a paper wall with the hilt of his sword. Heat and soot paved the way. Uriel tore up the note several times and opened up a path large enough for the two of them to pass.
Then he dragged a woman in a robe out of the thick powder. She was unconscious, her cheeks flushed, and her fingers clutching a short stick. Her chest was still rising and falling, but the amplitude was barely discernible. Uriel held up the back of her neck and thighs, lifting her up. In a hurry, without enough time to turn around the stairs, the apprentice kicked open the corridor window and jumped onto the dirt floor of the backyard.
The cold wind blows on your face, bringing fresh air. Uriel put the man on the ground and turned back to search the mansion. The "Spiritual Vision" ended too quickly, and he didn't expect to need to open every door. In case anyone is still left in the room...
No one with any common sense would do this in a sealed room with a charcoal stove. In the Four-leaf Territory, this is called the "Curse of Sauverie", which is a southern characteristic like the "Curse of Surte", the extremely dark night, and is a local superstition. Apprentices know that mild cases can be cured by simply opening windows for ventilation.
Fortunately, there was only one person in the ghost mansion. Uriel opened the doors and windows and let the wind blow into the house, taking away the smoke and poisonous gas. Death doesn't like the sun. But when he went to check on the woman in the robe, he found that she still hadn't woken up. broken. I'm afraid she's been in the house too long.
Naturally, these curses of the gods are different from Dalton's magic. To be precise, they have nothing to do with each other. But fortunately, there was a countermeasure in the mysterious realm: Uriel immediately opened her mouth and poured the holy water potion down her throat. Even if there is a curse, it can probably be solved together.
The other party woke up quickly, choking on the potion and coughing non-stop. "What's going on?" She pressed her forehead, showing a painful look. But as far as her complexion is concerned, she is much healthier than before. "Did I pass out? Stay up late?"
"Half right. You're cursed." Gu
"I just want to keep warm..." She paused, feeling frightened. "What the hell. There's no chimney in there!"
The chimney can't save you. "The stove you are using is not a fireplace, madam." Uriel realized that she did not live in a mansion.
"You saved me. Who are you?"
"Uriel. Lady Patience Frosthelm introduced me to find someone here."
"Then I'm the person you're looking for." She adjusted her robe, trying to make herself less embarrassed, but finally gave up and sat back on the ground. "My name is Dela Sinsena, and I am a psychic. If I were an astrologer or an elementalist, I would definitely not be poisoned... Now, I will help you whatever you say."
"So you came to the Haunted Mansion?"
"Oh, I was deceived. There are no ghosts in this damn place." Della waved her hand tiredly, "There are just a lot of brownies. They have learned the common language, so they are happy to work for people."
"Brown elves?" Uriel had only seen this mysterious race in the tower, and the "Eye of Iron" often used them as a snack.
"They are called elves, but they are actually elves. There are as many subspecies as there are stars in the sky. It is not surprising that there are groups who like to write letters for themselves."
"I remember some were edible."
"That's a food goblin, created by magic...Forget it, you don't even recognize it." She pretended to see through people like him, "You don't understand! When 'Victor' Veronka is in the dark While waiting for the sunrise by the Moon River, what saved him was not the Silver Song Knights or the blessings of the gods, but the mercury witchcraft of the 'Second Truth'. The truth allowed him to overcome Berti's obstacles and board the path of saints. To turn the tide... it can be seen that the effect of books is better than that of hammers. Unfortunately, between the two, people would rather choose the latter."
Uriel didn't understand: "Huh?"
Della Sinsena stared at him for a moment, then turned away in disappointment. "Nothing, I'm just showing you my knowledge... What do you want from me?"
To Uriel, her display was ineffective. He doubted the other party's ability to understand his request. Unfortunately people have books or hammers to choose from, but I only have this guy in front of me. "I want to know the history of the Black City."
"History? You want me to find history? No!"
How fresh. Aren’t you clear and logical in quoting scriptures? "When I asked Ms. Patience for help, I added this requirement." The apprentice pointed out. The dwarf leader was both a relative of Mr. Painter and a friend of Tekapo, so he would definitely be more reliable than the guide. The problem is not with us. "She recommended you."
"I'm a psychic! I'm going to channel a historian for you, so you can ask questions!"
"Sounds doable."
"No, no! You don't know." Della got up and explained, "I have to choose the right psychic object, Uriel. If the ghost has more memories than me, it will dominate and take away my body. History Scholar? No psychic would dare to do that. Not any scholar! Besides, even if they have residual souls, their memories will probably be 10%. You have the wrong person."
She was firm and firm in her vows. Uriel had never met a psychic before, and he didn't know that this profession had so many restrictions. "I'm sorry. What should we do? Why don't we look for the ancestors?"
Della looked at him in disbelief.
The soul of a thousand years ago. The span is too far, and among psychics, it is probably only possible to achieve the level of mystery of the Sky Realm. Uriel knew that such an imagination was too much, but he had no idea: "Do you know the past of the Black City, madam?"
"To be honest, Uriel." She shrugged awkwardly, "I'm not even a local! The examples quoted are what I saw from unofficial history. Ask me? You are forcing others to do something difficult."
Don't get angry in a hurry. There's no way Patience was trying to make fun of me by giving me this guy's address. Uriel warned himself. "Then what can you use your channeling for?"
"Of course I'm looking for something. News about lost or forgotten things includes looking for people and delivering messages to the deceased's descendants. Usually it's someone who has just died...customers whose acquaintances have just passed away unfortunately will come to the door and ask for my help." She coughed quickly. Cover up a slip of the tongue. "Oh, I don't know what happened recently. My success rate in channeling has greatly increased, and now my business has spread to foreign countries. Your family..."
"Everyone in... is very healthy. I have no business needs in this area for the time being." Uriel quickly told her to shut up.
Unfortunately it didn't work out. "Okay, if you have it, I will provide you with free services." Della patted her robe, "After all, I am not used to owing favors."
"I thought you should have gotten used to it."
The psychic blushed.
Her reaction deflated the apprentice. What's the point of arguing with her? "I will convey your situation to Ms. Patience. In short, you will not encounter such a situation next time." The dwarf leader probably did not know her situation, so he introduced her to me. "As for me, I didn't pay anything anyway, so you don't have to take it to heart."
"You saved my life, doesn't that count?" she insisted.
Uriel thought for a moment. "Then I charge you money for the potion?"
Della looked at him, biting her lower lip with a look of panic. They were silent for two seconds. Finally, she showed her cards: "You might as well not save me."
At this time, it was really difficult to hold back my laughter. From the time she started selling things around, Uriel had a vague sense that she was not rich. "Then why do you still say that?"
"I just think I have some use." The psychic said with a slumped head, "I'm not a waste."
"Waste? Why do you think so? You just don't have enough money." Uriel knew that Della didn't boast about that damn psychic business. She will soon be rich, but none of these businesses have started yet.
"That's it. My career."
"Psychic? I haven't seen anyone else."
"Of course. This is a lost profession! There is no mentor or senior. For the sake of the gods, I'm afraid there is almost no one in Knox except me..." She suddenly stopped, "Oh. We are not very familiar with each other yet. , right?" In fact, the apprentice is very interested in this topic. "That's it anyway. I'm doing okay right now, but, uh, I can't help you for a while." The voice weakened. "And you saved me, I must repay you! Even if I don't rely on psychic... I hope you can give me some time."
"Let's wait until next time, Sinsena." Unfortunately, he just didn't have time. "Patience will leave with the caravan soon, and I can only stay with her. We are destined to meet again. Remember to open the window next time you light the stove."
The psychic blinked: "Caravan?"
Uriel looked her over. what's the situation? "Ms. Patience," he repeated, "she is the caravan leader of the Oath Keepers Alliance. They have been in the Black City for a while, and there has been a carnival in the city recently. Don't you know?"
"Caravan? Caravan?"
"A team with goods trading. Merchant trade, communication economy, everyone gets what they need. What?"
"Oh my God!" Della took a step forward and grabbed his arm. "Damn little runt, she came by herself last time. But the caravan! So, they brought the materials, didn't they?" She looked like one of those housewives desperate for some shopping.
"They brought it, not me." Uriel said angrily, "Let go. We are not that familiar."
