87_87643 Waterfall.

The wooden watchtower and old Tom were a little old, and they felt a little bleak in the rainstorm.

Luckily, I just got some grass and repaired the roof a few days ago...... Old Tom stood on the sentry tower wrapped in an oilcloth cloak and shivered as the rain trickled down the gaps in the swamp.

Heavy rain outside, light rain inside, and even worse if it's windy. Although Rain City has experienced a lot in the past few years, from the era of the dwarven berserker Blood Axe Cagan to the world of the mage Mishima who is vassalized with the Western Argus Empire, there are fewer and fewer independent or small group adventurers, perhaps because the war in the west is becoming more and more intense, or perhaps because the Swamp itself is gradually losing its charm to attract fools...... But this has nothing to do with old Tom, he doesn't even bother to go to the White Blade Tavern to listen to all the same news about Argus, what is Argus like and what does it matter to Rain City? He was nostalgic for the old days, standing on the watchtower and yawning, watching the adventurers walk out of Rain City, and guessing how many of them would come back alive, and maybe making a bet on it, and if they did make it back from the swamp with a lot of shit, he would have more or less gotten a few silver or even gold coins from the hands of these smirking fellows, instead of being disheartened by the decay as he was now.

Suddenly a stream of heat rushed through old Tom's body, giving him a warm and dry feeling to his cold, damp body, as if he were comfortably beside a great stove—

Who would waste "warmth" on an old and dumb militiaman like him? Old Tom, who was in good spirits, rubbed his eyes, poked his head out to look for the kind mage, and just in time to see the female mage with a tattoo on her face looking up and smiling at him.

Who is it? Seems familiar...... Old Tom was so surprised that he almost forgot that his vocal cords had been bitten by an abominable rotting wolf more than a decade earlier. Instead of stopping to greet him, Morriel lowered his head again and walked towards the town with the strange big warrior beside him.

"Since you even help the sentinels. Can't you put one of these spells on me as well?" Forty-Seven grumbled as he walked as he looked as Morriel, who seemed to be protected by an invisible shield that kept all the rain out.

"Tom is a poor old militiaman, and rheumatism, and you're a heavily armored construct and armed to the teeth - why should I waste spells on you?" Morriel was able to step on the firmest, least muddy and watery place with every step, barely affected by the elements.

"You're getting stingy, and you used to give me some of that gray-black leather. ”

"Shut up, I used to follow your will and let you reinvent yourself at will. Now that you're like this, isn't that money a waste?"

"Hey, that's not fair, you're arguing like you're not allowing a soldier to buy a weapon, telling them that they'll find something better anyway. ”

"Hmph, don't quibble. Stick to it, this is the most common weather in Rain City. ”

In this way, the two of them walked into the city of rain, where the story began.

"Stop!" was about to enter the walled city, when a warrior-like guy dutifully stopped them. He held an oilcloth umbrella and put his other hand on the hilt of the scimitar at his waist: "I haven't seen you." Are you a new adventurer, come with me, you have to register first...... Remove your spells, female mage!According to Mishima-sama's law, you are not allowed to use spells at will in Rain City-"

Forty-seven stretched out his hand, and picked up the fool, who knew nothing, like a chicken, and threw him into the big log cabin from which he had escaped. Then he stared at it with a pair of blood-red eyes, his pupils like two burning flames—the chaotic shouting and yelling quickly died away, and the half foot he stepped out of was retracted.

"There are clever ones. He withdrew his gaze and took two quick steps to catch up with Moriel.

"Don't waste any time with these rookies," Morriel said as he watched the heavy rain change a lot between the barracks and the still chaotic and crowded market, "Let's go see Kairo first." That's the main reason I'm back here. ”

Kairo's shop is still in the old place - but it seems to be empty.

The little girl's family heirloom spell, which she used to cast on the door as a shield, had been replaced by real chains and locks—crudely local goods that could even be removed with a small iron nail.

Where did she go?, Morrill wondered. In her memory, Kyro wasn't someone who liked to run around. Although she was five or six years younger than Moriel, she arrived in Rain City much earlier than Moriel, and most of the time she would stay quietly in her shop to study spells or make potions, and many times she would rather beg Moriel to help her find some ingredients than leave her warm cabin...... And he was brought out of Isabella's cage by the mage Argus to join them. He had also been in contact with Carro, and her reply was filled with intense joy, repeatedly telling Morriel to come back to see her...... What's going on now?

A hand covered in jagged scales reached over and grabbed the chain. Before Morrill could react, Forty-Seven had already broken the chains and broke down the door with impunity.

It seems that there are days when no one is there. Morriel looked at the few magic items and medicines left on the dusty shelves, and felt a little uneasy in his heart, could it be that Kyro had already left Rain City? Or maybe she didn't have a chance to inform herself on the front line of the Sleeping Forest...... But why did she leave Rain City?

Forty-seven didn't think much of it, he casually picked up a medicine bottle. Unplugged and sniffed what was left

of unknown liquid, and then threw it into the corner.

"Don't make a mess of things!" Morriel reprimanded him dissatisfiedly, "This is not your home!"

Forty-seven rubbed his hands nonchalantly: "What's the matter? she's not there anyway—well, let's go home first." ”

Morel's shop, Pù "Stone of the Future", had not changed much from the outside, except that it was a little older, but when they opened the door and entered, they found that it was already full of tatters—broken greatswords, shields with holes, missing arms and legs, tattered armor, and a mess that made them not know how to get in.

"Marcus, Marcus!" Morrill stood in the rain, holding a half-cut iron bar and slamming the door of the subway shop next door. Until Marcus angrily opened the door. Raise the iron tongs on his left arm, ready to give a hard blow to the disturbers outside who don't know whether they are alive or dead-

But after a brief glare. Morriel greeted with a hug.

"You're back, red-robed girl!" the old blacksmith grabbed her by the shoulder and looked at her, "Well, it's a bit of an archmage! Seriously, it really saddened me for a while after you were captured by those Argus! Unfortunately, I heard that your funny structure was destroyed...... Alas, I should have been more lenient with him and gave him more parts!"

"It's not too late, old blacksmith. Forty-Seven interjected.

"Huh?" Marcus looked Forty-Seven up and down - it didn't take long, because on closer inspection, the Iron Warrior's perfect armor and steel statue-like head betrayed his identity as a construct.

Marcus slammed his breastplate with iron pincers.

"Haha! Amazing! I've never seen metal like this in my life! It's amazing! You kid, you got such a great body, I don't have to worry about you stealing from me anymore!"

Morrill smiled. But then he deliberately kept a straight face: "Don't change the subject, Marcus." Can you explain why my house has become your warehouse?"

"Ahh

After hearing Marcus's complaints about the damn Argus collecting every magical metal object to make that damn constructed weapon, he could only build some shit and his business was getting worse and worse, and telling him that it wouldn't happen again, he came out of the blacksmith's shop. The rain was also much lighter.

Even Marcus doesn't know where Kyro has gone, or even when she left...... There's something really wrong with that.

"It looks like we can't clean up the house, where are we going now?" Forty-Seven carried a spike hammer that had been blackmailed from Marcus, and walked around a place with a lot of water, deliberately making a rattling noise.

"Let's go to the Whiteblade Tavern first," Morriel walked towards the familiar stone building in front of him, "it's going to be dark anyway, and there may be some other news there." ”

Don't look at the deserted streets, the Whiteblade Tavern is still very lively, most of them are fresh faces, and a few even look at Moriel unscrupulously. Assessing her figure hidden under her hooded robes, she had no idea how terrifying and deadly a mage could be.

It's all idiots. Morriel didn't even bother to pay attention to them, and sat down in a remote place, wondering where Kyro would go.

The halfling bartender came over with the best liquor in the shop, turned back to the chattering people and made a very vicious expression to warn them to be quiet, then put the flask on the table and smiled, "Miss Morrill." You are welcome back. ”

Morrill placed an Argus gold coin in the bartender's tray: "Business here is still so good. I ask you...... Kyro, South Street, where did the little girl who sold magic potions go?"

The bartender looked away from the gold coin, looked at Morriel, and then looked up at Forty-Seven, trying to remember the name Morrill had spoken of—and finally he shook his head with a confused expression.

Also. Kyro almost never came to the tavern, and perhaps the bartender never saw her.

"Go ahead, help me ask among these people. Morrill waved his hand, and the bartender quickly picked the gold coins from the tray and put them in his underwear pocket. Running away on two small short legs.

Without waiting for the bartender to reply, the trouble came first. A big-shouldered, round-waisted, drunken warrior staggered over with an iron wine glass, and he didn't know what medicine he had taken wrong, he didn't provoke Moriel, but he stood in front of Forty-Seven against the wall with squinted eyes.

"Hey...... Belch. The warrior snorted: "The armor is good...... Take it off and show me?"

Morrill immediately put his hand on his forehead and made a gesture of despair.

"They're kidding you. To her surprise, Forty-Seven did not move—and said to the warrior in a very gentle tone: "The man on your left kept patting you on the shoulder and pinching your arm. I'm supposed to be patting you on the back and talking about how strong you are, and the guy on your right is looking at me as he talks. I guess I'm just encouraging you to get into trouble with me. ”

"Go back," Forty-Seven also seemed to have something wrong: "Lie in bed, get a good night's sleep, and forget about me." ”

"Good armor! take it off and show me!" the warrior repeated with a glare. It was so loud that the whole audience heard it. It was clear that he didn't know what kind of good fortune he had just turned down - Lady Luck flew down from heaven to kiss him, only to be brutally slapped by him.

"Good chin. ”

Before the warrior could react to what this sentence meant, Forty-Seven had already pinched his down

It ripped off the entire lower half of his face like a piece of paper.

"Take it off and show me. Forty-seven looked at the soldiers who couldn't make a sound and rolled on the ground, smearing blood all over the ground, and said very calmly.

Except for the clanging sound of the Idiot Warrior knocking over the table next to him, causing the wine glasses on the table to fall to the ground, none of the others in the Whiteblade Tavern could make a sound. Although the traditional repertoire of fights and brawls is often staged here, and it is not a big deal to kill people, it is still too rare to see if the winner is decided in an instant in such a strange way.

Alas, I thought this guy had suddenly changed sex.

"Alright, restrain your temper. We're not here to make trouble!" Morriel stood up with a frown as he looked at the warrior who was still twitching on the floor.

"I don't want to. Forty-seven spread his hands: "I gave him the opportunity to be nostalgic in a peaceful environment...... But why is it that only the dead know how to be quiet?"

It seems that there is no news here. Morrill waved at the trembling halfling bartender, and he immediately ran over in a hurry, and almost slipped and fell.

"A room. ”

Morriel and Forty-Seven are led through the lobby by the bartender. Head up the stairs - the people in the tavern wisely chose to give up a space of respect. They continued to drink and chat, but their voices were much quieter, and the two fellows who had instigated the warriors to provoke Forty-Seven did not even dare to raise their heads, for fear that their jaws would be broken off like black bread.

"I haven't stayed in a hotel yet...... Shall we wait here for Little Red Riding Hood to come back?" Moriel washed his face in the basin, and Forty-Seven washed his hands as well, and the water in the basin was immediately stained with some wisps of dark red.

"Move the table over. ”

Morrill pulled a small disc from his bosom, the silver surface as smooth as a mirror, with a circle of fine magical runes engraved around it, and placed it on the table that Forty-Seven had brought in. Several more vials were taken out, and some of the powder was poured out separately and mixed in a special way and in a particular order and coated on the mirror surface of the small disc. It looked like she was going to have more complicated spells to prepare—Morriel avoided using spellcasting materials most of the time, especially when she used so many of them.

"I'm a little uneasy. Morrill said as he prepared, "It always feels like something has happened to Kyro...... Hell, my hunch of bad things is always accurate......"

Forty-Seven took a few steps back and watched as Morriel began to cast the spell.

Morrill made a few gestures above the disc. The gaze becomes deep and focused.

She was indeed using a rather astonishing spell, and would have been unconscious for a while - if it weren't for the presence of Forty-Seven, she wouldn't have dared to take the risk. Not only is there almost no clue to find Kairo, who she hasn't seen for several years, but the trajectory of Kailo's fate has become extremely random for such a long time, even if she has not been away from Rain City for a long time, each fork in the road is connected to more forks, endlessly stretching out, and it is completely impossible to trace her location among the countless possibilities, at best to get a fragment of the scene about her current state...... Once upon a time in the land of Argus. Morriel had tried to find Forty-Seven with this spell, but to no avail, and was almost ruined by a tsunami of meaningless information that fed back back.

Moriel's spirit gradually diverged from his body and the material world he was in, and entered the infinite realm ruled by the demonic web. It was a mysterious world, as vast as the ocean, and she walked cautiously, eliminating distractions, not daring to go too far in every direction. Because the slightest carelessness will be pulled into the realm of neither life nor death, and there is no eternal scream of the past and future - this is also the terrible fate of many careless prophets.

Mist. The white mist obscured the road ahead. Arouse Morriel's high vigilance. She keenly sensed that this was not a phenomenon of a failed spell, but rather a sign of something.

Morriel cautiously entered the fog, and sure enough, he saw a small figure looming in front of him. Odd...... Wondering why such a vivid image appeared, Morrill called tentatively, "Kairo?"

The figure stopped, turned its head. Morriel froze.

It's Carrot, it's not Carrot. She smiled at Morriel with a delicate necklace, and a cold, white mist poured out of her mouth and silently rushed towards Moriel - the same bewildered mist rolled in her eyeless sockets.

"Kairo!" Morriel snapped back to his senses, fell backwards, and slumped down on the bed.

The disc on the table shattered with a "pop".

"Huh?" Forty-Seven didn't know what was going on, because all he saw was wisps of smoke from the disc and Morriel in a daze.

Neck Pendant ...... Morriel recalled the only distinct thing in the last mist, and suddenly seemed to understand something.

"When we entered the underground temple, did I wear a neck pendant?"

"What?" Forty-Seven was stunned.

"When you went to the temple in the swamp with the Blood Axe, did you forget?"

"Nope. ”

"Are you sure? I had a crystal necklace around my neck after I left the temple, didn't I?"

"That's right. Forty-seven replied in the affirmative, he was really full of eyes at that time. "Holy!" Morriel slammed to his feet, his face sinking like water