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Chapter 459: A living fossil from 10,000 years ago

At this time, the two of them had arrived at the Mage Tower again.

"Storyteller, I've heard about you, hello." Alafashnai half-squinted his eyes and frowned slightly as he looked at the compatriot in front of him.

"Welcome." Nie Niu on this side also said excitedly.

"Hello." The storyteller nodded.

"I heard that you lost your memory, do you still remember? Are you the elf from Qiong Ning's place?" Arafashina asked again.

"Actually, I don't know much about this." The storyteller shook his head slightly.

"Commander, with all due respect, Qiong Ning is the birthplace of most elves in the world. In theory, I should know him, but I have never seen him. I should even say that I have never heard of his existence.

." Arafashina said with a frown.

"Then I don't know." The storyteller shook his head slightly and said.

"Is it possible that he has been active longer than you are?" Lin Yun said with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"I'm... not sure, but his state makes me very suspicious." Arafashina was silent for a moment, and then said.

Arafashnai has been involved in this war almost since the first jihad.

But the problem is that a mere 70 years is actually not much time for elves.

And theoretically speaking, the maximum age of an elf is theoretically 750 years old, which is even less than one-tenth of the age.

So in fact, although Alafashina looks like he has snow-white hair.

But... is it possible that it's just because his hair is this color...

To put it simply, Arafashina is strictly just an elf who is barely middle-aged.

And because of the characteristics of elves, basically they will not show signs of aging until they die of old age, and some elves will not even look old until they die of old age. This is the biggest problem with the storyteller's state.

"Okay, okay, you can do whatever you want with this kind of thing, hurry up, hurry up, I really want to know the story hidden in this." Nie Niu directly interrupted the discussion, and then took out the molten metal

The Heart of Fire book is out.

The storyteller shrank up and placed his hands on the blood-stained pages.

His face was distorted with pain, showing his ugly appearance.

His voice trembled with fear, "No. He's here again. That terrible, harsh voice. That terrifying face-like shape. That monster's appearance...with hands and feet, all

Made of countless reptiles. He touched me, and those disgusting creatures attacked my flesh and covered my body."

"It sounds like they are completely synchronized. I'm really curious about how he got this ability. Is it because he is blind?" Nie on the other side said carelessly while expressing curiosity.

"They are eating me. They are so hungry that they will eat me up, leaving only my eyes and my tongue, so that I can continue to read those damn pages. So that I can continue to translate those long-forgotten words.

The runes written in the language of the ancient elves. Then, I translated...how painfully. I tried to lie to him, changing the content of the translation...but he saw through my lie.

He was angry. I didn't lie now, I didn't lie anymore. He took a bug from my face and crushed it with his fingers on the ink bottle. Then he dipped his quill in it.

For a moment, I wrote on the runes with my blood, and I kept dictating the content... Calistria, when will this nightmare end? Let me die. Xianhir, let

Let me die."

The storyteller jerked his hand back with an expression of extreme horror. "Oh, Gods... what a terrible torture. In order to unlock the secrets in the notes, this poor man went through torture. That torture His suffering is as thick as molasses. My soul is addicted to it, and my memories are hidden behind these horrific images. I can try to pass through them, but... I need your help. Everything I see and hear tells me. Darkness surrounds a past I have long forgotten, and I will try to use your words as light to illuminate that darkness."

"What the hell? Did you write this book?" Lin Yun blinked, somewhat unresponsive.

They were looking for the owner of this book, and then tried to decipher the magic ritual inside, but they found out that this thing was actually written by a storyteller?

Then in order to decipher the ancient Elvish language of the storyteller, King Xianhir could even find someone who could translate the ancient Elvish language.

But now, the storyteller is reading the poor translator's experience...

It's amazing.

"No, I don't know exactly. I just feel that the shadow of my memory seems to be related to this book." The storyteller shook his head slightly and carefully took the blood-stained page, as if he was dealing with dangerous insects. "I saw a magical figure... There is a pulsation of power in the center... You have seen the ritual. Then tell me, where is its center point, which is its magic node? ?”

"Yeah." Lin Yun frowned slightly and tried his best to recall everything in his memory.

"I'm not sure, but maybe it has something to do with the people in the ceremony."

The storyteller trembled. "That's right...the storm of power swirled into the sharp blade. There was a living soul inside, right in the eye of the whirlwind. That soul must exist Yes, because this knife is just a tool. The energy is too dazzling, and I can't see through the light... Did you see it during the ceremony? What did it look like?"

"If you really want to say it, it might be the power of the abyss." Lin Yun thought of the magma-like existence around him.

This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! Looking back at this moment, isn’t that the corruption of the abyss?

"Yes... the rift... is the expectation to connect the worlds. Not only intelligent creatures can travel through the worlds, but also the energy of the planes. I remember it... ....Remember the sound, too. I remember the sound. There is a certain power that comes with words. Those who were doing the rituals, were they chanting certain incantations?"

"Maybe... Rauk?" Lin Yun continued, remembering the words Wally Milako shouted loudly.

The old elf couldn't breathe, and countless memories overwhelmed him. "Rauk. 'Nameless.' An ancient text with unparalleled power. The language it belongs to has lost its vitality a long time ago, but the power of its words It still exists... In the past, mages would use this word in rituals when they planned to do something that would have huge consequences and go against the laws of nature. They would protect themselves from suffering by hiding their names. The wrath of the gods. Rauk, I am nameless and traceless."

The storyteller was trembling and looked like he was about to fall down at any moment. "I remembered it now. I knew where I had seen part of this ritual... What happened to me?"

I am one step closer to the truth about this issue."

The elf's mood gradually calmed down, and the wrinkles on his face relaxed. "Thank you, just as you guessed before, this book may actually be written by me, and...

"Please, please walk into my story with me. Let's embark on this journey together." Before starting the story, the storyteller took a few deep breaths.

"They left. The people of Jonning faced the imminent fall from the sky and admitted that they were powerless to do anything about this natural disaster. Proud rulers, talented craftsmen, brave warriors, wise magicians and skilled healers

, all hurried to the portal to Soverean, looking around in fear. On the other side of the portal, a clean and safe world is waiting for them. My people do not intend to fight for Golarion.

.I feel ashamed, angry, and sad for them. This catastrophe has shaken their hearts. But my will is extremely strong. I will stay here."

"An unspeakable disaster. An unborn planet struck Golarion, whether due to elusive fate or someone's evil intentions. The impact was extremely powerful, Azlant

The continent was destroyed in an instant, turning into ash and disappearing from the face of Golarion. This burnt offering gave birth to clouds of ashes and dust that stole our sunlight. Without the warmth of the sun, the air condensed and the soil became barren.

, the creatures in the darkness crawl out of their nests and dominate everything. The most frightening thing is that losing the sun is equivalent to losing all hope in the heart. This is the dark age..."

"Holy shit!!" After hearing the storyteller's words, Lin Yun said with a grin on his face.

"What are you talking about, the Dark Ages? The Dark Ages that were almost 9,000 years ago. In other words, you are now 9,000 years old, no, maybe even that old? Oh my God, you are probably

The oldest elf I have ever seen. No, even if you really want to say it, some gods may not live as long as you. This is really amazing and unimaginable." Like a barrage of fire, Nie said

New said crazily.

Indeed, a newly ascended god like Iomedae is actually only over a thousand years old.

It is now 4715 AD, and AD is calculated based on the year when Aroden, the big boss, became famous.

Iomedae's shining expedition was only in 3832.

And the year of darkness should not be said to be a disaster.

The disaster of the meteorite was in 5293 BC. It was really more than 10,000 years ago, if you include the age of the storyteller himself.

It sounds like he still looks like a big shot, which means that conservative estimates can delay the feeling of being a few hundred years old.

A huge comet struck Golarion, causing the inner sea world to plunge into darkness for more than a thousand years. Azlant and Thesilon were destroyed.

Elves fled Golarion through the Sowerion Stone or retreated to the far north, the jungles of the south, or into the Dark Realm.

The Soverean Stone is a magnificent and boundless crystal bending arch, built by the power of the ancient gods. It is a magnificent door that can lead to other worlds.

Although the world was not directly affected by the fall of the stars, the huge tsunami still redrawn the coastline of the continent. On the other side of these disasters that devastated Azlant, the Sunken Mountains rose with a series of volcanic eruptions. .

Volcanic ash blocked the sun for several years, causing a long cold winter.

Disasters from the land, sea, and atmosphere ravaged the land, especially the Reptilian Empire of Vallsi in the south. The ashes actually only floated in Azlant's sky for a few years, but it became a hangover for more than a thousand years. A metaphor for the year.

The elves of Sharptooth Forest fled in all directions. Many made their way to Chioni, and some fled to the First World, where they eventually discovered that most of the rifts in the material plane had closed.

In Naido, three tribal leaders came to a rift in the plane where Redwang is today, praying for the salvation of their people. Boss Zong-Kusong has not even become a god, and has just been exiled from his shadow plane. He crawled out.

"How is this possible? An elf who is more than 10,000 years old." Alafashnai on the side was also a little confused at this time.

At this time, he was an elf for the first time, but it felt like a human being meeting an elf, with a strange feeling that his age was different several times.

------Digression-----

(There is a saying that storytellers are the true sense of legend, people who witness history, although it is a little less meaningful than being tens of thousands of years old in World of Warcraft next door.)

(Then in the DND2e version, elves are actually immortal. Although it is said that they will enter the hidden place by themselves after they are over 750 years old, they can gain a skill every 100 years old, such as craftsmen and carvers. Ah, things like lumberjacks can be filled up.)


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