Under the moonlight, the many beautiful flowers in the garden looked a bit hazy.
Lucien and Rhine were walking through the flowers side by side, both of them remaining silent.
A while later, Lucien could not hold himself back anymore, "Can you tell me where the headquarter of the Congress of Magic is now, Mr. Rhine?"
Rhine looked at Lucien and smiled, "What do you think? Take a guess."
"I thought about it." Lucien nodded, "I thought it was on the other side of the Dark Mountain Range, or at least deep in the mountains. After all, the Church failed to march further westward across the range. Does it make sense?"
"A good guess," Rhine grinned, "but if you go there, what you can find deep in the mountains will be a bunch of crazy and gloomy sorcerers and sorceresses who survived the violent suppression, or say, slaughter, done by the Church. People call them ‘ancient sorcerers’."
"Really? How come they live that long?" Lucien was a bit surprised.
