AWB Chapter 326: Believers of "Fallen Mother Goddess"
Chapter 326: Believers of "Fallen Mother Goddess"
Chapter 326: Believers of "Fallen Mother Goddess"
Cyril chuckled and shook his head: "It's already 1350 years into the Fifth Era. There's no need to be so subtle about sending intelligence agents abroad."
"Also, I'm a little curious, do you still have purebred elves?"
The elf opposite him had a furrowed brow and his chest rose and fell slightly, as if he was suppressing his anger.
After a long pause, she lowered her voice and said, "This is a secret. You will only know it after you join us."
Cyril shook his head immediately: "I'm not an elf, and I don't have any elven blood."
Then he saw a suspicious blush rise on the other person's face, and he said quickly, "But you can have elven descendants."
"As long as one elven descendant with sufficiently pure bloodline remains, it will be considered as joining the elven race, and they will gain our recognition and assistance."
"As an ancient race that has existed since the Second Age, even though we have been suppressed by tyrants and their churches, the foundation of our Elf race is incomparable to that of ordinary secret organizations."
Cyril: =—=
'
An alternate world version of marrying into another's family? What kind of plot twist is this?
And even if it's about marrying into the family, why would I choose the elves, who only have a handful of cats and dogs left, instead of the vampires who have better conditions?
Is it because you have bad tempers, or because you're not as good-looking as vampires?
Composing himself, he shook his head at the other person and said, "Sorry, I'm not interested in you elves."
As he finished speaking, the wind around him picked up a bit more, howling as if a storm might break out at any moment.
The blush faded from the elf's face as she stood across the street, staring at him in disbelief. Circling winds swirled around her, ruffling her cloak and hair.
"Why? Are you afraid of the Church of Storms, or do you look down on us elves?"
Cyril tilted his head, looking at her with the eyes of someone who looked at an idiot: "You elves nowadays have to sneak around even when you go out, and you still expect to be respected?"
"Also an ancient race from the Second Era, the vampires are doing much better than you. Even the dragons still have three ancient dragons."
call out!call out!call out!
Thin, wispy wind blades instantly materialized, slicing through the air and shooting towards Sirion.
The latter clenched his right fist, and the wind blades that approached him instantly became chaotic, slashing towards the surrounding ground and houses.
"So irritable, I'm even less interested."
As he spoke, he took a step back, and as the illusory pages in his eyes flipped through the pages, his figure vanished without a trace, like a faded oil painting.
After he disappeared, a dense, continuous barrage of wind blades swept across, leaving several deep scratches on the cement ground.
Back at the hotel, he leaned back on the sofa, reflecting on the evening's events:
Why are the elves targeting me?
Because of the conflict I displayed with the Storm Church, they thought I was worth winning over?
Shouldn't you offer money, information, or magical items to win someone over? What's the point of marrying an elf and having elves as babies?
Hmm... am I considered good-looking?
And that female pastor from the "God of War" church—I think she was a pastor—she was an official person assigned to keep an eye on me and prevent me from causing trouble.
But her behavior made it seem like she was really hoping I'd make a big fuss here.
As his thoughts drifted, his spirit was suddenly stirred, and he then saw a folded letter on the table in front of him.
He glanced around the room but didn't see the messenger.
"Erdena?"
After waiting for a while without receiving any response, he muttered something and waved his hand, causing the letter on the table to fly into his hand.
"How come they're as elusive as Bernadette's Speedster Messenger?"
After unfurling the letter in front of him, his brow furrowed deeper and deeper.
Father sent another telegram urging us, along with Mother, Beth, and Thomas, to hurry to the Seashire. Although it is now 1350, the New Year's reunion is still essential.
If it weren't for the heavy smog earlier, we should have set off last week.
Try to get back to Backlund before tomorrow morning; I've already bought tickets for the steam train tomorrow afternoon.
We can't teleport there directly; my father and the others will pick us up at the steam train station.
"I thought that by 1350 we wouldn't have to reunite for the New Year anymore, but it seems we can't escape it after all."
As he muttered to himself, he gently rubbed his fingers together, lit the letter in his hand, then took out a melodica in the form of a summoning instrument, infused it with spiritual energy, and played it once.
A few seconds later, a gray, withered figure, resembling rotten wood, appeared before him.
Cyril's eyebrows twitched twice, then his gaze shifted downwards, landing on the thick, impenetrable shadow beneath Erdfana's feet.
"Has the 'Chaotic Sea' intensified its erosion of you?"
Erdfana nodded slightly, sighed, and said, "Back in the Mirror World, the Primordial Witch destroyed one of my avatars and cursed me without my noticing."
"His curse affected my very being, disrupting the delicate balance I had been maintaining."
Cyril frowned and quickly asked, "Can you handle this? Do you need my help?"
Erdfana nodded slightly: "Yes, I have re-established a new balance. I just need some time to rest and recover to my previous state."
"That's good."
Cyril breathed a sigh of relief. Erdfana was cursed because he helped him steal the "Conqueror" trait. If Erdfana got into trouble because of this, he would be 90% responsible.
He paused, then asked somewhat hesitantly, "I need to create a clone. Will this affect your current state?"
"No." Erdfana shook her head slightly, then placed a finger on his forehead: "Relax, don't resist."
Xi Ruien stood quietly in place, suppressing his thoughts. Memories surfaced in his mind, becoming clearer and clearer, until a second version of him appeared before him.
"alright."
"I think this time you won't need to send yourself out as a message, right?"
"Of course not." Xi Ruien shook his head with a smile.
As soon as he finished speaking, Erdfana's figure faded and disappeared quickly before his eyes.
After watching the other person leave, he took out a gold Horn and used it to divine Erdfana's condition.
Only after confirming that the other party was not out of control or showed no signs of losing control did I feel relieved.
Then he looked at another version of himself in front of him, with illusory books turning in his eyes.
A series of dazzling starlight lights lit up around him, swirling rapidly and weaving together to form a phantom door covered with mysterious patterns and symbols.
It was already past midnight when he returned to the island of Sonia after sending the clone he had separated with Erdfana's help back to Backlund.
He yawned, took off his coat, and lay down on the bed to fall into a deep sleep.
In a daze, he fell back into that nightmare-like state, as if he were trapped in a dark quagmire, unable to escape no matter how hard he struggled.
He was awakened from his sleep by the blinding sunlight.
He sat up abruptly in bed, panting heavily.
"This is the second time. What exactly is this dream?"
After gathering his thoughts and calming his breathing, he got out of bed and took out the glass crystal ball from his coat pocket.
After trying astrology and divination several times, he frowned and tossed the crystal ball aside.
"I can't get any fortune telling results..."
"Should we ask Adam?"
After a few seconds of silence, he heard no voice from Adam and felt no change in his surroundings. Realizing that Adam didn't want to give a direct answer or hint, he got up and left the room.
A short while later, he returned with a breakfast.
Just then, he saw an unmarked portrait being blown in through the window by the wind and landing on the floor at his feet.
After a moment of silence, he picked up the portrait from the ground, glanced at it, memorized it, and then flicked his wrist to set it on fire.
After doing all that, he went to the window and saw the female pastor from the "God of War" church looking in his direction from the opposite window.
66
'
After labeling Cheryl as unreliable, he turned around expressionlessly and began to enjoy his breakfast in his room.
At Pier 13 of Golden Harbor, a hybrid sailboat slowly docks at the shore.
Cyril stood not far from the dock, adjusted his fisherman's hat, and gazed at the orderly disembarking crowd ahead.
Soon, his gaze settled on a young man wearing a gray wool coat over a matching wool sweater and a top hat.
His appearance bore a striking resemblance to the portrait that had been blown into his room by the wind that morning, and he also possessed a natural, approachable yet dignified air.
"Judge..."
Then, he turned his attention to the people around the other person.
After looking around, he realized that the other person seemed to have come to Sonia Island alone, and there was no one around who looked like his companion.
"Interesting. It seems they secretly infiltrated Sonia Island to conceal their identities for personal reasons."
He muttered something to himself, pulled down the brim of his hat, and turned to leave.
As he walked past a group of young people, he took out a crystal ball containing a sealed eye.
A dazzling starlight shimmered in the azure eyes within the crystal ball, and then he reached out and took out an illusory hat from the void, placing it on his head.
His figure then vanished, disappearing without a trace.
The young man in the gray coat, carrying a dark brown leather briefcase, frowned, turned around, and carefully scrutinized everyone behind him.
"Is it an illusion?"
After a moment, he looked away and continued forward.
After concealing his presence, Cyril followed the other party through a series of twists and turns, and found himself at the Frostwind Bar he had visited the previous night.
For some reason, he thought of the elf from last night.
"Cheryl's assassination list was definitely not given out randomly. Could it be related to the elves?"
He muttered something to himself and followed the other person straight to the back door of the bar. After passing through a dimly lit alley and turning several corners, they arrived at another bar that wasn't very popular.
As he stepped through the door with the other person, several thin, sharp wind blades sliced through the air, aiming straight for his face, but he nimbly dodged them.
A flicker of surprise crossed the gray-clad man's eyes, but he quickly recovered, thrusting his palm forward and declaring in Ancient Hermes, "Concealment is forbidden here!"
An invisible, strange force rippled outwards, and then Cyril's figure appeared by the door.
Seeing the person who had been following him appear, the man in gray raised his hand again and pushed forward: "Imprison!"
Layer upon layer of transparent walls appeared from all directions, trapping Cyril in place.
"Is it you?"
The sudden sound from behind made the gray-clad man pause, preventing him from using the "whip" technique.
Cyril smiled and waved to the elf behind the gray-clad man, a phantom book appearing in her eyes: "We meet again, Miss Elf."
call out!call out!
Several wind blades formed and struck the transparent wall, while Cyril's figure disappeared from the spot.
The next second, he "teleported" behind the elf, a glint of electricity flashing in his eyes.
"Well..."
The elf before him froze, fine blood vessels appearing in its azure eyes, and the immense wind pressure dissipated into gentle streams of air.
Cyril reached behind her and grabbed her by the neck, saying in a low voice, "Now, you are my hostage, Miss Elf."
"I suggest you don't resist. I don't really need a hostage. My excellent spiritual intuition will allow me to crush your neck a second before you resist."
As he spoke, the muscles in his hands bulged and the veins stood out, the immense force causing the other person to look pained and ferocious, yet unable to break free.
He then looked past the other man and at the gray-clad man, saying, "You shouldn't have any elven blood. Did this elven lady also invite you to have her child?"
The gray-clad man's expression suddenly turned grim, his eyes fixed on Sirion as if he wanted to pierce through him.
Cyril raised an eyebrow. "Did I guess right? Or perhaps you want to have a child with this elf lady, but she doesn't want to?"
The gray-clad man's expression twisted for a moment, then he seemed to break down, shouting a curse: "You son of a bitch, how dare you, an ugly toad, touch a noble swan! Get your filthy hands off Olivia..."
Amidst the malicious curses, Sirion suddenly felt a momentary daze, his heart pounding, and a wave of nausea rising in his throat, causing his grip to loosen involuntarily.
Ugh!
A violent gust of wind blew out from the elf named Olivia, sending him flying.
Upon seeing this, the man in gray immediately stopped cursing, leaned forward, clenched his fist, and waved his arm.
"die!"
His body seemed to merge with the surrounding rules, crashing into Cyril with a speed that left afterimages, his swinging fist landing on Cyril's head with an irresistible and unavoidable force.
Bang!
Cyril's body rapidly thinned and brittled, turning into a crude paper figure, which crumbled into dust under the gray-clad man's fist.
On the other side of the room, Cyril's figure came into view.
He frowned and stared at the man in gray. In his true vision, he saw a faint, deep red full moon behind the man.
Recalling the other person's earlier curse, which was filled with an eerie power, he instantly understood the situation: "Graceful Power, you are a follower of the Fallen Mother Goddess!"