87_87643 The flames leaped away from the crowd, as if attracted by some force, in the brazier at the top of the stone pillars - but not the original.

The curling green smoke that remained beside Morriel still had a faint smell of burning, but not even a single corner of his clothes actually burned. The array of rune pillars that had been carved to the best of her ability didn't attract much interest from the female mage, but the huge pattern on the dome made her stop and look up.

A twisted red spiral protrudes from the white star wheel in the center of the dome, connecting eight increasing fiery orbs in turn. The whole pattern is depicted in the slightest, solemn and solemn, and even a little out of tune funny.

The emblem of the Red Mage Society. Morriel's gaze lingered on it for a moment, as if wondering which fireball represented the prophecy spell she was studying, but she still had no answer as there had never been an official account on the matter.

"You have a nosebleed?" Forty-seven also looked up from behind: "Ha, is this the famous ''?"

Led by Di, the group walked along the depressing corridor. The magic lamps embedded in the walls shimmered with a soft pale yellow glow, no brighter than a candle. And about every hundred feet, a gloomy shadow crouched on the square stone platform on the outer edge of the colonnade against the background of the night, and although it was a lifeless statue, when you passed by and paid more attention to the hideous figure of their membranous wings, you would feel a malicious aura emanating from it—not the slightest doubt, just a simple command. The cold stone statues would immediately awaken from their slumber, spread their wings to obscure the sky, and tear the intruder apart with their razor-sharp teeth and claws carved from massive shards of obsidian.

Walking along the curved corridor to the end, a suspension bridge about fifty feet long appeared in front of you. Even though it was night in the Northlands when they arrived, the sky was now covered with a hint of fish's belly, cutting out a clearer outline of the dark Tallinn in the distance. The dark grey stone complex is like a flower petal that encloses the towers on the opposite side of the suspension bridge, and it is very close to the surrounding fortress pavilions, with many bridges and corridors connecting to each other, and the towers are full of reliefs and statues. This makes the tower a magnificent work of art.

And it does have a charm that is different from other buildings. It may be an illusion, but everyone who sees the tower feels as if it is a living thing - a faint cloud of mist swims around the tower, and it looks like the tower itself is breathing.

"I'm sorry, but I had to send you here. Di and his black-robed attendants stopped in front of the suspension bridge, "Mr. Victor is waiting for you." ”

Morriel stroked the delicate carving of the little monster on the guardrail at the bridgehead, looking at the swarthy opposite.

"Follow me, Kyro. After standing still for a moment, she stepped onto the suspension bridge.

Forty-seven followed, but after taking two steps, he suddenly turned back and walked to a black-robed man and stretched out his hand.

The attendant was stunned. I don't know what Forty-Seven is going to do. It looked like he was going to shake his hand, but his master was still standing on the side, so he couldn't take his turn, and he didn't think that this steel creature was essentially no different from a gargoyle would think like this. He looked at Forty-Seven's face, but he couldn't tell the intention in the deep red flames. He hesitated, but finally reached out and held the iron together.

The creature's wail and the smell of flesh being scalded filled the dawn air.

Everyone's nerves tensed. Except for the black-robed man who was holding his hand, his eyes widened and his mouth was almost dislocated due to the unbearable pain, and the pupils of the other vampires, including Di, all lit up with negative energy—Morriel turned to look back, and a powerful attack spell was quickly called out of her memory to prepare.

But Forty-Seven didn't do anything more. He let go of his hand. The palms of the opponent's hands were already scorched, the fingers were glued together, and the skin was cracked under the heat. Showing dark muscles.

"Don't touch people in the future. He bowed his head and said a word to the attendant who was kneeling on the ground, and then walked away as if nothing had happened.

"I've never seen that Dee change his face because of something. Standing in front of the slowly opening tower door, Morriel couldn't help but smile.

Forty-seven put his hands behind his back and looked at the intricate patterns on the arch indifferently: "Most of the 'Tarzan collapsed in front of the other and the color remained the same' kid is just because he has never seen a real landslide. ”

The tower is very dark, but barely visible. There wasn't even a single servant along the way. But whenever Morriel and the others walked to a closed door, the door would always open at the right time, and when it came to a staircase that made people wonder whether to go up or down, there would be some obvious sign as a guide - such as a sudden cold light along the handrail.

"It's weird here. When the three of them finally stood in front of an iron door decorated with the logo of the Red-robed Mage Society. Kylo whispered next to Morriel.

There was silence all around, even the slightest breeze blowing through the dark corridors stopped, as if the ghosts who had accompanied and guided them since entering the tower had finally completed their mission and returned to rest in their cold, narrow tombs.

Eight orbs lit up one after the other—and the iron door cracked along the texture of the blood-red spiral, closing into the wall.

"Welcome, Moriel, my child. ”

An old, hoarse voice came from inside the door, slow, low, sounding like it had come out of their throats, but it was unusually clear that it was ringing in the ears of the three men, as if the speaker were beside them.

Morriel bowed into the dark halls.

"I am honored and surprised, esteemed Mentor Victor. ”

Forty-Seven looked at it, but this time his thermal vision failed, and he was like an ordinary person who could not do anything about the deep darkness inside the door, except for a faint sight of a floor and a few pillars in the doorway.

He walked forward. But Morrill stopped him.

"Don't be presumptuous, Victor has always had little patience for those who provoke him. She whispered beside him, "We're not here to fight...... At least not yet. ”

The mage's whisper was very soft, but the old voice immediately responded.

"Hehehe...... But I also have respect for the strong......" He reciprocated with a kind laugh, "if they treat me with courtesy, of course." Come in, kids. ”

As soon as he finished speaking, the hall lit up.

It is a gorgeous room that exceeds the width of the length. The ceilings are very high, and stone crystal chandeliers line up to reflect the brilliant light in every corner. On the left and right sides of the hall are delicate white marble statues, all of which are mage-like figures. Each one is twice as tall as a real person, and even every crease on the clothes and crow's feet at the corners of the eyes are lifelike.

The chief mentor of the Necronomicon School of the Red-robed Mage, the oldest, wisest, and most powerful being in the city of Ser, and the de facto ruler of this infamous place, the red-robed archmage Victor is sitting on his throne waiting.

In Forty-Seven and Careyro's view, Victor is a tall gerontologist. His glittering black eyes showed his energy, a well-cut ornate red robe was something that had long since gone out of fashion, and a few purple and green Io Philosopher's Stones floated around his head—he looked calm. Knowledgeable, although there is not much smile on his thin face, there is a faint hint of friendliness in his eyes.

But Morriel's eyes were a different picture. She didn't deliberately see through Victor's magical appearance, but perhaps because his true strength was so strong, the decorative ground was disguised to the female mage as if she were trying to block out the sun with a thin veil.

A desiccated skeleton sits there. The face and hands exposed to the robe were completely withered, and the pale skin was tightly wrapped around the skeleton, and the muscles, fat, and tendons between the two had completely died out for more than a thousand years. In the hollow sockets of the skull are a pair of dark eyes. It's all because of the magic gathering that it shines.

As many have speculated and even openly argued, Victor is a lich.

He glanced meaningfully at Forty-Seven, then turned his gaze to Moriel, "You've always surprised me. My baby. ”

Morrill had now roughly guessed why the red-robed mage would let his defector be so comfortable. Victor's will is a holy decree in the Red Robe Mage Society, a law, and a fate that cannot be disobeyed. It's not that no one has challenged this, but they're all gone, and Victor is alive and well - if he can be called "alive" in his current state.

"Thank you for your leniency. Mentor Victor. Morriel's tone was respectful, and it was really heartfelt.

"It's nothing. Oh, please be seated...... You see. I'm all confused. Victor waved his bony hand, and with a glowing puff of magical smoke, three chairs appeared on the floor, two small and one large.

"Moriel, I was actually going to recruit you into my necromantic faction...... Even now, I sometimes wonder what kind of journey I would have achieved if I were a student, and if I would have been able to stand alone. ”

Morrill wanted to be humble, but Victor said to himself, not giving her the opportunity: "Of course, there is no point in reminiscing about the past and looking forward to the future. And your talent ...... Specializing in prophecy is indeed the best fit for you. Your current achievements far surpass those of the other red-robed mages, whether you leave Cell, or rise to prominence in the Argus Empire, to become an excellent prophecy archmage...... Moriel, I'm so proud of you. ”

This is not the Victor style I know. The mage nervously wondered what the always cold, irascible and restrained red-robed lich had planned—he had more conspiracies than the average person could have imagined in a lifetime. It should have something to do with Forty-Seven, Moriel's instincts told her sù.

She glanced at Forty-Seven, who was sitting in his chair heartlessly, not caring at all how many scheming people he was targeting.

Victor shouldn't be hard-hitting...... If you want to subdue the forty-seven, the eight great teachers are afraid that they will not be absolutely sure. Even if Victor hadn't seen the terrifying power of the cannon that Forty-Seven used to seal Zeux Skel, with his wisdom, he should have a number in his heart. Is it possible to coerce me indirectly to achieve my goal? It is possible, but now I am no longer the woman who was helpless against Singh outside of Rainy Town.

In just a few moments, many thoughts had already turned in the female mage's mind, but each one was plausible. So she wisely chose to keep her mouth shut, Victor is not a lich who has lived for more than a thousand years as the legend says, and she is not yet thirty years old!

“...... Isabella gave up on you as the biggest mistake she ever made in her life. Victor's words made Morriel's eyelids jump.

"Isabella also grew up watching. She also has many strengths and strengths, but her irrational emotions that are too hot are her fatal wounds. Of course, if she could limit this willfulness to her life, it would be nothing more than one of the many quirks of being a mage, but she went a little too far...... Both for you and for others. Moriel, would you be interested in taking her place as mentor in the Department of Prophecy?"

The female mage was rather surprised. If Victor had tried to win him over, he wouldn't have come up with anything more lucrative. This means that Isabella ...... Morrill involuntarily licked his lips, trying to find a vague response that flickered in words.

"Don't rush to answer me now. An emerald green Io stone floated in front of Victor, and his dark eyes were reflected in every fine and perfect facet: "You're still young, aren't you?"

Victor's false shot really made Morriel a little uncomfortable.

"Yes, I don't think I'm far from mature yet......" Morrill replied. It was too tiring to talk like this, and she would rather fight the lich if she could.

"Archmage Victor, then let's talk about the urgent matter at the moment. Forty-seven suddenly stopped rocking his chair, stared at the lich with red eyes, and straightened Morrill out of the way.

He politely used the honorific title instead of calling Victor a dried specimen, much to Moriel's comfort.

"Hehehe......" The lich let out another hollow laugh, but there was not much of a smile on his face or eyes, "Strange Iron Warrior, I've been guessing when you're going to take over this conversation...... A little earlier than I expected. ”

He rose from his throne, and a black cloud escaped from his robes and floated around him.

"Follow me, boys. Victor raised one arm and made an inviting gesture: "I have something to show you." ”。