The Northern Sword God
One Night After the Rain
The sun is getting brighter now. The sky looked blue with a hint of white clouds appearing to drift rapidly in the wind, so the air in the Infinite Desert was not too hot. This is what makes the audience of the Holy War in the Infinite Desert feel more at home to watch the Dragon Relic present itself to the Magus who won the holy war this season.
On the stage of the labyrinth arena..
Nevertary seems to be starting to fade a little.. Said.
"Our contract is done. Allow this heroic spirit to beg
My spirit grows weaker if it lingers in your master's world" a smile that never decorates his face, this time clearly visible on his thin curving lips, displayed on that tiny face
Sima Yong felt his heart was a little mashy. He had time to end his contract with the Assassin's heroic spirit. The war is over.
"I can't give you anything. But as an expression of my gratitude, will you accept this thing?" ask Sima Yong.
He gave two magic gloves - a complementary item for the fighters but this thing was specially used for magic power.
"The magic glove I made myself, although not very good because I did not learn specifically about how to distill the hehi item from the digalan/ fragment of five pieces of magic objects while still in the South first.
Although this is not as legendary as the famous Noble Phantasm entity, I hope it will help you, when you are called a witch to fight again..."
Sima Yong handed the two magic gloves towards the evertary figure who was starting to blur. The assassin stretched out his pale hand and took out the two magic objects. His face looks more radiant. His smile rarely became clearer. He was happy to be appreciated by his master.
"Old when I use this thing. I'm sure by then I'll remember the powerful wizard you are.
You are a Magus whose magic ability matches the heroic Spirit that the masters call to be servants" Nevertary's voice sounded laughing very loudly.
But his voice was still faint. Same with his appearance that faded from this mortal world.
When the breeze brought some dust grains over the desert, at that moment the figure of Nevertary the Assassin disappeared.
Along with the departure of Nevertary, now on the stage of the battle arena - the Sacred War of the Dragon Relic left Sima Yong a.
Lonely, there was no one but himself. If he were to ponder again, it felt like just a moment ago, the Magi and the top magicians were competing with his fighting over the Dragon Relic.
Sima Yong then reached out his hand into the air and miraculously, suddenly one object as big as an adult arm and its length was roughly two jengkal had been in his hand.
"Relikui Dragon !" the audience sounds like a rumble.
Coinciding when he held onto that Dragon Relic, the labyrinth arena also faded. As for the physical figure Sima Yong himselfun in fact follow dimmed - faded and lost. The wind rustled desolately carrying dust grains in the Endless Desert.
Sima Yong knew it had come to a realization when he was standing on the edge of the crossing lake alone - teleportation.
There was no one around the crossing lake at that time, not even the magicians who owned the boat and boat that always crossed people into the desert land, not one person could see.
"Perhaps everything is still glued to the arena of the show of the Endless Desert" he murmured
And in one first breath, despite not being given any cues, Sima Yong knew for sure the one thing he had to do .. "Run !"
Running is the best way after winning the heavenly bodies the grace of the gods like this dragon relic. Moreover, in his hands were two Noble Phantasms, a teleportation magic wand and the Eyes of the vampire Queen.
"A lot of people are willing to die to get these things" Sima Yong said.
Sima Yong had experienced winning the serpua relics in the northern Negri Ancient City at that time. Brightly enough with the position of the supplies in his ring that resembled this walking treasure warehouse, would awaken the evil intentions of many people and Noble Phatasm hunters. Getting out of the way is the safest best way for now.
His body was immediately surrounded by tornado wind, which then brought him disappeared in one blink of an eye. The young man's abilities are getting more and more terrifying.
He looked like a heavenly being stepping with the wind - a wind-bending holy man, and thought he was a god when one looked up at the sky.
******
Meanwhile, when Sima Yong's shadow disappeared simultaneously following the extinction of the Labyrinth arena in the Infinite Desert, the atmosphere became stirred.
"How could he disappear like that?"
"Ah.. Didn't he bag the Teleportation magic wand? It was a rare Noble Phantasm that could make him teleport in the blink of an eye"
A storm of discussion rang out among the audience when they saw the young Holy War victor disappear from the arena. They regretted the Magus who left without saying goodbye, while many were eager to have a conversation, just giving a speech or offering cooperation or joining their Sacred Organization.
In the midst of the boisterous voices of the audience of sorcerers who dispersed instantly and returned to their lands - North, South, West and East, respectively,
At that time secretly many figures of witches and hunters of precious objects Artifacts and Relikui disappeared. The mode that can be guessed is that they intend to hunt down the young winner of the holy war by pocketing sacred objects in the storage ring of the young man.
******
The sparkling and modern West Bank city, began to become deserted when entering the midnight hours. At that time the atmosphere was still in the autumn weather where the cool breeze from the north blew cold.
The night had been very late when the crowd had been in bed, enjoying his intimate blanket and a warm bed. However, in one hallway of silence - which is increasingly quiet because the time has been midnight, there are still human activities.
There was a patao seller who opened his small shop with a simple blacu cloth walled with several bench equipment and a makeshift table. His name was Heng yeye, so the owner of the papa tent was commonly called.
The lantern lights in the simple stall were so dim, accompanied by a puff of small black smoke that slightly smelled, as if giving a sign to the night warriors to stop by the simple tent, just buy a papa trade to warm the stomach - avoid midnight hunger pangs.
The handsome youngster, dressed in all-grey clothes, from a hairband, a long tunic wrapped around a satin belt - which was re-covered in a gray robe and gray shoes - was all in matching color, he said, seen approaching the steamed bakery salesman.
"Give me five steamed buns without filling. The one I'm going to eat here, the four I hope is wrapped up in" said the young man. He shifted one bench and sat there, waiting for his order to be served by the seller.
Just now a steamed papao dish was served on the young man's desk, all the way from the north hall - the dark direction of the night covered in a cold dark fog, appeared one half-old woman.
The woman had a unique appearance with half-white hair, in high konde and up, accompanied by a striking golden skewer hanging swaying.
The clothes that the woman was wearing were large robes of the best materials, which formed pieces of clothes like a religious expert from the head of a certain order organization.
The woman walked neither fast nor slow, but one thing that made people interested in seeing her was, her footsteps seemed not to touch the ground. The young man did not look away, but his ears seemed to twitch.
"Good" he murmured slowly.
As for the stick in the hand of the old need was on tap-tap on the streets with a rhythm that harmonized his steps. "tuk - tuk - tuk" sounds strange and mystical.
Nonchalantly, the woman said to..
"Pathao sellers... Please serve your parapao plate. I want a hot-hot papao, whose contents are meat-abandoned. There's no need to be hacked, I'm going to eat everything here" he dragged another empty bench, then sat down in a nonchalant style.
When the steamed baker was busy with a brazier and a fire to heat up the patao, the old woman made a sound..
"It was a cold night, wasn't it? Eating steamed bread at night in such cold weather is indeed very suitable for night fighters..
Did you just come from the Land of Sheath?" ask the old woman.
Even though she asked such a question, the old woman did not look at anyone - her eyes were closed like a middle man.
The gray-clothed young man turned to the left and to the right. No one but him and the woman were customers at the steamed bun.
"Are you asking me?" back to asking the young man. His mouth continued to chew on the large steamed bread that was still hot to smoke.
With her eyes closed, the woman said..
"Only the two of us are in this papao tent. That means that question is for you"
By showing a similar mimic to a surprised person, the young man said..
"Oh.. But I don't understand what your question means' his answer was brief.
Although the woman's eyes were closed, her forehead showed a small movement, shrinking a sign she was dissatisfied with the young man's answer.
"Magic...! But I smell a magic scent on your body" silent for a moment.. The woman put a magic spell in her voice, trying to break through the young man's mind. Fail ! He's strong enough ! Think old woman.
"Did you bring a precious thing that Magi seek? Noble PHantasm for example.." now the woman opened her eyes. He looked at the young man sharply.
Silence again, even now gripping !. The cold air suddenly turned like it was going to freeze. The air of battle quickly overflowed, making the air become even more frozen. The steamed baker saw a bad shake. His hands became trembling fanning the embers of the fire in the furnace where the bread heater was steamed.
The young man who was chewing the steamed bread stopped with his chewing activity. His eyes turned into a thrusting - sparkling like an unexpected flickering star.
Three blinks passed by and suddenly a voice broke the frozen silence,
"Ah.. Apparently this is where the night warriors gather"
From the corner of the other hallway, one shadow appeared with a majestic-looking appearance. It was a difficult man at his age. His face looked young, but his appearance was like someone who had experienced the bitter tingling of this worldly life. "He must be at least 100 years old" the young man's inner self.
The man's golden hair looks neatly combed back, with a silver ornament resembling a small crown on two sides of his hair. The clothes are the best woven fabric ever, mossy green with elaborate pieces of clothing that were made specifically for the nobility.
On the back of the great man was a long box of special copper holding a long weapon, which could easily be seen if it was an arrow.
"Dark Elf" the old woman sighed softly..
*Connected*
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