After the holy sword is broken

It's a flame bird.

A subspecies of the mythical phoenix.

Alger recognized this magical creature that was rampant in the streets and alleys.

It broke out from the box where the imprisoning magic circle was placed. The orange-red feathers were somewhat dim and messy. The flame of talent was much weaker than what was recorded in the book, and it seemed that it would be extinguished at any time.

But it is indeed a flame bird.

The flame bird had just escaped from the shackles of the magic circle, and bumped into it indiscriminately, causing disturbances.

It passed the orc slave and his master, and the terrified slave master drove away with a whip|whip.

The girls squatted down in exclamation as they watched the flaming bird's wings slash.

It turned to the elf and the children surrounding him. The elf sage protected the children behind him, and the instant magic shield rubbed against the flame bird, causing ripples.

Turning in the direction, he flew towards the big tree in the middle of the street.

The bard under the tree played a few notes lightly, and the magic wave spread out with the sound of the music. The flight trajectory of the flame bird turned sharply, and flew away obliquely upwards, and its long tail feathers raised a few sparks.

Several attacks were over in an instant.

Alger's eyes followed the source of the commotion and focused on it.

When it was going to the sky, he ran forward, stepped on the table outside the dwarf blacksmith shop, and jumped towards the direction of the flame bird with his strength.

Grabbing the slender tail feathers of the flame bird, and pulling it down, the magical creature uttered a cry in pain, and the weak flames on its body suddenly rose like oil.

Argel was not afraid of the raging fire, and with his strength, he rolled up in the air and firmly grabbed the flame bird's neck.Don't forget to clamp the flapping wings of the bird with one hand.

The flames started from where the executor touched, and faded away like an ebbing tide.

One person, one bird, falling from top to bottom.

The flame bird was firmly suppressed to the ground, and the flames surrounding its body spread out and went out in an instant. It let out a powerless wail, and tears dripped from its golden-red eyes.

The townspeople who escaped from the danger gathered around sparsely, looking at the flame bird on the ground with curiosity.

A businessman hurried in and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"My lord," he said with an apologetic smile, "I am very grateful to you for restraining this animal so that it did not cause a catastrophe. Oh, Gods bless, this is going to be sent to the king's city. If lost..."

The merchant's eyes fell on Alger's strange silver hair and silver pupils indiscriminately, and his mouth was still talking. On the other side, the servants brought out a new box, and a stick full of runes. Thick iron chain.

The flame bird's moaning intensified, and it struggled hard, but no matter how hard it tried, it was still firmly suppressed.

Its golden-red eyes were full of water, and it looked at Alger pleadingly.

The young executor remembered that this magical creature possessed high spirituality.Faced with such a look, he couldn't help feeling sympathetic, but in the end, he still handed it over to the servants holding the chain and the cage.

"Sorry." The executor said softly.

The flame bird let out a low whimper, and the chains were wrapped around its body, and the wooden box carved with restrictions was opened and closed, blocking Alger's gaze.

"My lord, thank you again. May I ask where you are staying, and I will definitely come to thank you someday."

Alger shook his head: "No need."

Among the onlookers, a girl raised her voice and interjected: "You are not a resident of Dock Town, are you? This is Mr. Alger from the poem of truth."

Members of the order rarely disclose their positions to the public, but their names are often announced.Having lived in Dock Town for many years, Alger was not surprised that someone could call him by his name.

"It turned out to be the master of the sect." The businessman suddenly realized, and his attitude was quite enthusiastic: "When I return from Wangcheng, I will definitely visit."

Alger still shook his head: "No need."

He looked at the heavily sealed box.It seems that what he did was not so glorious and praiseworthy.

"If you can, don't abuse it."

"It?" The businessman was stunned, and then laughed: "Don't worry, it is our cash cow, and I can't wait to confess it. If I hadn't struggled too hard and didn't cooperate at all, I wouldn't have treated it so roughly."

The businessman thanked him again and again, urged the coachman and servants, and left in a hurry, probably in order to rush to board the ship.

The surrounding crowd has not dispersed.

Alger was just about to say something to appease the frightened people when he saw a dwarf approaching aggressively.

Seeing the short, bearded man with a flushed face approaching him, Alger had an intuition that something was wrong. Before he could remember how he had offended him, his head started to hurt.

Sure enough, the dwarf, who was just as tall as Alger's waist, but with an extremely strong and strong body, uttered a loud voice before he walked in front of him:

"Poem of Truth boy! How dare you use my desk as a springboard! Do you know what's on it?! Rude! Disrespectful!"

Among the onlookers, the blond-haired elf sage smiled, his blue eyes reminiscent of the vitality of late spring.

Elvish language is as beautiful as poetry. When the elves speak the common language of the mainland, they also have a pleasant melody: "My God, the dwarves say that other races are rude."

The dwarf glared at him, and spoke vehemently: "Shut up! Crispy sissy elf!"

After scolding the elves, he concentrated his firepower on Alger again. It was not enough to use the common language of the mainland, and there were also straightforward words pronounced in dwarf language between his words.

The elf sage covered the ears of the children beside him, shrugged helplessly, and gave Alger a sympathetic look.

All the onlookers laughed, and the bard casually played a few brisk notes to echo the joyous atmosphere.

Alger wanted to sigh, but also found it funny.

The dwarves really hate the poem of truth... In the cult, the only people who can get a little tolerance from them are those who also believe in the God of Forging.

In the crowd, a man in a coarse robe took half a step forward, as if he wanted to go in and stop the dwarf's endless scolding, but he stopped short as soon as he moved.

In the dwarf blacksmith's shop opposite, there was a polished metal plate standing upright, on which was printed his appearance at this time.

His hair was messy, his beard hadn't been shaved for a long time, and his coarse white robe was wrinkled all over his body, making him look gray.Out of tune with the glamorous crowd around.

Facing the smooth metal plate, he raised an eyebrow.

He wasn't like that.

It's just that I left the royal city temporarily, and I didn't need to cater to the flowers and praises, and unconsciously, I let myself develop this kind of virtue.

Judging from the aesthetics he cultivated from growing up among dwarves, there is nothing wrong with this image.But he didn't want to just appear in front of that person.

On the other side, at the center of the excitement, Alger apologized to the dwarves repeatedly, retreated step by step to the edge of the circle surrounded by the crowd, turned around and ran away from the crowd.

Reluctantly, the dwarf took two steps forward, yelling and cursing loudly in the direction the executor left.

Suddenly, the dwarf blacksmith felt his shoulders sink.

Turning around, it was a human holding him down.

It's human again!

Looking up, he first saw a talisman engraved with the holy emblem of the God of Forging.The anger eased a little.

Further up, there is a beard, thick black hair, a little messy, and he smells it carefully, and he still has the familiar smell of gold and iron mixed with flames.

I can't help but have some good feelings in my heart.This is very rare for dwarves.

"Did his behavior cause you any losses just now? I am willing to compensate him."

After running through the streets and alleys, and turning a few turns, I finally could not hear the rough voice of the dwarf.

Alger slowed down.

The mage he knew lived in the outskirts of the town, and a magic circle that distorted sight was set up around the mage tower to prevent strangers from disturbing them.

Of course, there are occasional unsuspecting people who accidentally break in, but this is very rare.

This mage's tower was built very majesticly. Even if it stood in the densely flowered herbal garden, the dark architectural style looked very stressful.

However...if it is not paired with an overly lively and enthusiastic tower spirit, it will probably be more in line with the mage's usual calm image.

"Good morning! Mr. Alger."

The middle-aged male voice is frustrating and full of emotion.A mass of black mist rose from the outer wall of the mage tower, slowly forming the image of a noble family butler, like a floating phantom, half connected to the wall.

"Are you looking for my master? He just finished deconstructing an eight-ring spell and is about to rest now. You also know that these mages have no sense of time when they start researching. My previous master was also like this... "

Alger looked up at the sky, because the flame bird and the dwarves had already delayed a lot of time.

"...Stop him! Even if he is asleep, he will scream, and he will say that it is urgent and life is at stake!"

"Okay!" Ta Ling cheerfully responded, and the figure made of black mist dissipated instantly. At the same time, the door of the mage tower opened to him.

The time and space in the mage tower are disordered, or in other words, they have been recalibrated.

So Alger entered through the gate on the first floor close to the ground, and directly arrived at the living area in the middle of the mage tower. He saw a man with stubble on his face and black eyes who seemed to have not slept all night, but had actually been working continuously for three days and three nights. Master Mage.

"Dana? Are you okay now?"

When they met each other, Alger was a little overwhelmed by his friend's abnormal behavior.You know, this noble mage has always attached great importance to his personal image, and even Alger rarely sees such a haggard appearance.

The mage thought for a while, and replied in a soft tone: "It can't be called good or bad, in short, he is still alive."

Alger: "Okay, since you still have breath... Hey, don't fall down!"

Is there really no problem with this? !

The author has something to say: briefly explain why the religious group, which sounds particularly religious, is both a fighter and a mage.

Because the Poetry of Truth was originally a secret society with very mixed components, and later because the ratio of priests and priests increased, and some changes in the external environment, it was converted into a religious order, but the inheritance of other professions was retained.

Not too important setting, mainly for the plot.Hope you guys enjoy watching it. (^_^)