All the noises and illusions disappeared in an instant. Before Gwen knew what was going on, his vision had returned to normal.
The corridor of the Leslie Family's castle extended in front of him. The floor was covered with a dark red carpet, and the portraits of Viscount Andrew's ancestors were hung on both sides of the walls. Between the portraits, there were charged magic crystals. These crystals were emitting a constant glow, but there seemed to be something that interfered with the transmission of the light. Although the crystals looked bright, it was abnormally dark a little further away.
Gwen subconsciously looked back and saw Knight Philip and others just stepping through the door. Their actions were naturally normal — it seemed that he was the only one who was affected, and the illusions just now only lasted for a moment. No one noticed it.
"What's wrong?" Amber noticed the change in Gwen's expression and asked in a low voice.
Gwen replied while looking around. "I seem to have encountered an illusion just now, but it only lasted for a moment."
"There is indeed magic power dissipating. Most of it is the breath left by the cultists. After coming into contact with a superior like you, it collapsed on its own," Pitman whispered. "We have to be careful. There may be magic traps here."
Gwen frowned. "Can you sense the approximate location of the cultists?"
"He is very cautious, or his power is strange." Pitman shook his head. "I can feel the twisted magic residue of Druil everywhere, but there is no breath that is' active '…"
Knight Philip clenched his sword and put the hilt on his chest. He briefly chanted the name of the Knight and the God of Warriors, Kehr. In this way, he cast a divine-like power. He then looked at the end of the corridor. "Breath converge there."
That was the direction of the Lord's Council Hall.
Gwen and Amber exchanged glances. Then Gwen took the lead, followed by Druil and Pitman, and Philip and Amber on both sides. The four of them cautiously walked forward along the corridor.
The portraits hanging on both sides of the wall glowed white under the mutated magic crystal lamps. The ancestors of the Leslie Family were hanging on the wall, looking coldly at the uninvited guests. Those white eyes were like dead fish, and Amber could not help but shudder.
Gwen just glanced at the portraits. They were only slightly mutated due to the influence of the magic environment. It was not worth worrying about. Besides, who had not hung on the wall before?
The door of the Lord's Council Hall was also ajar, and there was a faint light coming from inside. But when they got closer, neither Pitman nor Philip could sense the presence of the cultists. Gawain sensed the door and confirmed that there were no traps or hidden dangers behind the door. Then, he carefully pushed open the wooden door that was decorated with luxurious metal threads and had the Leslie family emblem engraved on it.
The Lord's Council Hall was empty. The magic crystals on the surrounding pillars and the vault sprinkled chaotic light. The table and chairs in the center of the hall had been moved to somewhere else. Only the high-back velvet chair on the platform of the hall was left. That was the seat of the Lord.
The Lord of Tanzania Town, Viscount Andrew, was sitting on the high-back chair. Behind him hung the portrait of the first generation ancestor of the Leslie family who was enfeoffed. He was breathing hard under the gaze of his ancestor. The originally tall and thin man was now so thin that he was almost shriveled. His flesh seemed to have shrunk, and his skin was tightly attached to his bones. He was like a pale and shriveled living dead. He leaned on the back of the chair, his head on his shoulder shakily, his eyes staring at the roof without focus. While breathing hard, he murmured something in a low voice.
The magic crystals on both sides of the chair emitted a white light, stretching Andrew's shadow and casting a vague shadow on the ground.
The viscount seemed to have completely lost his ability to move freely.
Gwen clenched the Sword of the Pathfinder and led Philip and Pitman into the hall. The three of them looked around vigilantly as they approached Andrew. However, the viscount did not seem to be aware of their approach. He just stared blankly at the vault, his mouth uttering chaotic sounds.
"His mind is trapped." Pitman immediately judged. "But it's not serious. I'll lift his curse, but the cultists are likely to be alarmed. Be prepared."
Gwen nodded slightly. "Let's do it."
Pitman immediately put one hand on Andrew's forehead, and the other hand took out a small bottle from his pocket. He bit off the cork of the bottle and dripped a few drops of the liquid on the viscount's head.
A strange and strong floral fragrance emanated from the few drops of liquid, and accompanied by Druil's spell, it produced a strong exorcism and tranquilization effect. The sorcery that bound Andrew's mind was affected and began to loosen little by little.
Suddenly, Andrew's eyelids fluttered. He recovered from the chaos and looked at Gwen standing in front of him. His eyes instantly widened, and a hoarse and terrifying voice came from his throat. "He's in my shadow!"
Almost as soon as the viscount's voice trailed off, his shadow on the ground began to distort. The magic crystals behind the chair shattered, and the shadow on the ground suddenly grew bigger. A dark figure pounced out from it and went straight for Gwen's face.
But Gwen seemed to have expected it. Before Andrew's warning, he had already jumped back. Before the shadow rushed out, he had already pulled Pitman away from the platform, and Knight Philip followed closely behind.
The shadow missed, and before it could recover, the shadow on the ground twisted again. A foot in a short leather boot flew out and kicked the shadow in the back. "I'm in your shadow!"
The figure was suddenly kicked out of its shadow form and fell from the stage in a sorry state. However, it disintegrated into smoke and dust in midair and was carried by a gust of wind to the other end of the hall. It then condensed into a black-robed entity with an unknown face.
Amber completely jumped out of the shadow and quickly rushed to Gwen's back.
Gwen looked at the black-robed figure with a half-smile. "A mage-type character, instead of hiding in the dark and throwing lightning balls, had to come out to assassinate a plate-armored Knight. Are all the members of Everything's End like you?"
The black-robed figure failed to control its shock. "You're actually not affected by the Voice of Truth?!"
"Voice of Truth? You mean the spell you left on the door? The one that heard the noise when the first person came in? " Gwen asked curiously. "Ah, I did hear it. But when I wanted to talk to it, the sound was gone. Could it be that one sentence from me made it go crazy? "
When the black-robed figure heard Gwen's words, it seemed to have fallen into a great rage. Its hood shook, and a vicious curse came from the shadow. "Violating the iron law of Everything's End, heretic who returned from the kingdom of the dead to the world of the living. You really shouldn't exist in this world!"
As its voice trailed off, everyone suddenly heard a series of cracking and shattering sounds coming from outside the hall!
The windows of the meeting hall were shattered, and the doors were also shattered by the huge force. Thick branches and vines broke through all the doors and windows and rushed into the hall.
The plants that rushed into the hall rolled on the ground, and with a creaking sound, they twisted and deformed and stood up. They were Treants that were over two meters tall, and they were completely different from the Treants that Druil summoned under normal circumstances. Their branches and leaves were twisted and rotten, and there were countless cracks on the surface of their bodies. Poisonous sap flowed out from the cracks, emitting a pungent stench.
As everyone knew, when Druil of Everything's End betrayed the faith of life and nature, the power of "life" disappeared from their spells.
These Treants began to attack Gwen and his party.
"Their core is in that black rotten leaf!" Pitman quickly threw out a few magic seeds and shouted at the same time, "Don't let the venom splash on your eyes!"
The magic seeds fell on the ground and emitted a burst of green brilliance. Then, under Druil's spell, they quickly took root and grew into tough vines or thorns to bind the Treants that came from all directions.
Gwen could not help but take a deep look at Pitman. Then, he looked away and swung his sword to cut off the arm of a Treant.
Amber and Philip were also tangled up with the rotten Treants.
In this chaotic and intense battle, Gwen's attention was always on the black-robed cultist.
The black-robed figure had not really participated in the battle except for letting the Treants in. He just watched from afar, looking silent and gloomy, but was reluctant to make a move.
Gwen instantly understood what was going on: this cultist knew about Gwen Cecil.
He knew who he was and how famous he was as the "Legend of Resurrection". Although he was very arrogant in the beginning, he was obviously bluffing. He had not made a move yet, probably because he really did not dare to make a move.
But he commanded the Treants to fight and did not leave in a hurry. This meant that he had probably guessed that "Gwen Cecil is in a weak state after being resurrected"!
He was observing and judging how much power he had after being resurrected as a "Legend". He was undoubtedly taking a risk, and there was definitely something in this place that was worth the risk.
Gawain's mind raced. In the short span of two to three slashes, he had already thought of a lot of things. Although he still didn't know how the cultist had obtained information about him, or how much he knew or deduced, or what the cultist wanted, that didn't stop him from setting up a trap to get rid of the cultist as soon as possible.
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