Accompanied by a sharp whistle, a sharp arrow passed over the heads of the two wizards and struck hard in front of the ogre tribe's bonfire, splashing up a cloud of dark soil.
The dull sound of hoofbeats came from all directions, and Gan Ning felt as if the whole forest was shaking.
Centaur knights wearing leather armor appeared in the night one after another. They seemed not to see the two wizards close at hand. They whizzed past them silently and marched toward the little boy in a strict but loose formation.
The small camp of ogres surrounded them, and the sound of bowstrings ringing could be heard, but not a single ogre was hit by an arrow.
This is an expulsion, not a war.
A sudden realization came to the young wizard's mind - probably this wandering ogre tribe had invaded the centaurs' territory and caused this disaster - at the same time, sharp arrows fell from the sky one after another, with precise accuracy.
fell around the ogre priest, and the ogre warriors roared, waving huge wooden sticks, and bravely surrounded the priest.
However, compared with the nearly a hundred horsemen and knights, the ogre tribe with only a dozen warriors looked particularly weak.
…
…
"...But even if he is as determined as Whateley, becomes a top wizard, and possesses huge magical power, he still cannot resist the distortion originating from the depths of the demon's flesh and blood. Under the dominance of the instinct to pursue power, he loses himself."
Professor Monteria seemed not to see the imminent tribal conflict. He folded his hands and his arms disappeared into the wide sleeves of his robe again. His voice was as smooth as ever: "With its contrast, our second-year young assistant teacher is so...
It’s precious, can you understand it now?”
Gan Ning was speechless.
During the battle between Whateley and the school wizard, he was high up in the sky, sitting on the back of a huge crow, and witnessed the entire process with Professor Monteria, even the final complete collapse of the dark wizard's real body, and the events he intervened in
reason.
Although he laughed at Whateley in front of the professor as a 'stupid dark wizard who lacks self-control', he clearly knew that Whateley was already the best experimental subject prepared by the crows.
"Just because I can understand, I can't understand your choice."
Gan Ning lowered his head, recalling the scene that seemed like an illusion just now, his eyes were a little dark: "You clearly know the terrifying power of that distortion, and you also know that our experiment has not been completely successful... There is a slight difference, a world of difference.
Why would you choose to take such a big risk to advance at this time?"
"Because we don't have any more time."
Professor Monteria did not hide it, but told the young assistant the real answer directly: "After the Black Prison War, the school focused more attention on the island. We have no time... and the experiment has progressed to this point.
I must personally experience its transformation process in order to give you the most reliable guidance. From another perspective, Whateley's results prove that our previous experiments have reached the extreme, and there is no way forward, except for death.
There may be a glimmer of hope.”
At this point, the professor suddenly chuckled: "Then fate played a little joke on us. While I was advancing, you accidentally found an experimental subject that can truly resist distortion... This is mine.
Unfortunately, you are lucky."
Gan Ning's head lowered lower and lower, as if a pair of invisible hands were pressing on his shoulders, making him breathless.
"Are you stressed?" The professor seemed to understand the young wizard's mentality.
Gan Ning whimpered, as if he was saying 'yes', but also as if he was denying it.
The professor chuckled and made an analogy: "It's right to feel stressed and out of breath. When the hunting competition reaches the last half hour, each hunter's body has reached its limit. Your magic power is almost
Dry, your lungs are roaring, your heart is screaming, and your muscles are exhausted as if they are being roasted in a fire. Your whole body is asking you to give up so that this pain can end as soon as possible. But the whistle that can really end everything is still half way through.
Hours away... So at this time, you should take a few deep breaths, squeeze out the last few drops of magic power in your body, and turn your fingers of the Dharma book without trembling at all."
"Never give up." The young wizard murmured, expressing his thoughts.
The professor categorically denied: "No, never giving up is just the most basic thing, but if you want to get the prey you want in the hunt, just not giving up is not enough... You should never let anything interfere with your ultimate goal.
Pure and independent will. Do you remember what I often said to you?"
Gan Ning blurted out almost without thinking: "Only by staring at the purest darkness can we detect the extremely subtle light of hope."
The professor raised his hand and patted his shoulder: "I have sunk into darkness now. If I have a chance to see that light, you must seize it."
…
…
After Gan Ning left.
Professor Monteria still stood there, motionless, silently watching the gunpowder-filled negotiation between the centaurs tribe and the ogre tribe not far away.
for a long time.
His figure seemed to be melting into the moonlight, and the edges became blurred. Pieces of broad black crow feathers protruded from the large cloak draped over him. Light black mist gushes out from the bottom of the robe, rolling and rolling.
It was like a spreading mountain fire or like a flood breaking through a dam, with his figure as the center, sweeping away to the left and right, deep into the forest.
The moonlight passed through the treetops and fell hard, shining on Professor Monteria's face.
In the mist, the professor's eyes remained calm, but his pale face suddenly became distorted, and sharp buds emerged from his face uncontrollably, like flesh-colored worms, falling at his feet, eager to blend in.
The shadows under his feet made the shadows under his feet darker.
The rich black color is like the open arms of a giant, surrounding the centaurs and ogres who are negotiating in the center. If you look down from the sky, you can see a dark ink circle suddenly appeared in the silent forest. In the center of the circle
A bit of fire is blooming out its last bit of light tenaciously and stubbornly.
The suddenly darkening sky and the thick mist rising all around made the old priest of the ogre tribe feel deeply uneasy.
"Quiet!"
His old face looked around, his eyes were majestic and sincere, and his voice contained an absorbing magic power that instantly silenced the ogre warriors and centaur warriors at the same time.
Immediately, he paused the staff in his hand heavily, and the young head under his jaw and the old head above his jaw shouted an ancient shamanic mantra:
"circle-of-life!"
At the same time, he cut his wrist open without hesitation, and purple blood spurted into the fire in front of him. The fire suddenly surged, and strings of light green halos rose from the fire and scattered around.