[Western Fantasy] The black-skinned elf also wants to hug the rich woman’s lap today

Opening the door, the adventurers in the hotel popped up like mushrooms after the rain. A group of housewives who had been living in the house for a long time must have heard the commotion outside and came out to inquire about the news.

The hotel lobby was in a commotion. The adventurers gathered together, speaking their common language with accents from all over the world, and having a heated discussion.

O'Brien looked around before finding Arnold buried in the crowd at the corner of the bar. He originally wanted to go directly to join Arnold, but when he looked at the high wall of people in front of him, he thought of something, frowned, and looked back.

Sylvia held her staff and leaned against the door frame. Her short black hair clung to her pale cheeks like paint on a canvas. It was unclear what her emotions were.

Indeed, this situation is too complex for a blind person. O'Brien sighed. Who said they are a team now, and the team should understand each other.

"Arnaud," he shouted. He waved his hand in that direction.

Fortunately, although Arnold was short, his senses were quite sensitive and he stumbled through the crowd to reach them.

"This is simply terrible." Arnold couldn't help complaining as soon as he saw O'Brien. "Everyone is talking about everything. The only accurate news is that the city lord has passed away."

Sylvia, who had been thinking quietly beside her, suddenly said: "Who is the new city lord?"

"Ah, here." Arnold touched his head, "There is an announcement outside, but I haven't had time to see it yet..."

"The new city lord is a witch!" A tall and thin man stood on the bar and shouted.

It caused a cry of exclamation from below. Everyone was surprised by this fact. Then there was a louder discussion.

"Hedge Witch Chris? I remember her name. She lives on the edge of the Wilderness, in the Trembling Forest near Gabu City. Who knows how she got related to our city lord?"

"Isn't the Hedge Witch a follower of the forest? Why did she enter the mortal world?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu I thought Old Will could last for a few hundred more years, but now he has lost his mind and found a witch as his successor..."

"Well, since the notice has been sent out, it means that the adviser group has accepted it."

The overly lively atmosphere is expected to continue for a while. Just now it was because of the death of the city lord, but now, the witch has pushed the discussion to another wave of enthusiasm.

When Ivan returned to the hotel from the mission with a bunch of fireworks fragments on his head, he saw three of his teammates - one immersed in his own world, one looking up to the sky with dead fish eyes, and another happily mingling with the group of adventurers nearby. He listened to them discussing gossip about witches.

"Hey, we haven't seen the hedge witch either. But aren't witches famous for their charming beauty?"

"Oh!" Arnold listened with interest.

"Will Old Will be fascinated too?"

"Oh!" Arnold's eyes widened.

Alvin touched Arnold's head and rubbed his fluffy hair into a mess. Digging their silly dwarf out of the crowd before the conversation got any more outrageous.

"It's like a carnival outside!" The leader plucked his hair and successfully pulled out shiny ribbons and confetti from his blond hair.

Fortunately, there were not many people in the corridor of the hotel, which made Alvin breathe a sigh of relief. He called Obulin and Sylvia, who were obviously worried, and the group of people entered the group leader's room.

"This mission." Ivan wanted to distribute the mission scroll to all members as usual, but when he caught a glimpse of Sylvia, he quickly retracted the hand holding the scroll and read it aloud.

"Hmm. So our first mission as the 'Glass Viper' demon hunting team is to go to the Trembling Forest to find the 'Mimetic Letter Flower'."

O'Brien quickly grasped the key point: "Why does the Demon Hunting Group also need to take over the mission of the Trembling Forest?"

It was Sylvia who answered him.

Sylvia's voice was soft and soft, but she did not deliberately sing her words as if she were singing an aria like some priests did. Her enunciation was particularly precise and clear: "Five days ago, an adventure group discovered a parasitic activity in the abyss in the east of the Trembling Forest. At that time, it was only thought that monsters from the wilderness wandered into the Shivering Forest, and the mission office quickly sent out a demon hunting team to clean up. But just yesterday, a team found three groups in different locations in the center of the forest. The bodies of the murdered adventurers.”

Her eyes looked forward blankly, but this did not mean that she knew nothing about the outside world: "Although there has been no official announcement yet, I speculate that the scope of the abyss has expanded outward again."

Silence filled the room.

Finally, it was Alvin who broke the silence.

"Whatever." He sighed and tried to liven up the atmosphere. "The expansion of the abyss is left to the Holy See of Light to consider. It's not the turn of little people like us to worry about it."

Arnold was still unhappy: "That's not certain. The Wilderness of the Woods was once a magnificent fertile soil, the homeland where dwarves have lived for generations. Who made the decision to abandon it? It wasn't the Holy See of Light... …”

O'Brien quickly bent over and covered Arnold's mouth with lingering fear. Thanking the Creator for giving the elves flexibility, and strongly condemning the Creator for cutting corners when creating the species and only giving dwarves half of their brains, in front of him was a trainee priest of the Holy See of Light who had finally been fooled. Arnold was simply dancing the Cha Cha in a minefield.

But the priest didn't look offended.

"I'm sorry for what happened to the dwarves." She lowered her eyes, pursed her lips tightly, and had a solemn expression. "But it is undeniable that the 'fertile soil' as a buffer zone has indeed brought nearly five hundred years to the mainland. As the Abyss expands, all species will remember the sacrifices made by the dwarves."

This answer is neither humble nor arrogant. O'Brien thought. He neither offended his future colleagues nor deliberately belittled his own beliefs. He was simply a model of the Holy Mother.

Arnold also realized that his words were a bit rushed. He spat out an apology.

In fact, he has never seen "fertile soil". When he was born, the dwarves had already moved away from their hometown and settled in the Weeping Stone Forest in the south of the continent. But the elders in the clan would still complain from time to time that moving to this inhospitable place was a conspiracy of the Holy See of Light.

But homesickness is rooted in every dwarf's heart. Even though the "fertile soil" is no longer there, even though the land that was transformed by the abyss into an extremely rugged land has been given a new name again - Wild Wood.

Ivan was worried about the team atmosphere and introduced the topic to the next chapter in the name of haha.

To be honest, there are a lot of reasons why Ivan can be the leader of the group. He is honest, humble, and united with the group, which is enough to say that he is right - although this is because he is the only designated sponsor dad in the "Glass Viper" group.

such as--

"Oblin, your horse is big enough. You can carry Miss Sylvia out of the city." Ivan made this decision quite casually.

O'Brien put on a mask of pain, but there was a physical wind mask on his face. After all, the leader could not interfere with his tangled and plaintive feelings.

Moreover, he borrowed money to buy this horse, and the creditor was none other than Alvin himself.

"Sorry to trouble you." Sylvia nodded slightly in his direction and smiled gently. Her short black hair brushed past her cheeks, and a small red mole was looming.

Who can resist a kind-hearted and fragile pastor lady. O'Brien turned his eyes away in embarrassment, but he couldn't help but break into a cold sweat at the thought of a woman clinging to his back.

Alvin was still talking loudly and making plans one by one. But O'Brien had no intention of listening any more. He was still immersed in his own world until all plans were discussed.

The dwarf used his lifelong skill to kick the elf on the butt: "What's wrong with you?"

O'Brien looked constipated: "I feel like I need to make some mental preparations to leave tomorrow..."

"What were you listening to just now!" Arnold shouted, jumped up and raised his hand and waved in front of O'Brien, "Hey! The leader just said that in order to save time, we will set off directly at noon today. !”

It’s over.

Alarm bells were ringing in O'Brien's ears.

There is no time to stack armor, so a true warrior can only go directly.

O'Bryn's big black horse is easily recognized in the hotel stables. It is large but extremely simple, without any decoration or auxiliary tools, which forms a sharp contrast with the white horse next to it. Alvin was willing to spend a lot of money to decorate his mount. He put a collar of metal and gems on the white horse. The saddle was woven by a desert snake girl, and then handed over to a dwarf craftsman who was good at seal carving to carve a shock-absorbing magic circle. It's soft enough that you won't feel any bumps when you sit on it.

Sylvia was already there when Obulin arrived. She was wearing the white priest's robe that he had worn when he first saw her, and the white crystal staff was fixed diagonally on her back with a bag. The priest stood next to the big black horse, slowly stroking the black horse's mane with one hand, but turned his head towards the white horse.

"Wife!" On the other side, Alvin and Baima's faces were touching each other hard, and they were moved to tears.

O'Brien was sure. He rolled his eyes when he saw this precious white horse with a mixed bloodline of jungle pegasus.

"Drive-drive-call!"

Arnold was wearing heavy black armor and was fully armed. A normal human-sized helmet covered his entire head. The armor made a "clang, clatter" sound with the bumps. The little gray donkey selected according to his size was thick and thick. Panting and overwhelmed.

He carried the black iron dagger, raised the sword and pointed eastward, shouting in a language he didn't know where he learned it from: "There are enemies on the other side of the forest, Tata, attack! Izmo, Tata, attack!"

I can't stand it anymore, a Hermes and an old man suffering from middle school disease. The team couldn't stay any longer.

O'Brien looked at what he thought was a normal person with little hope left.

Sylvia leaned against the black horse, and she didn't even notice that O'Brien came close to her eyes.

The pastor still lowered his eyebrows, but the corners of his mouth were curved. Perhaps because the midday sun was too intense, a faint rosy color appeared on her cheeks.

"Like a camel," she murmured, then laughed at her own thoughts.

Her mutterings were obscured by the noisy surroundings, and only O'Brien, who was close, heard her clearly. Looking in the direction she was facing, the white horse finally couldn't bear Alvin's harassment and shook its neck. The metal pendants around the horse collided with the gems, making a crisp sound. Like a camel with a bell in the desert, indeed.

This is actually quite funny. The old antique elf rarely understood the point of laughter.

He couldn't help but smile.