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A farmstead in the plains of Tanori is being swallowed up by the approaching darkness.

The once peaceful manor is now shrouded in oppressive terror.

The horses in the stables were completely shocked. They foamed at the corners of their mouths and neighed violently, almost frantically slamming against the fence in an attempt to get out of the place - a meteor-like fireball crashed straight in, blasting the entire stable to pieces. The half-burning horse's head fell in front of Forty-Seven, and the once black satin-like soft and smooth fur was carbonized by the high temperature, and the melted horse's eyes looked hollowly at the hazy sky—it seemed that the sky was still clear before the arrival of this group of black demons.

"It seems that I am not good at pacifying animals. ”

Forty-seven turned the cannon on his arm, bared his teeth at the blackened horse's head, and continued to look at the old knight, who was fully armed, holding a shield and a sword in front of the main entrance of the mansion. "Old man, I don't mean to kill them all. Get out of here with your family so I can set fire to it - I have a lot of respect for the old man, but that doesn't mean I have a lot of time, you know?"

"Demon, you just killed my son!" the old knight's eyes were split, and he raised his sword and pointed at the black iron warrior opposite, "Do you think the knights of Argus will succumb to the obscenity of evil creatures like you?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a black cloud pressed down on the old knight - after a loud bang, the old knight fell in the middle of the broken gate, and his whole chest was dented by Forty-Seven.

"As you wish. ”

Forty-seven's dark red eyes scanned the courtyard, and there was a cry from inside the big house, and the closed door moved, as if someone wanted to come out of it, but was immediately stopped.

"Set fire. He said hoarsely.

O'Sullivan slowly entered the hall on the top floor. Surrounded by darkness, a magnificent, almost boundless darkness. A map of celestial bodies was drawn on the huge dome, and the black-blue background was dotted with dense stars emitting white light, forming a vast and ethereal galaxy, like a divine light gliding through the sky, and even shining a white path of light in front of the earl.

What was the purpose of the mages in building such a magnificent place? Apparently not for the study of celestial movements. This kind of specification has long exceeded the should of any courtier who still recognizes the power of the Argus Emperor, and it is really a great rebellion, even if it is suspected of rebellion. But the truth is that no one has ever reported or proposed the impeachment of such a presumptuous council of mages. Will you report it to the emperor if you change your words? Of course not. O'Sullivan didn't need to think twice to understand why such a strict transgression was so prevalent under the emperor's nose.

The empire was already in the hands of the Council, or rather, in the hands of Singh, the archmage who held the Council.

In the depths of the hall to which the stars were headed, were five chairs of various shapes and materials in a semicircle—they looked quite old, most of them were empty, and now only two people sat a little lonely on them, one on the left hand first, the other on the right hand second, the same old age, the same indifference, the same unfathomable mystery.

O'Sullivan took a few steps forward with a stern expression, flicked the hem of his black coat, knelt down on one knee, and greeted the two old men who seemed to be hiding at the end of the universe. "Earl of the Argus Empire, O'Sullivan, see His Excellency Singer, Speaker of the Council, and His Excellency Archmage Kiscain. ”

"Please ...... Master O'Sullivan. As an Imperial Count, you don't have to kneel down to us. Singh, who was sitting on the right, raised his eyebrows slightly, but Kiscain on the left now seemed to have switched roles with Singh, his eyes slightly closed, and he didn't even look at O'Sullivan, as if he had already fallen into a groggy sleep.

"You and His Excellency Kiscain have assisted the empire for nearly a hundred years, and you can be said to be the mentors of the empire, not to mention that I am just a fledgling little earl, that is, my father, my grandfather, when I see you, I should also respectfully call the teacher. O'Sullivan stood up obediently, looking humble.

"Feet?" Singh seemed to be stirred up by Yuri's words: "Feet...... It's been a long time since I've seen him, is he okay?"

If it was the character of ten years ago, O'Sullivan would have rushed up to tear this damn old man to pieces, but now, he just lowered his head even deeper: "Thank you for your concern, I came this time-"

"It's about the elven wandering army that is making trouble in the Tarnori Plains......" Singh made a gesture that seemed simple, but the light around O'Sullivan instantly swam and combined, conjuring up a series of chaotic and thrilling images:

The silver-white armored swordsman swung his double sword and stabbed forward, condensing a agile and toned figure in the darkness, grabbing the soldier's weapon with only his hands, his handsome face suddenly became extremely hideous and twisted, revealing sharp teeth and biting the swordsman's throat;

The mage who lost his fighting spirit shouted frantically, the staff in his hand shot magic missiles aimlessly around, a sharp arrow shot through the neck, the mage threw away the staff to cover the wound and staggered, followed by three or four more arrows on him, the lifeless body did not have time to fall, and was torn by the waist, and the black elf wielding the scimitar swept by;

Mixed footsteps ran up the stairs, which should have been the interior of some garrison fortress, the picture turned to the window, and a frightened gaze looked out, and a fire point in the close-up pupil grew larger and larger, engulfing a qiē in an instant, turning into a cloud of fire that swept the sky and rushed towards the earl......

O'Sullivan shrank and raised his hand, making a useless defensive move. But he immediately straightened up, ashamed and bitter at his failure to maintain his composure in such an illusory picture.

The shocking scene faded and turned into a starry light again.

Singh put down his hand, which was covered in age spots and had long fingernails: "Here are some of the images the Council got from survivors...... What do you think, Master O'Sullivan?"

"These mysterious enemies are very dangerous. "Dangerous almost madness - O'Sullivan had never seen any elf kill his enemies so brutally, not even the dead corpses around him, and he had the impression that elves were graceful, even in battle—that deadly grace that he had once imitated.

"We should pay enough attention to them and take swift and effective measures to eliminate them and prevent them from causing more casualties and destruction! I am willing to go all out and do whatever it takes! I ask the Council to give me a chance!" O'Sullivan stood as solemn as a gun, completely displaying the demeanor of a soldier.

"Hehe......" Singh let out a burst of old laughter, "Sure enough, there are imperial warriors with the blood of 'lions'...... Well, I think you've been reflecting long enough. The establishment you mentioned at the Imperial Council is very good, the Empire does not have the time or energy to carry out a large-scale encirclement and suppression of this team, so it still needs warriors who can really gallop on the battlefield to hunt and kill...... Those of us who can only fiddle with flasks and ancient texts, and like to wear wide robes to hide our sluggish bodies, are not omnipotent, and in many ways are inadequate......"

O'Sullivan listened quietly, hiding a hint of surprise in his heart very well - Singh actually agreed!

"That's right...... A more cunning and troublesome mouse needs a more ferocious cat......"

As soon as Singh's voice fell, heavy footsteps sounded in the darkness.

O'Sullivan looked at where the voice had come from. The starlight on the dome seemed to be a conscious moving projection, illuminating the darkness there and revealing a huge figure.

Whitebeard...... Hoffman O'Sullivan barely recognized the man from the hooked nose and yellowish white fur of the bristles—or, he wasn't human at all.

During O'Sullivan's visit, Hoffman, who had gathered the thieves of the Cold Wasteland to strike at the Night Elves, came with a rough wheezing sound, as if stirring up a pile of stones and gravel.

He was slightly slumped, but even so, O'Sullivan's tall figure would only approach the base of his thighs, and his entire upper body was covered with thick rock formations like iron armor, even spreading most of his head, and a pair of arms that almost hung down to the ground completely lost their human appearance - the stone arms of the thickness of the pillars were inlaid with various runes of pure gold and mythril, and at the end were two fists the size of siege stones, covered with steel spikes, and there was not a single finger.

Hoffman stood in front of O'Sullivan. The small amount of his flesh was as pale as a dead man, and it was impossible to tell if he didn't look closely, and the hard rock and the giant body were strangely and disproportionately mixed together, and the little eyes that stared at O'Sullivan radiated a cruel and murderous light.

O'Sullivan took a step back and distanced himself from the disgusting monster. He had no doubt Hoffman's hatred of his flesh and blood, and if he could, he would smash himself into flesh with a terrible fist - the mages' research into constructing magic had reached such madness! Look what they did!

"I think you know ......," Singh said slowly, "Captain Hoffman was seriously injured on a mission some time ago...... Filled with hatred for his enemies and loyalty to the Empire, he chose to become the new symbol of Argus's power to construct - the Half-Golem. The Council will send him and a number of other soldiers to assist in this military operation, please go to Lord Yatu, and he will arrange it. ”

Kiscain's motionless body slumped in his chair when he suddenly shook. He turned his head to look, and his cloudy gaze fell on O'Sullivan: "Oh, well, Yuri, right? Ah, it's Yuri. It's been a long time since I've seen you, what's the ......matter with you?

“...... That one...... Sir Kiscain, I am about to take my leave. ”

After O'Sullivan and Hoffman left, the hall fell into even deeper darkness. The galactic artificial starlight dimmed, and even the floor was invisible, except for the five chairs, as if suspended in an endless void.

"I thought you wouldn't let go of the O'Sullivan imps......" Kiscain seemed to fall asleep again, but it wasn't Singh who spoke.

"I didn't let him go. Singh's body was rather small compared to the throne-like stone chair beneath him, and his chair was the only stone seat of the five: "The only fact that he went to find the core of Lum and Lum from the Empire...... I won't let him go. ”

Kiscain slowly opened his eyes, completely devoid of the stupidity of Alzheimer's in the council: "Lum...... He's been gone for more than 100 years...... Since he left, we don't even have enough hands to play. ”

"yes...... Of the five people who are qualified to sit here, only the two of us remain. Singh sighed and withdrew his gaze from a delicately made, very comfortable-looking rattan chair beside him: "But he went the wrong way...... They are all on the wrong track. ”

"You're still ......" Kiscain suddenly relented, changing the subject, "What do you think of that rare construct on the side of the elves?

"No, it can't be. Singh flatly denied: "Speaking of which, I have another idea...... However, this needs to be confirmed. Let that Isabella's female apprentice also participate in the action, didn't the little ghost of the O'Sullivan family also propose this in front of the emperor? Sure enough, they inherited the bloodline of their family from the old man...... If you don't see the coffin, you don't shed tears. ”

"I kind of like that little girl. Kiscain leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes again, "When we brought her in from the red-robed elder, we didn't expect her to survive, did we?" You know, I even think that if she stays in the council, maybe a new chair will be added here in a few decades...... Can we expect a witch like Aretha or a stunned young man like a warrior who knows a few spells to take over the council?"

Singh's half-closed eyes suddenly shot out two divine lights.

"With me, the Council will never need someone else to take over. All we need is all of Lum's research notes, not her. There was already a hint of anger in Singh's voice: "If it weren't for Yuri's little ghost who acted and scrambled around without permission, resulting in incomplete notes, the Council would not have risked a complete falling out with the red-robed mage to attack Isabella, one of the eight mentors of the red-robed mage's guild...... And now the woman refuses to leave, isn't she trying to get more secrets about 'that'?"

"But soon it won't be anything. Singh gave vent briefly, and his tone reverted to that old, empty, joyless, and unfazed state: "The plan for 'that' has entered the final stage of preparation...... When the time comes, even if Victor's thousand-year-old monster comes to Vatan in person, it won't help......"

We're going to be gone someday...... And you just won't admit it.

Kiscain and Singh sat silent, and the starlight in the hall gradually went out, and finally it was completely dark and dead