The beautiful mage was kidnapped by the contracted beast again

As the most marginal area in the entire ancient fantasy realm, the Lost Forest's territory is comparable to that of a small country.

Located in the northernmost part of the continent, it has a humid and cold climate. It is shrouded in misty rain for most of the year, and only the short summer can bring warm sunshine.

The entire region is shaped like a sharp triangle, piercing into the adjacent polar ice sea like an arrow.

The closest country to it is Ernst, a small nation to the southwest that gained independence nearly fifty years ago. It was once part of the Moon Shadow Principality, one of the Eight Great Nations. Its inhabitants mostly belong to a unique race, the Frost Ink People.

People of this race are naturally good at unique control magic. Unlike common elemental magic, their magic comes from a deep understanding of the intrinsic connection between all things in the world. They can control the movement of objects through thoughts and even change the shape and properties of objects.

But at a time when elemental magic is considered mainstream, they are obviously not recognized by the world. After years of exclusion and suppression, they finally couldn't help but split up and go their own way.

And our story begins from here.

-

It was a rainy day, and the accumulated rain washed away the bluestone bricks on the street, revealing every detail. The dust in the tiny gullies was washed away by the running water, reflecting a half-dead white light all over the ground.

Everyone in Ernst was obviously accustomed to this kind of horrible weather with constant rain, and they walked forward without raising their heads.

They didn't need an umbrella. The fuzzy air rose naturally from around them, like a natural barrier, blocking the rain that was about to fall on their bodies.

But there are exceptions. At this moment, an old man with wrinkles on his face was walking slowly along the edge of the street.

He was wearing a gray robe without any decoration. It seemed that he had worn it for too long and the edges of the robe had become frayed and white.

In his left hand he held a large black umbrella, which looked like it had been picked up from a garbage dump. The umbrella was tattered and had holes in it. Some scattered raindrops seeped through it, soaking his gray hair and making it stick together.

In his other right hand, he held a large cloth bag, the opening of which was not tied tightly but wide open. The wind blew in, blowing the empty bag up like a balloon. The old man then realized that he was in trouble and flattened it, then grabbed the bag with all his strength.

Apparently, he was a scavenger.

In an era where everyone values ​​practicing magic, scavengers, who are just ordinary people at the bottom of society, are even less welcome than sewer rats.

The old man's cloth shoes stepped through the puddles, making only small splashes of water. For a man of his age, he was walking very steadily.

Most people would just glance at him and then look away. Poor creature of fate, they might think this with pity in their hearts, but few would stop to offer him a little comfort.

In this continent where force is supreme, they themselves have to think about how to survive from the hands of stronger ones. Who has the time to protect an unfortunate old man?

Perhaps the old man himself thought so too. So when a carriage made of nanmu wood, which looked very luxurious at first glance, slowly stopped in front of him, his gaze, which was as cold as the rain, finally shifted.

"Is there something wrong?" An equally old voice came from the old throat. It was low and hoarse, as if it had been rubbed by rough gravel.

His eyes fell on the carriage blocking the road. He did not feel ashamed of the obvious gap between the rich and the poor between them, or perhaps he had become numb. After all, compared to an old scavenger, even an orphan in an orphanage could be considered happy.

A corner of the beautiful curtain made of snow-white silk on the carriage was lifted, and a blond man with a cold face and full of armor walked down with a bent waist.

He seemed to have no intention of talking to the scavenger in front of him. He just casually raised his left hand and flicked the ring on the index finger of his right hand. In a flash of light, the old man's empty huge sack was filled with a pile of heavy supplies.

After doing all this, he said indifferently: "You are lucky. My master does good deeds every day, and he met you today."

After saying this, he got on the carriage without looking back.

The carriage curtain was opened again, and a girl's slightly coquettish voice sounded softly, but with a hint of blame.

"Lorent, I asked you to help that old man, but your attitude is terrible."

The knight named Lorent snorted coldly, "Miss, you don't understand. Once these people get even the slightest benefit, they'll swarm around like flies. If I'm too nice to them, they'll only become more unscrupulous in their demands."

In Lorente's opinion, weak people like the old man should have been eliminated long ago, and it was a surprise that they were still alive.

Now that I can get help from such a noble lady, it would be impolite not to kneel down and express my gratitude.

While they were talking, the luxurious carriage started quietly, the wheels rolled slowly, stirring up a cloud of water mist, and it moved farther and farther away in the rain until it disappeared at the end of the street.

The pedestrians around seemed attracted by this scene. Some of them stopped and followed the disappearing figure of the carriage with curiosity and amazement in their eyes.

"Look! The totem carved on this carriage—three swords guarding the golden sun—is that the Kyrgyz crest?"

"Yes, I just saw it too. Isn't that the blond knight who got off the car Lorent, the swordsman of the Gilgis family? He's a genius who achieved the level of a great swordsman at the age of twenty-one. With such a powerful person personally accompanying him, could the person sitting in the car be the rarely seen Miss Sophie?"

"It's very likely true. Oh my god, we are so lucky to meet someone from the Kyrgyz family here!"

"The old man should be luckier, right? Hey, where is he? Wasn't he here just now? How come he disappeared in the blink of an eye?"

The passers-by finally came to their senses and began to look for the old man.

However, the streets were empty. Apart from the cobblestone roads washed by rain and the dirty rainwater accumulated in the cracks of the stones, where was the trace of the old man?

He seemed to have disappeared without a trace in an instant, leaving behind only a bag of supplies abandoned on the roadside, lying there quietly, with no one paying attention to it.

……

Lost Forest.

The towering ancient trees block out the sun, and countless dark secrets seem to be hidden among their branches and leaves.

After the rain, sunlight shines through the gaps between the leaves, scattering mottled light and shadows all over the ground. Every ray of light seems to contain the power of life. The air is filled with a deep and primitive smell of earth, and the rich fragrance of flowers and plants is refreshing.

Here, precious herbs abound, their moist, magical soil providing the perfect environment for their cultivation. These herbs are extremely rare in the outside world, each one fetching hundreds or even thousands of gold coins. Yet, in the Lost Forest, they grow like weeds, free of charge, attracting only the attention of passing birds.

Suddenly, a brisk "thump thump" sound of footsteps was heard on the quiet forest path.

From far away, the rustling sound of leaves colliding could be heard.

Like a surprise falling from the sky, a small head wearing a brightly colored plush hat popped out from among the dense branches and leaves of the bushes.

As he moved, a few leaves got caught on his hat and hair, making his originally smooth and sleek black hair messy.

He tilted his little face, which was as white and delicate as snow, and laughed happily.

How amazing it was, a young child, a soft being totally out of place in this strange forest, crawled out of the bushes like a newborn elf.

"Miaomiao! Miaomiao! Don't run around!"

Behind him, a rough cry sounded, mixed with human-like exasperation, but it actually came from the mouth of a black bird.

It flew with difficulty among the branches and leaves, trying hard to protect its dark but full feathers. Its pair of small red eyes stared at the back of the child in front of it without blinking, for fear that the child would run away if it was not watched carefully.

"Miaomiao! Miaomiao!" After much hardship, it finally caught up with the child. After hesitating for a moment, it did not land on his slender shoulders, but dived into the child's arms, and kept calling in a low and rough voice, feeling very angry.

"Don't wander around, Grandpa will be angry if he finds out!"

The little snowball named Miaomiao tilted her head, and there was no fear in her bright eyes.

He shook the chubby black bird in his arms and retorted like a little adult: "Grandpa encouraged me to exercise more yesterday so he wouldn't be angry with me. And I came out today to find a gift for Grandpa. Big Black, don't always stop me."

Dahei clucked twice and muttered in his heart, "He won't teach you a lesson, but he will teach me a lesson."

Last time I didn't keep an eye on Miaomiao, and the child accidentally rolled down the hillside, scraping a large piece of skin off his leg.

He didn't cry. He endured the pain and limped back, and even smiled sweetly at his grandfather who had just returned home.

The old man's face looked as if his ancestral grave had been dug up. He appeared calm as he coaxed the child to bed and applied medicine to the child. But then he turned around and beat Dahei, who had failed to take good care of the child, for three hours.

Recalling the pain of his whole body of bones and flesh being smashed and mixed together like mud, Dahei couldn't help but shudder.

Miaomiao is an ordinary human child. If it does anything rashly, it may easily hurt the other person. It can only let the child change his mind and go back.

Remembering the saying in the human world that "soft things will do, hard things won't." It pondered for a moment, then quickly and obediently feigned a pitiful appearance. Its soft, black mass nestled against the child's warm body, and it pleaded, "Miaomiao, but I'm hungry."

"I'm so hungry. If I don't eat, the bird will die." It trembled as it spoke, and its expressionless face looked quite helpless for a moment.

The child who had been walking forward with determination let out a soft "ah" and stopped.

He felt the blackbird's belly, covered in soft, fine feathers, with some concern, but couldn't tell if it was bulging or not. He circled twice, squatted down, and plucked up a glowing blade of grass. "Big Black, can you eat this?"

Dahei and the child looked at the spiritualized century-old poisonous dragon grass in their hands: "..."

It was silent for a moment: "Probably not."

Poison Dragon Grass: “…”

Miaomiao sighed because of Dahei's picky eating and put the grass in her hand back.

It is impossible to give up easily. Miaomiao is a smart and brave child. There are many plants in the dense forest. He searched for a while and soon found new ones.

I saw a tree full of red fruits, each one as small and cute as a lantern, and they looked delicious.

He walked forward excitedly. Due to his height, he could only grab the ones at the bottom. He was not greedy and picked one and handed it to the bird's mouth: "Dahei, come and try it!"

Dahei looked at the mimic lava worm that looked like a fruit, but actually had red tentacles emerging from the tiny seams: "..."

Although it takes the form of a bird, it is not a true bird, and insects are not on its menu.

Ugly thing, don’t touch this bird!

It flapped its wings vigorously and swatted the newly awakened lava worm away. Before Miaomiao could get angry, it rubbed its head against Miaomiao's cheek and begged in a low voice: "Miaomiao, I don't have an appetite for food outside. I want to eat the sour berry sauce meat at home."