Lysatos stepped out of the half-dimensional gate and with a flap of his wings burrowed into the cloud-filled airspace of the Tyrian forest.
So far, everything has gone well with the plan. The unicorn tore the heart of the elves' defense, weapons open trade channels. In just half a month, the Garland Nord royal family and the dragons are getting tighter and tighter, and tensions with the pantheon are creeping up.
It's time to slow down, the elves are ordained ten times longer than humans, and the pace of life is naturally slow to a tenth. Too drastic an internal change could be botched.
Lysatos lowered his altitude to avoid a thick cloud of rain; fire-attributed creatures don't like humid air. A glance down, the gray-green figures of elven rangers flashed through the forest.
They were sentries keeping an eye on the dragon, but this would be the task of escorting the torch mage to the green capital, mainly to avoid the temple staff doing something "irrational" on the way there and back.
When he learned that Opharsis invited himself, Lysatos was a little surprised, the high priest or the one standing behind him, more decisive than he expected. But the dragon gladly went, he also needed the time to learn more about the power of the Lord of Rituals, exactly why a true god did not grant the priest divine magic. The difference between not being able to and not being able to would have a major impact on Lysatos' plans.
As he approached the Green Capital, he saw the invocation procession.
The royal bailiff waited calmly, bearing an important responsibility. In his opinion, it was ridiculous to welcome a beast with such a big show, and to be polite about it. I am a noble Tia, said the arrogant elf to himself, and no beast, no matter how vicious, can make me lose my manners.
Suddenly, Lysatos hid the daylight, and the wind from the dragon's wings blew the banner. The golden dragon landed with a bang.
The elf opened his mouth wide, his knees trembled involuntarily, but he looked straight at the presence that required ninety degrees to look up, the previous bravado are hidden into the ground of shame. It is important to know that the only people who have really come into contact with Lysatos are Drusillia and Ramesilai.
The bailiff said loudly and stiffly: "Welcome Torch Mage, I am the official sent by the royal family to lead you, I represent Tia ..."
Lysatos swept a circle, awe-inspiring eyes caused a burst of unease and panic. These elves, ah, the dragon smiled darkly, decision-making, although decisive, but the murderous plan is too crude and crude.
Lysatos waved his hand and interrupted the long welcome speech of the elf who called himself a "royal official". "Lead the way."
The bailiff choked, had he been exposed? Cold sweat dripped down his forehead, no matter how much mental preparation he had done beforehand, the pressure of facing the dragon in person was unimaginable.
"Okay, okay. Please go this way, the banquet is on the other side of the Green Capital, so we won't go through the gates of Shattered Star Lake. His Majesty and the princess have been waiting for a long time."
Chiron stepped to follow, he was now very curious what kind of traps could be laid by a group of priests who couldn't even cast [Heal Micro Wounds]. I hope it's not something like a big pit crossbow that will make the dragon laugh.
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"It's gone? A dragon half the height of the royal watchtower and you're telling me it's gone!"
Drusillia completely dropped her ladylike manners and snarled at the ranger who was staring at her. In order to prevent the assassination of the temple, the jungle between the half-dimensional gate and the green capital was patrolled by rangers every 5 sari, and the dishes and food used by the dragon were checked repeatedly to ensure that there was no poison. But accidents still happen.
"The last time we saw the Torch Mage was with the Bailiff, and then he disappeared."
The princess froze, the bailiff had indeed been sent by the royal family, but he would have returned this time, and he was in the wrong place to draw the guest.
"Traitor ..." Drusilla gritted her teeth, it was unexpected that the pantheon had such deep penetration. She sharply untied her gorgeous heavy gown and told her men, "Torch Mage is not a flying squirrel, and a target that can hide this big would only be on the west side of the Green Capital, the Temple's own grounds, the location where the Divine Nativity ceremony was held. Report back to my father immediately."
The Ranger was anxious: "Your Highness! Almost all the guards of the temple are there, you can't go by yourself!"
Drusilla flipped out her own shortbow, which had never been stained with the blood of living beings. "Don't worry, the pantheon won't do it to me directly, that's the beginning of a schism."
Half an hour later, Drusillia and the 100 Rangers under her arrived at the temple's possessions. Strangely enough there were no guards on the outer perimeter, and they entered straight away. What they saw was the magnificent altar of the Lord of Rituals, with a high priest standing under each of the 12 white jade pillars engraved with hymns, and under the highest pillar, the High Priest of Orpheus kneeling reverently, ignoring the murderous princess.
What is the situation? There were only a handful of priests and guards in front of the altar, the rest of the faithful stood in a line, holding the divine emblem with their backs to the princess, and from afar they could be seen forming a large circle, the elves in front of them were just a corner of the circle. Intuition told Druhiria the target was inside this circle.
"Get out of the way!"
"The ritual of the supreme being is in progress, to step even one step into the forbidden place is an insult and blasphemy to our Lord, and the war will begin as a result."
Drusilla's chest rose and fell violently, anger not because the pantheon used the same reasoning as herself. Rather, they were doing all they could to stifle the future of the elves on one side, and shamelessly holding the royal family hostage with the future on the other. The princess reckoned that rushing straight in ... wouldn't work, the fanatical spirit of these gods and goddesses wouldn't worry about civil war I'm afraid, and would surely draw their swords and fight back. Tia is already vulnerable enough, a split fight can destroy everything.
"Spread out to scout, with such a large area, there might be a slip-up." Drusillia impatient, even if the Elven King sent all the protector rangers the situation will not change. Once again, she can only pray that Lysatos can come out unharmed, this kind of hope on others really bad feeling.
Time rewind half an hour, full of tangled plotter lead the way, the victim is leisurely observing the scenery, occasionally coughing, and then watch the bailiff like a rabbit jumped up by electric shock, really funny.
After coughing twice, the consul had enough cold sweat on his body to take a bath. He had thought that a heroic sacrifice for the faith was as easy as the poem depicted, but the process before the heroic was really torturous. That's when the dragon suddenly stopped walking and he took another bath.
"Torch Mage?" The bailiff asked in a trembling voice.
Lysatos focused on the sight before him and ignored him. All the elves, including the priests could not see anything special, but constant [secret vision] of the dragon's eyes, there is a huge aura boundary field in front of them, in the shape of a bowl enveloping the temple belongings. This kind of aura boundary field is generally by the believers in the altar for large-scale prayer rituals, the majestic power of faith to trigger the resonance of the gods, the temporary formation. The effect is similar to a magic maze lock, which can form specific area effects, such as expulsion of undead creatures, medical bonuses and so on. But the duration is only a few hours.
The Deacon was already near frantic, the first murderous action in his life was more daunting than he had imagined. He could not see the aura, but knew that the dragon stopped outside the dividing line drawn by the holy relic and the divine emblem. Lysatos only had to take one more step forward, his task would be complete, and then get rid of this horrible beast.
Lysatos stretched out his front claws, the bailiff was overjoyed, Lysatos suddenly withdrew his front claws, the bailiff sweated. Then he stretched out again, then retracted, as in two times, the bailiff collapsed and found the dragon playing with him.
Lysatos, in a moment of playfulness, looked down and asked, "What would you do if I flapped my wings and flew away right now?"
The bailiff was in tears, so tired of living.
Oh two laughs, entertainment time is over, back to the mage's calm thinking mode. Entering certainly has its risks, but the trap is also an opportunity, the priests of the Lord of Rituals do not use divine power, then this may be the only opportunity to gain insight into the nature of the divinity of Nieron. Weighing the pros and cons, and then checking the protective spells on his body and the equipment in his sublime pouch, Lysatos took a step in.
At the same time, Ophasis, who was meditating with his eyes closed in the distance, suddenly shouted: "Praise be to you! The guardian of the elves, the standard bearer of the nobility, the defender of tradition, the teacher of etiquette. Praise be to You! All-holy, all-mighty Nieron!"
"All holy and all-seeing Nieron!" Hundreds of priests and more temple guards boomed in response, and eleven high priests stood under the risers and began to pray with movements exactly the same as those of the High Priest, twelve voices converging into one. The other elves walked toward the predetermined location and surrounded the Aura Boundary Domain.
Inside the realm, Lysatos sensed the spiritual light bursting up, and if anything, the prayers spread everywhere. The perimeter of the realm had been closed by invisible holy power.
[Dancing Light Art
The ball of light flickered abnormally on the dragon claw, like a flame with the lamp oil drawn away, struggled twice and went out.
So that was it, an artificially constructed dead magic zone. As the deity in charge of rituals within the forest of Tyria, the elves exercise rituals plus rituals that can greatly strengthen the power of Nieron, so this realm is more powerful than one would think. Within the realm of aura, Lysatos and the connection of energy are all disconnected, spells, divine magic, spell-like spells are suppressed, the sublime pouch can not take anything, and even the dragon breath can not work.
A small amount of information can be deduced from this, Saraph has no magic network and the concept of magic is vague. Nieron can make dead magic area, indicating that He is not a dirtbag deity whose eyes are limited to a small realm.
The real enemy was still inside, and Lysatos continued deeper.
The chief priest looked at the reflection in the water, the left side is still pious elves, the right side is the ugly demon, with sharp teeth and horns. The pitch-colored horns spread from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, looking like two different creatures cut in half each and put together. His right hand was twice as large as his left, with spikes all over its surface. Clasping his hands together, the chief priest prayed.
When he first got this appearance, he abhorred it. But now he was deeply ashamed of his abhorrence, which was Nieron's discipline and inspiration. Like the hideous scars of a warrior, the chief priest believed that if he followed the path of rituals, the scars would be replaced by the medals of glory.
A seemingly calm exterior hides a fierce desire for self-giving, so when he saw the dragon, without any nonsense, the battle began.