Half of the cold winter had passed, and for the people living in the border area, life had become more and more difficult.
Gethong Town was a prosperous and prosperous place, at least until this winter. It was located near Wintercastle and was one of the transportation hubs from Typhon to the several trading markets at the border. Even before the rise of the so-called "transnational trade", this place was an important place for merchants to gather.
The merchants that came from the north and south brought in a considerable amount of income. The merchants made the town prosperous, and after the opening of trade, the smart people with a keen sense of smell turned this place into a land of flowing gold within a year or two. It even gave the town the momentum of becoming a big city. However … the good days did not last for long.
War broke out.
Although the war had yet to reach this place, the prosperous scene was gone forever. Cross-border trade had stopped, and merchants had stayed far away from this troublesome place. The important transportation hub had been requisitioned by the Empire, and now the carriages full of money and goods had been replaced by chariots and troops that worked day and night. The locals, who originally relied on the traveling merchants to make a living, now had no choice but to "relax".
Simpson, the hotel manager, was leaning against the window, wiping the brass pipe in his hand with a worried expression. There was no more tobacco in the pipe, and the shiny pipe was spinning in his hand like a toy. A layer of water vapor had condensed on the crystal glass window, making the scene on the street appear hazy. The cold wind whistled through the streets and alleys outside the window, and some of the cold air blew in through the gaps of the window that were not tightly sealed. The middle-aged man, who had begun to lose his hair, could not help but shrink his neck again.
He looked up and saw that there were only a few people sitting in the lobby of the hotel. The layout of the hotels in town was similar. The lobby on the first floor also provided some drinks and snacks, but since the outbreak of the damn war, the only things he could sell here were watered down spirits and rough cakes.
A middle-aged man with an unshaven beard was sitting at the table closest to him. He looked just one step away from being dead drunk. In front of him were a few empty bottles of ale. The pungent smell of inferior ale seeped out from his dirty coat, mixed with many other suspicious smells.
Simpson frowned and shouted, "Saville! You have drunk enough today! "
The middle-aged man with a beard was almost on the table. When he heard the shout, he just waved his hand and did not even look up.
Simpson shook his head and felt that he had done his duty as a "good citizen". He lowered his head and continued wiping his pipe. But a series of rhythmic footsteps suddenly came from the side, and the hotel owner looked up again.
His sleepy and impatient expression quickly faded away and was replaced with a smile. He saw a beautiful lady in a dark cloak and a winter hunting suit walking by the aisle next to him. The lady's bright blonde hair seemed to warm up the terrible winter, and a pair of pointed ears peeking out from under the blonde hair reminded others of her origin.
"Ms. Sordrin, are you going out?" Simpson asked with a smile. "The weather is not good now."
"I'm leaving in the afternoon," said the elven huntress called Lady Solderlyn. Her voice had a hint of neutral magnetism. "I want to see if I can hire a carriage to go to the mountain pass before the weather gets too bad …"
"You're leaving?" Simpson could not hide his disappointment. But his disappointment was mostly due to the financial loss. Since the outbreak of this damned war, there were very few travelers who stayed here. A huntress who was not involved in this war was an extremely valuable "quality guest" in this period of time. She lived in a better room, demanded exquisite food, and was not as boorish and troublesome as the soldiers who passed by. Most importantly, she never defaulted on her rent … From a monetary point of view, this elven huntress was far better than twelve drunken Savills living here.
"I'm just passing by. My people are still waiting for me." Sordrin smiled casually and glanced in the direction of the door. The identity of an elf was a good cover here because the elven stronghold responsible for maintaining the Great Wall was located near the northwest border of Typhon. It was natural for an elf to appear in this area. As long as she was careful and did not provoke the mage sentinels and managers in the big cities, she could easily sneak into a loosely-managed border settlement like Gesong Town.
But she could not let her guard down. As the battlefield got closer and closer to the headquarters of Winter Fort, the tension in the area was escalating. The aerial battle three days ago had a far-reaching impact on the entire war. Now, the entire Winter Fort area had become the frontline. The agents of Typhon's intelligence department and the security forces under the Count of Winter Fort seemed to have smelled something and were constantly checking people coming in and out. And Simpson … had stayed here for a long time.
The necessary information had been sent away. The rangers and the MIB personnel who needed cover had been evacuated in batches. He could not stay here any longer.
"Well, you're right." Simpson shrugged helplessly. "You should go back to your people. This rough and bloody war is not suitable for an elegant elf lady like you."
Solder "Lin" just smiled after hearing the innkeeper's words. She did not correct the innkeeper's misunderstanding. Many humans seemed to have this misconception that the elves were a graceful and war-weary race. When all kinds of "ugly" wars broke out in the human world, the beautiful elves would hide in the forests and sing about peace and nature. This misconception was especially serious in the north.
However, the truth was that the ranger troops of the elves were one of the most powerful combat forces in the world. The Silver Empire had also relied on war to conquer vast territories, and there were countless barbaric and bloody tribes in the ancestral forest. The Silver Elves did not rely on art and music to make those voodoo tribes good at singing and dancing … However, there was no need to explain such minor details to a human who opened an inn near the border.
"She" just nodded to Simpson and was about to leave. But before she took a step, a sour smell came from the side. "She" could not help but stop and look in the direction of the smell. The drunk Saville had fallen asleep on the table, muttering incomprehensible curses in his sleep.
"He seems to have been here for the past few days," Sordrin asked casually. "He seems to be an acquaintance of yours?"
"Sigh … the unlucky Saville. I have some friendship with him." Simpson glanced at the table opposite him, sighed and shook his head. "He used to run a hotel on the other side of town. Unfortunately, he was blinded by those rich businessmen who came from the south and the north and was killed by their unrealistic fantasies. He borrowed a lot of money and even mortgaged his hotel in exchange for the right to use three carriages and a franchise license. That's what happened this winter. "
Sordrin listened to Simpson's sympathetic narration and could not help but look at the drunk man again.
The destruction of the war outside the battlefield was becoming more and more obvious day by day. Saville, who was lying between the bottles, was just a small miniature of it.
"She" shook her head and said casually as if talking to herself, "I hope this war ends soon."
"If so, then I'll have to thank the gods," Simpson could not help but say. He used the finger that was wiping the brass pipe to point a few times in front of his chest and made a praying gesture. "I really don't know when these terrible days will end …"
Sordrin did not respond to the innkeeper. "She" pulled the hood of her cloak, tightened the laces, and turned toward the exit of the lobby.
The door of the tavern opened and closed. A gust of cold wind blew into the tavern from the outside. Simpson could feel the cold wind on his neck and could not help but shrink back. At the same time, he subconsciously looked out of the window. He wiped the window glass and tried to find the figure of the elven huntress on the street. But all he saw was the empty street, the misty sky and the distant mountains outside the town. And between the sky and the shadows of the mountains, an iron-gray giant that seemed to be covered in armor was wandering in the void.
Simpson felt as if his heart had been struck hard by something. The hazy shadow made all the blood in his body freeze for a moment. After a few seconds, he sucked in a breath of cold air and regained the ability to think as if he had been resurrected. In his panic, he hurriedly looked out of the window again, trying to find the figure of the giant. But in the background of the mountains, there was no iron-gray armored giant at all.
It was as if it was just an illusion.
"Saville, Saville!" Simpson knocked on the table with his brass pipe and tried to call out to the person closest to him. "Did you just see … Forget it, why should I ask you?"
…
Sordrin walked around a few streets and went into an alley. He had completely concealed his aura. Even the patrolling mages did not notice that a huntress had appeared in their line of sight.
After making sure that the surroundings were completely safe, he stopped and looked in the direction of the mountains outside the town thoughtfully.
He thought of the "illusion" that people in the town occasionally mentioned recently. His face became slightly serious, but soon he concealed the change in his expression and returned to his cold and indifferent state.
After observing the surroundings again, he quickly found a place to hide and began to change his clothes. The clothes of the elves were complicated and difficult to distinguish in the eyes of humans. The special clothes changed their appearance with a slight change. He turned the original cloak over, completely changing his slightly neutral appearance. Finally, he reached his hand to the top of his head. At this step, the high-grade ranger finally could not help but hesitate for a moment. But a sentence from his good friend many years ago came to his mind: The real strong will face the bleakness of life …
He pulled off his wig and quickly put it away. The winter wind was really cold.
On the other side of the alley, a carriage had been waiting for a long time. Sordrin walked out of the alley and checked the surroundings of the carriage in less than a second. With a calm expression on his face, he came to the coachman.
"Master Sordrin." The coachman saw his employer and immediately jumped down from the carriage. At the same time, he had a respectful and flattering smile on his face. The elven monk was a mysterious profession. It was said that there were no more than a thousand excellent and knowledgeable travelers on the entire continent. Not to mention that Sordrin had paid twice the fare. It was worth it for the coachman to use all the etiquette that he had accumulated since he was born. "Shall we go now?"
"Sorry to keep you waiting." Sordrin nodded slightly and said in a deep voice, "Let's go. We'll leave the city from the west."
…
The order from Cecil City made the technicians and Bertilla completely busy. Along with them were the technicians from Cecil City who were responsible for the Psionic Songster project.
In the central area of the Thorin Tree, in a square on the west side of the trunk, Venti and a few other technicians from Cecil City were standing together with the technicians from Thorin Castle. In front of them, Selena Gehrfen, holding a lantern, gradually appeared like a spirit that had come from the Dream World into reality.
The 'Saintess of the Lantern' raised her head and looked at the strange thing floating in the middle of the open space in front of her. Finally, she could not help but look at Venti. "Do you really think that if we put this thing on the battlefield … it won't cause a huge psychological impact on our own soldiers?"
Venti opened her mouth and was about to say something when a slightly hoarse voice came from the bushes nearby. "It's really strange to hear this coming from the mouth of an eternal priest who specializes in mental attacks and creating nightmares."
Selena looked in the direction of the voice and saw Bertilla's figure rising from the bushes. The twisting and wriggling vines had condensed into an 'avatar' that was almost no different from a real person, and this avatar was walking towards them with the moving roots and vines of the lower body.
"We just create some illusions on the mental level, but this thing of yours can scare people in the real world." Selena shook her head helplessly and pointed at the thing floating in the square. It was a huge artificial brain, more than two meters in diameter. The grayish-white and slightly pinkish flesh and blood floated a few meters in the air in an anti-gravity manner. Its bumpy surface was even wriggling, expanding and contracting slightly. A large number of tentacle-like nerve cords extended from the bottom, wriggling and curling unconsciously as the body floated. "When it comes to disgusting ability, you biochemists are better."
"… Is it really that serious?" Bertilla thought for a moment and said helplessly, "But I think it's a little cute …"
The technicians behind Selena suddenly looked horrified, and Venti could not help but press her forehead.
This vegetative person's sense of beauty … seemed to have completely rotten.
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