After the holy sword is broken

Chapter 18

The sacrificial bonfire was lit, and the flames swallowed the oiled wood and jumped extremely high.

The scorching heat of the flames drove the force of the wind, fueling the flames even more.

A long table is placed in front of the bonfire, which is filled with fresh fruits and wine as sacrifices.The priest of the Lord of Death and Sacrifice stood in front of the long table and led the crowd to sing the hymns of sacrifice.

The people who sang in the chorus included members of the religious order and residents of the town, most of them were humans, and occasionally elves and dwarfs could be seen, and dwarves would never step into the gate of the poem of truth.

Male voices, female voices, and children's voices are mixed together, and the singing echoes in a low voice around the silent fire, accompanied only by the occasional crackling of sparks.

The silence, but revealing the unspeakable holiness, is singing the praises of the pure land on the other side.

The flames were printed on everyone's faces, and their expressions were solemn and solemn. Standing in the empty space, it was like being in a temple.

There were waves of fluctuations in the energy field around the bonfire, which was the blessing of the gods.

The priest in front poured the wine contained in the silver cup into the fire, bringing a grand light.He held a long fugitive list and read it one by one, and Alger heard Fei Luo's name from it.

After another long and obscure prayer, the parchment was sent to the fire, and it ended simply.

The priest raised his hand, indicating that everyone can leave.

Next, anyone can talk to their dead relatives and friends in front of the bonfire that connects the world with the kingdom of God.

"Fei Luo, I hope you are on the other side and can enjoy peace forever."

Alger smiled at the raging fire, his silver-gray eyes faded away from the metal-like inorganic indifference, and floated tenderly: "It's a pity you didn't tell me your last wish, if you have anything to say, come to my dream tonight Let's go."

The dancing flames dyed his silver-gray hair orange-red. He stood too close, almost stepping into the fire. The tongue of fire occasionally licked his hand, but he remained motionless, as if he didn't feel anything.

"You are not afraid of being scalded, your clothes will catch on."

The tone of the female voice is a little cold.

Alger turned around: "Mother, you are here."

The Druid waved at him, beckoning him to come closer: "I'll come and see you, I'll leave right away."

"The last dance of prayers hasn't started yet, why don't you stay a little longer?"

At the end of the prayer festival, a sacrificial dance will be arranged to thank the god of death for the gift, which is the most lively and anticipated part of the whole festival.

Maureen shook her head: "No, I've seen it for decades, and I haven't seen anything new."

Alger smiled, noticing that the chief priest was standing behind his adoptive mother, in front of a building, looking this way, so he bowed his head and saluted him.

Maureen followed Alger's gaze and turned her head, as if she had just realized it, she also saluted him.

The chief priest nodded and left without saying anything.

Alger continued talking with his adoptive mother.

"Shall I accompany you back?" It was already very late.

"Need not."

Just as Maureen finished refusing, a voice came from the side: "Who is this?"

Turning his head, it was a young man who asked aloud.

It was a young man as handsome as a bright silver moon, with black hair falling down his shoulders like a waterfall, and clear eyes like ice sapphires, washed with stream water and placed under the moonlight, shining with broken light.

Everyone who sees him will give out admiration from the bottom of their hearts.

"Mr. Burgess."

Alger said his name.

Burgess nodded, not very happy, walked up to him, and asked again: "Who is this?"

A beautiful, strange woman is enough to make him sound the alarm in his heart.

What's more, the two seem very close.

"This is my mother, a Druid." Argel introduced to him.

"Mother, this is Mr. Burgess, the most outstanding young blacksmith in the human empire."

It turned out to be my aunt...

Burgess showed the smile that could make the ladies happy when he was in the royal city, and praised reservedly and earnestly:

"It turned out to be Alger's mother. You look so young. When I first saw you, I was still thinking hard about why a girl who has not been precipitated by time has such an outstanding temperament."

"Thank you." Maureen didn't seem to like this kind of thing very much, she still looked calm and smiled: "I've also heard rumors about you, and I saw you today, and you are indeed as outstanding and dazzling as the rumors say."

After a few polite conversations, she turned to Alger: "You two continue talking, I'm leaving first."

She raised her hand, paused in mid-air, lowered it with some hesitation, and patted Alger's shoulder lightly.

"If you are sad, you can come back and live for a few days."

"it is good."

Burgess looked at the back of Maureen leaving, and then looked at Alger, and always felt that the mother and child were a little strange, but he couldn't tell what was wrong.

Probably feel a little alienated, is it because there is no blood relationship?

"What's the matter?" Alger asked with a slight smile at him.

"It's nothing." Burgess shook his head: "She just said, sad? Did something happen?"

"Bad mood, bad things, there is no need to spread more."

"You came to me... that day, it was so abnormal because of this." Burgess guessed, but his tone was very firm.

"Something related to the Lord of Sacrifice happened, right?"

Alger froze for a moment, then he simply nodded: "Yes."

"Alger."

Burgess looked stern, and put his hand on the other's shoulder, as if he had something to say.But as soon as he touched it, his hand bounced away like an electric shock.

With a slight inhalation sound, he shook his hands slightly and frowned: "Why are you so hot?"

Suddenly he understood why Maureen was so hesitant when she patted him on the shoulder just now.

"Maybe I stood too close to the fire just now." Alger's eyes were blank and innocent.

"As close as that?" Burgess pointed to his apprentice. Not far away, the little boy was standing in front of the fire, imitating the behavior of the people around him, praying to the gods.

"Closer." Argel stretched out his hand and gestured.

"Why don't you just go in?"

"...the clothes will wear."

You really want to get in, do you want to set yourself on fire?

Burgess was furious.

Seeing Alger stretch out his hand towards him, he took half a step back vigilantly, and it was rare to resist: "Don't touch me."

Alger raised his hands above his head: "Okay, I won't touch you, I just want to see if I'm burned."

Burgess rubbed his fingertips: "It's okay. After all, I am also a veteran in dealing with high-temperature stoves. This temperature is not high enough."

Then you still have such a big reaction?

Alger laughed inwardly.

"For the sake of what happened, let me forgive you." Burgess returned to his arrogant air: "If there is another time, I will—"

He gritted his teeth: "Don't think about that sword in your life."

Alger didn't really understand why Burgess was angry, just like he didn't understand why Burgess had such strong feelings for him.

"What you don't understand is love."

He was stopped by the bard again on the first morning after the Prayer Festival, and he was about to meet Burgess to discuss about Topaz.

A romantic poet with strange purple eyes sat under a tree in the middle of the street, holding his lute in his hand.

The elf sage sat next to him, with an elegant posture, and a respectful expression was faintly visible in his expression.

The elves are a proud race. As the darlings of the gods and the forest, they always think highly of themselves when facing other races on the continent.

There are very few people who can show them respect.

It is really a question that easily arouses curiosity, about the identity of the bard.

But Alger has long been used to silence and restraint. Facing this continent full of secrets, he will always put away his undue desire to explore.

"Then, what is love?"

—and only ask what he should know.

The lute emits a string of melodious notes, and the poet's purple eyes hide the vast and mysterious sea of ​​stars.

"This is not a question that can be answered by words alone. I can tell you countless love stories throughout the ages, and poems written by those princes and nobles, those poor peasants and untouchables, but I cannot directly tell you the answer."

"You pose me a problem without telling me its solution. It will haunt me all the time, and that is not kind, poet."

"That's just what I enjoy, sir."

The bard winked at him, plucked the strings with a smile, and sang a poem that no one had heard before in a soft tone.

"I have already approached the mage, and she told me that this topaz may be connected to a large-scale ceremony, and its function is to serve as an external connection point to absorb power from other places. These powers include but are not limited to life force, Magical energy, luck regarding wealth or career, and more.

"There is very clever concealment magic attached to it. Its level is not high, but it can hide the fluctuations through the interaction between magic. If it is not known in advance, it is generally difficult to find abnormalities in ordinary inspections.

"Because it was placed in the church's warehouse, and the storage box had a special seal, it never affected the church, so no one noticed.

"All in all, the stuff behind it seems complicated, are we really going to keep using it?"

Alger finished explaining the information he had received in one breath, and looked at Burgess inquiringly.

"Thank the gods, all the hidden dangers are so clearly laid out. Do you think that this is just a trouble related to a topaz? Behind this, what is involved is the must-pass barrier before the forging of the holy sword .”

Burgess took a sip of black tea. In recent days, he has been adding a lot of sugar to the hot drink, and finally returned to normal sweetness today.

"If you insist on ignoring these problems and insist on changing a stone, then I would trouble you to refine another [Brightness Drop] potion. First, ten tears of the holy spirit, and then the holy river in the Kingdom of the Goddess of Light." Five drops of river water, mixed with phoenix feathers, and then..."

Alger made a stop gesture: "You don't need to say any more, I take back my childish and ignorant proposal."

"I've said from the beginning that casting a holy sword is a very troublesome thing." Burgess closed his eyes slightly and said leisurely.

"Just by hearing this perfunctory name, you should know that his creators have worked so hard for him that they don't even have the energy to think about a decent name."

Is that so...

Alger felt that this statement seemed, not very credible.

"The next thing to consider is not how to bypass it, but how to solve it. And it must be fast, otherwise a bigger disaster will definitely come."

He still closed his eyes, gently turning the teacup in his hand.

"Your words are very prophetic."

"It's just an experienced blacksmith, providing you with reliable advice."

"Okay." Alger compromised: "This stone, apart from being able to absorb the power of the outside world, is also an anchor point. We can use it to trace the source of the ceremony in reverse."

"Then let's go." Burgess put down the teacup and stood up.

"Now?"

"Do you still want to take a bath and change clothes, pray at the altar, ask for divine revelation, and then go to say goodbye to your mother and friends in turn?"

"...don't be so sharp, Mr. Burgess."

Are you not angry?

The author has something to say: Straight men's confusion: Didn't they say they were finally angry?