Early in the morning, a traditional sail boat followed the calm-flowing Python River to the outside of the supply station.

The sentinel, who had risen early, set up his pergola in his hand, glanced at the boat in the morning mist, and raised his eyebrows in some surprise.

After the signing of the Treaty of Kudazupi, the supply depot was opened to the river nomads on an equal footing, and it was not uncommon for the river nomads to come here to buy things.

But...... It's rare to come here in the early morning to buy something.

"Could it be...... Who's missing spices for breakfast at home? The sentry from Zaun told himself a bad joke, "Unfortunately, our supply depot doesn't seem to provide such supplies. ”

However, just as the Sentinel was about to ask what was going on, the morning fog seemed to grow thicker - he opened his mouth, only to find that he couldn't spit out a single byte no matter how hard he tried.

The invisible morning mist turned into a large hand, covering the sentry's mouth and then choking his neck.

"Click."

With a soft sound of skeletal misalignment, the sentry fell limply to the sentry.

The next moment, the mist dissolved into two large invisible hands, silently opening the door of the supply station.

The small sail boats in the river were floated under the fog, left the river, came to the shore, and entered the supply station lightly.

……………………

Trist had a nightmare.

He dreamed that a young woman from Picheng, with whom he had been chatting hotly, suddenly turned into Evelyn, and a pair of terrible tentacles wrapped around his neck.

This eerie nightmare makes it difficult for Trist to breathe, and then finally wakes up completely - however, when he wakes up, Trist finds that there is an endless amount of smoke around him......

Something is wrong!

Trist subconsciously wanted to get up, but found a pair of smoke hands strangling his neck.

"You shouldn't be awake." An old voice appeared beside Trist, "You could have left in your dreams without any pain. ”

Trist struggled to look to the side, barely catching out an old face he had never seen before.

"You ......"

Trist seemed to want to say something, but the smoke hand increased his strength so hard that he couldn't say the second word.

"Listen to me, kid." The old man manipulated the smoke to straighten Trist's figure, "You're nice - it's not sarcasm, I really appreciate you." ”

"But you have broken traditions, you have brought the river nomads into a turbulent world, and I have to take action to put an end to you." The old man's tone sounded extremely sincere, "I'm sorry. ”

As the old man suddenly apologized, Trist visibly felt the power of the smoke increase a few more points - fortunately, his left hand finally touched a ghost card in his close-fitting pants.

The next moment, the ghost card turned to ashes, and Trist left the place and appeared in another corner of the room in embarrassment.

Before he had time to look at the scorched hairs from the Ghost Card, Trist gulped in the air as he tried to use the teleportation again.

It's a pity that after losing its target, the big hand of smoke directly dispersed into the empty space, turning into countless tiny spatial anchors, and Trist was surprised to find that the space in this room had been locked......

"Why bother, child." The old man blinked his eyes, "You don't have to resist anymore. ”

"Who the hell are you?" Trist leaned against the wall and whispered with difficulty, "Why did you kill me?" ”

"Me?" The old man stretched out his hand and pointed to his nose, "You can call me Mullan—maybe you've heard of me." ”

"Descendants of the Great River?"

"That's right." The old man nodded, "It's me." ”

"Do you really exist?" Trist reluctantly stood up, "I thought you were just a legend. ”

"Unless it's really necessary." Mu Lan's tone was calm, "Other times, it's not bad to be a legend. ”

"Then why did you kill me?" Trist raised his tone, "I'm on a path to bringing the Great River Nomads on an even greater path!" ”

"Great?" Mu Lan raised his eyebrows slightly, "You have no idea what you are doing, little guy - what you thought was great actually leads to destruction......"

"Nonsense!" Without hesitation, Trist retorted, "Those elders are the ones who will destroy the river nomads, they are oppressing all the river nomads for their own greed and profit—I'm just taking you back what belongs to us!" ”

"I don't like them either." Mullan's response surprised Trist, "If you really just did this, I'd even be happy to see it happen - but you are wrong to turn your back on tradition and collude with outsiders, how can we river nomads be independent, how can we mix with those outsiders?" ”

"What are you talking about?" Trist's face was full of doubts and puzzles, "The long-term closure has long left us completely behind, and it is precisely because of this kind of posthumous independence that those elders can be unscrupulous......"

"Stupid! Shortsighted! Absurd! This time, Mullan finally interrupted Trist, "You think that mixing with those outsiders has allowed you to see a different world?" Or do you think you're helping the river nomads? ”

"Isn't it?" Trist tried to argue that "with more supplies and more advanced technology, life would be better for all......

"And then slid into the middle of the endless in a pinnacle." Mullan interrupted Trist once more, "Only true posthumous independence can allow us to avoid the terrible cycle of rune wars, and your short-sightedness and stupidity have broken everything we have carefully maintained!" ”

The next moment, just as Trist was about to say something, Mullan seemed unwilling to waste any more time - a pair of large smoke hands reappeared, and then choked Trist by the neck.

"Forget it, kid." Mullan seemed to want to say something, but in the end he lowered his tone and chose to make a long story short, "You are a traditional betrayer, but not a mean fellow, and I can promise you that after everything is settled and the people are taken deeper into the jungle, I will fulfill your last wish - none of those selfish fellows will live." ”

"This is the promise of Moulin, the promise of the descendants of the Great River."

"Now, go in peace, child, relax your body, I will make your pain as little as possible......"

Then, just as Mullin was about to put an end to it once and for all, time suddenly stood still.

The next moment, the door to Trist's bedroom was pushed open.

"I was a bit surprised." Rod paced into the room with his staff on his back, "In the hands of such an outdated old guy, there is such a rune?" ”