Lord of the Silver Crow

Less than half a second after the female corpse conveyed that sentence in a strange way, Friesen flew over with a spear made of blood, crushing the corpse's head.

After waiting for half a minute, Friesen smashed the wall with a weapon made of blood and left the room.

Afterwards, without any accident, the three returned to the gentleman's club and the stronghold smoothly.

You can choose to stay here tonight.

Friesen, who returned to the prayer room after receiving Alenasia's treatment, looked at Yago, whose clothes were covered in silver blood, and sighed:

This Extraordinary is very dangerous, and I can't guarantee your safety. During this time, before I finish dealing with this Extraordinary, I will try my best to let them operate in groups of more than two people, and you will do the same.

There was a sense of exhaustion in his eyes that had recovered to pale green. Obviously, the battle to protect Yago and Alenasia took a lot of energy for him.

In a tone of emotion, he leaned back on the back of the white chair, turned his head sideways and said to Yago:

You'd better choose a path as soon as possible. We don't have extra manpower to protect you. Even if we have extra manpower, we will give priority to protecting Alenaxia. Do you understand?

clear.

The importance of a nanny is self-evident, and he would do the same if it were him.

But the problem is that he can't do that!

He has already entered the path of a gambler, and if he takes other potions, there is a high possibility that he will go crazy and commit suicide like his cheap father.

How to do?

Glancing at the scarred right arm and left wrist that had been healed under Alenasia's treatment, Yago sighed, and reached out to touch the pocket of the dress coat.

Taking out the silver-gray wallet, Yago took out a golden rose from it.

Looking at Jin Qiangwei, Yago turned to Friesen:

Captain, can you exchange 20 silver coins for me?

Although theoretically 1 Golden Rose is equal to 20 Silver Seas, it is hard to say whether it can be exchanged.

Friesen, who was looking up at the high ceiling of the prayer room, heard the words, raised his head backwards, looked at Yago, took a look at his wallet from his pocket, and shrugged regretfully:

Sorry, I only have paper money.

After speaking, he glanced around.

At this moment, the door of the prayer room was pushed open, and a middle-aged man with a beard and a young girl appeared in their vision.

His eyes lit up slightly, Friesen called the two of them over, and asked:

Sander! Fanella! Do you have Yincia on your body!

Sander, a middle-aged man with a beard, was also wearing plain clothes, but unlike most of the pastors of the Rose Church, who were all dark red, his teaching uniform was all black.

Moreover, a pale rose-shaped ornament was worn around the neck.

Yago looked at the other party, somehow feeling cold.

While he was looking at it, this Shandel turned his head suddenly:

Your inspiration is very good, but don't just get it on others.

The moment he made his voice, the cold feeling just now suddenly became stronger.

Sander, stop, he is a newcomer, a newcomer who has never even heard of inspiration and spiritual waves before joining.

Friesen stopped immediately, and emphasized how new Yago was.

Hearing Friesen's explanation, Shandel suddenly nodded:

Haven't even heard of inspiration and spiritual tide? A declining old aristocrat? It's really pitiful.

When he said the word poor, Yago also felt that the coldness that seemed to soak his whole body just now dissipated.

He is 'Gravekeeper' Shandel, Shandel Messgrind.

After Friesen turned to Yago for Shandel, he turned to introduce Yago to Shandel:

he is.

Diago Clauredo Fast, I know, he is the only old nobleman of this color.

Sandor interrupted Friesen's explanation, stared at Yago, took out a pair of black-rimmed glasses from the pouch around his waist, and said to Yago:

Young little baron, now, put this on.

The voice was tepid, without any emotion.

oh

Full of suspicion, Yago took the pair of black-rimmed glasses.

However, the moment he put on the glasses, he saw a strange sight.

In front of him was a phantom-like, gray mist, slightly silvery.

There was no fog around Shandel standing in front of him, the girl next to him, and Friesen sitting on his right.

See that piece of 'fog'? At this moment, Shandel said.

I see. Yago replied honestly.

Then let you see us. Friesen said with a smile.

That is, at the moment when his voice sounded, Yago saw that there was a faint green mist gushing out from Friesen's body, which was also somewhat vague, like a phantom mist, with a little blue mixed in it.

Mine is like this. Sander's voice also sounded.

Then, a pale mist gushed out.

Unlike Friesen's, the pale mist seemed tighter and clearer, showing outlines.

But I can't tell what kind of outline it is.

And me! And me! Don't forget me!

At this time, the girl beside Sander puffed her cheeks, and Yago saw a beautiful light red mist gushing out from her body.

The fog gushing out of this girl is similar to that of Friesen, and it seems a little blurry.

Inspiration is the senses of the soul. The extension of the soul is equivalent to your limbs. Inspiration is quite delicate and sensitive. It can perceive many things, but it is also very fragile while being sensitive.

Shandel spoke in a calm tone that seemed to be repeated many times:

However, if you reach out to someone else, then the other person 'responds'.

His specially emphasized response also made Yago realize that this response was obviously not a peaceful means.

Converging inspiration is very simple. It is to control it with consciousness, just like holding your breath, closing your eyes, and covering your ears.

The moment Sander made his voice, the pale mist poured into his body, as if it had never appeared before.

You can imagine, on your forehead

Sandor's right index finger and middle finger were attached to his forehead.

.There is one eye, and you need to close that eye.

Eyes on the forehead?

third eye? pineal gland?

With some doubts, Yago imagined that there was an eye on his forehead according to Shandel's method, and then tried to close the eye.

The moment he had this thought, the fog he saw through the black-rimmed glasses began to fade away.