The most powerful wizard in the magic world

The secret order from the academy has shaken the hearts of every apprentice like thunder, making them feel an unprecedented sense of urgency. Gerlin curled up under a hidden rock, flipping through the yellowed notice in his hand. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes were sharp.

"Hey, man, what are you doing here?" Hank stood on tiptoe and approached quietly. The relaxed smile on his face gradually disappeared, replaced by a kind of hidden worry.

"Look at this order," Gerlin said in a low voice, biting his lip, "If you don't return to the academy within three months, you will be regarded as a traitor. Do you understand what this means?"

Hank shook his head vigorously, as if he didn't want to believe what was said. He pursed his lips tightly, and there seemed to be an unknown threat around him. "I told you that the outside world is not suitable for those of us who study magic. Why do we have to make such a difficult choice?"

"The world outside," Gerlin said sarcastically, "is a cold stage, as if reminding us that even magic apprentices cannot avoid the cruelty of reality. We need to come back, and I hope this is not our last mission." His eyes suddenly became firm, revealing a hint of unyielding determination.

"In that case, we have to act quickly." Hank's voice was trembling. After all, this meant that they had to complete the unfinished task within a limited time. He looked around, as if looking for some kind of exit, "But where should we go now?"

"Go to the valley," Gerlin waved his hand and pointed to the other side of the mountain. "That is our final goal. As long as we can find that ancient rune stone, we may be able to crack the secret in the secret treasure." His eyes flashed, as if he saw the dawn of victory.

The two walked along the dark path, the stones under their feet whispering softly in the breeze. Hank's heart was full of doubts. He always felt that there was an invisible pressure approaching them, as if time was accusing them of every hesitation.

At this moment, there was a rustling sound in the bushes ahead. The two subconsciously stopped and held their breath. Gerlin turned his head slightly and pointed the staff in his hand at the bushes, ready to respond to any possible danger at any time.

"Did you hear that?" Hank's voice was small and trembling, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously curved downwards.

"I heard it." Gerling's face turned pale. He slowly approached the bushes, secretly alert in his heart.

"Don't get too close! In case of any danger..." Hank's voice was interrupted and Gerling suddenly took a step back.

"Don't talk!" Gerlin ordered in a low voice, the staff in his hand flashing a faint light, as if responding to the tension in his heart.

The shaking of the bushes became more and more obvious, and then a thin figure jumped out from it. It was a man wearing ragged clothes covered with dirt and thorns, his eyes were full of fear and despair.

"Are you apprentices?" he asked breathlessly and stutteringly, as if testing something.

"Who are you?" Gerlin stared at him vigilantly, pointing at the staff, still not daring to relax.

"My name is Elliot, from Charles Village." He slumped to the ground, his face full of pleading, "Please, you must help me. Strange things have happened in the village, and everyone says it's the traitors of the academy who are causing it."

Hank and Garlin looked at each other, both of them hesitant. Time was running out, but the voice for help made them feel uneasy.

"We don't have time." Hank finally spoke, with a hint of helplessness and anxiety in his voice, "We have to return to the academy in three months and cannot interfere in your affairs."

Eliot wiped the sweat from his forehead and said anxiously: "No, this is not only my business, but also yours. You have been trained in the academy, and now you are the only one who can uncover the truth! If those traitors are not stopped, the whole village will fall into endless darkness!"

Garlin's heart wavered, as if an invisible force in his stomach pushed him forward. He glanced at Hank, saw his hesitation, and finally said, "Okay, we'll go and see and help you solve this problem. But time is limited, we have to hurry."

A trace of gratitude flashed across Elliot's face, and then he stood up suddenly and led Gerling and Hank towards the village. The desolate fields and sparse houses seemed to foreshadow an unknown disaster.

When they arrived at Charles Village, everything was so quiet that even the wind dared not easily penetrate the silence. The people in the village were all staying at home, looking dazed, as if they were waiting for something.

"We must find the village chief!" Elliot said anxiously, running towards a mottled wooden house, followed by Gerling and Hank.

"Damn it!" Hank muttered, feeling an invisible pressure. He knew they didn't have much time, but the mysterious village in front of him made him feel confused.

The village chief was an old man with white hair and a stern face, as if the years had left deep marks on his face. After listening to Elliot's description, his eyes trembled slightly, and he was silent for a moment, and finally spoke: "The traitors are our internal ghosts, and they are trying to use the power of darkness to rule this small village."

"Village chief, do you know where they are?" Gerlin asked anxiously, knowing that time waits for no one.

"The castle in the east," the village chief answered slowly, with a hint of helplessness in his tone, "has become a den of bandits. There are evil spells and magical tools hidden there. Only by finding them can we uncover the truth."

Garlin, Hank, and Elliot smiled at each other, with a hint of determination and hope, like warriors about to go to war. No matter how difficult the road ahead is, they know they must face it. Time is no longer a problem, and the flame of hope has been ignited in their hearts.

So, when the storm was about to come, the three of them embarked on the journey to the castle without fear, and secretly vowed in their hearts that no matter how difficult the return journey was, as long as there was light in their hearts, they would eventually find the way home.