Standing at the entrance of the commercial area, Marceau looked at the small furnace when he was looking at it. It was a copper furnace with a strong grassland elves and Song people's style. In the glorious era, the transaction between the Song people and the tribes of the Ayarok continent had begun. The Song people's talent in handicrafts was highly praised by the elves. Therefore, this furnace has a furnace lifting ring woven by copper wire unique to the Song people. The oil wood used inside allowed the flame to be ignited in full, and it had no smell. Even if it touched the appearance, it was not the unbearable high temperature.

Marceau had read the history of the game before and found that the worship of fire was born in the dark age before the Battle of the Four Towers. At that time, the wizards' floating city was still flying in the sky, destroying the floating city, and pushing down the Four Towers. The four towers battle era was still far away. At that time, the people of Green Forest could be said to be living in dire straits, because the flame of the arcane will never be used by the civilians at will. Every household cherishes the flame in their furnace very much. Over time, the flame became the most beautiful thing in the eyes of every Green Forest man. In the dark age, the element of fire became the spiritual sustenance of all living people who are still resisting evil and the undead to erode this plane.

Therefore, the fire transmitter became a unique "work" in the Green Forest Kingdom. This fire transmitter is usually a paladin or a priest in the orderly camp. The flames in the torch furnace in his hand are taken from the thousands of households in the city where he works. If the fire of any family is unfortunately extinguished, the fire transmitter will come to his home and use the flames in his hand to reignite the fire for him. The family will pay the corresponding gold coins to serve as the fire transmitter and the neighbors who are willing to share the fire.

In the dark era, the fire transmitter was the most special profession in the Green Forest Liberation Army. Every time a city is liberated, the fire transmitter will use flames to completely purify the city. The Green Forest people feel that only by doing this, using flames (whether ordinary flames or sacred flames) can we rebuild a new city on its ruins.

In that era, only the most devout paladins could be the one who was the most pious paladin, and this profession would rush to the front line every time when the city was liberated, so the death rate was very high. In the historical record, Marceau also found Flid's sister, the six daughters of the Kakaran family, including the agent. The six sisters were also a fire transmitter back then. In the end, the five sisters were all killed in battle, but she survived... Looking at the fire in her hand, Marceau tightened her hand with the copper-woven ring, then turned her head to look at Anne and Yang and smiled: "Don't be afraid." He said so.

Then he took a step forward and took a step forward. The surging crowd disappeared. The streets became dilapidated. The bluestone pavement was covered with mud. The houses on the roadside were damaged. The walls fell on the roadside. The trees withered and necrotic in an instant. The sky was covered with black clouds. Someone came from a distance with a fire. Further away, the whistling of the dead gradually approached.

Marceau stood by the roadside, watching the grassland elves carrying fire approaching, and as they looked at themselves with shock, Marceau pointed behind him: "Run, run."

They ran past Marceau with them. One of the grassland elves turned his head and looked at Marceau, finally turned his head with his mouth and disappeared into the gradually thickening mist with his companions.

Marceau turned around and took a step forward.

The dilapidated streets were as old as the bluestone slabs under the mud became fragmented. Marceau walked past the damaged house and looked at the ghouls on the ruins. These ghouls also watched him. The cat who had completely turned evil and shook his head with the fire, and finally sighed silently and took another step.

The withered and necrotic trees became increasingly terrifying. The sky was as dark as the bottom of a pot that had been used for a long time. The cat fought against the mud among the ruined ruins until a ray of sunshine was shining through the sky.

He raised his head and watched the second and third rays of sunlight shine through the clouds. Marceau turned sideways, watching the players hugging each other on the streets crying with joy, and watching a grassland elves holding a flag come over. He looked at Marceau and gradually smiled: "I have seen you, two hundred years ago, Varitopol."

Marceau also thought of this already aged grassland elf who escaped with the fire, but turned around to look at his grassland elf.

Marceau nodded, he raised the fire and pulled out a small piece of carbon from it. The fire transmitter behind the grassland elf immediately took the carbon from Marceau's hand carefully and put it into the torch in his hand.

"Lonely fire transmitter, I have received your fire. May I ask which family the flame in your hand is from... Kakaran, Kakaran of Varitopol." Marceau's soul sounded in his mind, and then the cat bowed his chest and continued to move forward with the fire in his hand.

Through the burning ruins and walking through the streets full of torch ashes, the city was rebuilt, and Marceau once again returned to his flesh and blood.

Time is changing, but Marceau's footsteps are still, smelling the delicious food on the street and listening to the children running by their side in laughter, there is a smile on the cat's face. This should be the history recorded by the Kakaran family represented by the fire in his hand.

The dark age came, the dark age ended, the old towns were purified, new towns were established, and civilization returned to this plane again.

Marceau continued to move forward. The house in front of him experienced dilapidation, purification, reconstruction, and gradually began to become dilapidated. Finally, Marceau stood in front of the door, and the whole city returned to its original appearance. The door of the old house in front of Marceau opened automatically, and the ashes rose up in between, causing the cat to sneeze several times. Finally, the cat covered its mouth and nose, and waited until the dust was calmed down, and then walked into the hall. The cat looked at the extinguished fireplace, finally walked over, took out a small piece of carbon from it, and threw it into the fire.

The next moment, the fire was ignited and the whole hall was completely renewed. Marceau turned his head and looked at the girl sitting in front of the easel. The cat walked slowly to her side and looked at the empty canvas: "You can't imagine what to draw."

The prairie elf girl turned her head and looked at Marceau with her withered face: "Why do you still have to come here?"

"I will come to you with the flames of your family." Marceau lifted up his blindfold, and the pure white soul fire rolled in the cat's eyes.

The grassland elf girl...it should be Flid. Her dry head cannot have an expression, but her soul sound is full of anxiety: "Eremias...my sister, what's wrong with her!"

"She is too old and has no male descendants. The entire Kakaran family and the Payne family of Varitopol have reached the end, and I... are the fire transmitters who represent the last glory of the two families." Marceau said seriously.

"So... it's Alemias who chose you, that's really great." Flid sighed, and Marceau glanced at the canvas: "Is it interesting that you look at the canvas in this whole day without drawing anything?"

"When I was young, I wanted to be a painter, so I pestered my grandfather and asked him to send me a beautiful easel and canvas... But until I died, I couldn't touch it. Your name is Marceau... Can you draw?"

"Me?" Marceau pointed at himself.

"Well, can you draw one for me... to draw something that makes me feel warm?" She hugged herself, her dry body and limbs were full of burning marks. The cat nodded with heartache. He pinned the fire to his waist, then took the brush and paint she handed over, and then stood on the small chair and drew a round picture similar to the sun for the girl.

Flid looked at the things on the canvas with some nostalgia: "Is it... the sun?" She asked with some uncertainty.

"It's the sun, nothing wrong." Marceau nodded, put down his pen and paint board, and Marceau stretched out his hand and held Flid's hand: "It's lonely here, right? So he thought of finding them to settle down and play with them, right?"

"...Don't take everyone away, don't leave Flid... alone here." There was a hint of sob in Flid's voice, and Marceau shook his head: "No, you go with them and leave this ghost place together."

"Together?" Flid's voice was full of surprise: "I am... so too." Marceau approached Flid's face, and the cat reached out to touch the scorch marks on her face: "Follow me, I'll take you, and settle them out of the gap between this time and the empty face..." Marceau turned around and looked at the headless gentleman standing on the side of the gate and the head he was holding in his hand.

"Abductor, do you have any last words to say?" the head asked with a smile.
Chapter completed!