The pine needles were surprisingly thick, and the foot was soft, as if stepping on the clouds. The forest of St. Valorland was deeper and darker than the forest of Eastman. There were strange trees everywhere, bushes and weeds split open spaces, and fungi and moss occupied the gaps. The air was humid and cold, filled with the smell of turpentine oil and fresh walnuts, and the dew was heavy on the spider web. Uriel stared at a shadow two yards away and signaled to York with the hilt of his sword.

"Green Elf?" Sita gestured.

Why is this kid so excited? "No, we're going there." He denied, "You go and see, York, isn't this your life?"

Sita closed her smile. "Oh, detective. Of course I know." He touched his forehead in annoyance, knowing that it was the color of his skin that made him hang out in this situation. For the forest race, Sita is also a strange enemy, and no one can attract more attention than him.

The leaves were slightly disturbed, as if they were blown by the wind. Ulier watched the orange-faced mercenary emerge from the shadow with a hand, his eyes opened in his palm, and he looked around. This scene was not new, but he was still surprised. Although elemental life can become elemental states, it is not so flexible. Doctor Cleia explained to them how to shape elements themselves, but Sauron insisted that it was related to elemental tides and kept suggesting that he turned around. For some consideration, the apprentice asked York to be responsible for the exploration of the team's road and the determination of direction, even if the night elves were the best candidate for reconnaissance.

At this moment, Dalton was guarding him. The bard and the doctor were gone. To be precise, the shadows were gone. When Uriel looked down at the shadow of the tree, he could tell the long feathers on the hat on the Saudis' head. Not to mention the small oil rubber human race, even the birds flying through the sky could detect something strange. The feathers trembled continuously, but Dalton didn't see it at all.

He had to turn his head and remind: "Tell Saudi Arabia to take off his hat, Dalton?"

The night elves woke up like a dream and reached out to grab the shadow. Obviously he didn't wake up much. Uriel quickly stopped him before he grabbed the soil. "Hat." The apprentice raised his voice, the shadow shook, and the feathers that poked out the tree trunk disappeared.

"Can you talk?" Dalton asked slowly.

“No problem in the shadow.”

"Then York?"

"You have to give him some atmosphere to keep your guard up."

The night elves were silent for a moment, clearly aware of their mistakes. "Are we playing games?" he muttered, "No need to reconnaissance, you can hide it from the forest's eyes."

"Game? York is not a newbie, but here is Saint Valorand, I'm just making sure it's safe. In fact, he did a great job and you can't even hear me calling you." Urial blamed.

"Well, I didn't expect you to make a sudden sound and change the rules of the game."

"You are distracted, Dalton. Is it Deweet? Or the Gulf War..."

"No, no, no. For your Gaia's sake, Uriel, stop mentioning it. Don't talk about Tinnudal, that's nothing to say. I know, you have the patience to pay attention to everyone's inner thoughts now, but it's not necessary for me."

This is the truth. "Sorry. Curiosity can hurt others, but I always don't have a memory."

"Not that, it's necessary to understand others, especially those who go deep into the dangerous places. I'm thinking about your magic."

"Ah?" It was really unexpected. "You mean, the magic of shadow?"

"Have you learned the magic of elemental use? Or is your profession with elemental-related branches?"

"No." Uriel did not intend to hide it, "This is the effect of my profession magic. It is considered to be the category of magic...but not all. I can use it to use magic in other professions with limited restrictions."

“There are restrictions?”

"Depending on mysticality and magic." He silently recited the mysterious word of nature, and the small oil rubber humans crawled out of an acorn that fell to the ground. "I have to touch the entity of magic to reappear by spell. On the Grey Winged Bird Island, you pulled me into the shadow." He paused, "As for natural magic... Roma and I met a friendly forest believer in Eastman's Glimmer Forest, who received us and gave us help."

Dalton was silent for a moment. "She was so passionate."

Uriel frowned, "What?"

"I'm thinking, maybe you really don't need help from others, as long as we show you magical words. One person is enough to reach Moniontoros, and one person is enough to escort Saudi and Claya."

One person? You insist on walking with each other. "This is not the same thing." The apprentice relaxed the frowns on his brows, "I am just one person, two hands, a sword, and a pair of eyes."

"You're right." Dalton turned his head away. He was shaking, just like when I was in Marantino. Ulier knew very well that making a decision was not a moment. People would always spend several times measuring gains and losses, especially after making a decision. Unselected things are always more attractive than what they already have. Dalton shook his shadow and responded to York's signal. "We can go, right?"

"Yes." Who is right and who is wrong? For Ulier, this doesn't matter. Whenever you make up your mind, it's a promise. The Proverbs Knight will not break the promise.

A large part of the travel time is spent on opening up the road, and only magic can be reduced a little. Uriel shuttles between shadows, landing from the tip of the leaf to the fierce tree roots. Fortunately, the darkness does not feel bumpy, otherwise the poet should have spitted it out long ago. The air is humid and stuffy, and the skin is itchy. He cannot imagine how people will survive for a long time in this environment.

Dalton carefully wiped his curse sword, as if blood would corrode steel. Sitayork was dealing with prey. Ulier watched the mercenaries skillfully peel off the animal's fur, took out the internal organs and a few broken bones, and then stuffed herbs and chestnuts into it. Witnessing the pool of blood under the fur, the oil rubber little human screamed and reached out to cover his eyes.

"I can't light the fire." A wisp of smoke rose and Sita blew it away. "Can't fire be created in the shadow?"

"Of course it's useless to make fire with elements! Here are shadows, only dark elements... try flint?"

Uriel knew the result before they started. "No, there is no air here."

"No air? Can humans hold their breath for so long?"

"The Shadow Attack is not to manipulate shadows, but to change our own state." Ulier told him. But as its mystery increases, the Shadow Attack becomes the "Legion of Lights", and the elemental enables the control of shadow creatures. "Don't you, York. Please barbecue with your body temperature, Mr. Saudi said he likes 80% mature."

"I think he wants to find something for Claya."

...

"There are twelve miles." Dalton wanted to use the curse sword to point the map, but suddenly remembered the newly built weapon material that was extraordinary, so he hurriedly stopped. "At the current speed, you can walk out of the forest in about five hours. Can you still hold on?"

The apprentice seemed to be relaxed. "No problem."

"This is unreasonable. The magic of the high ring is not infinite, we can take shifts."

"It's really unreasonable, but that's the mysterious characteristic." The apprentice stood up, "Don't worry about me, once I can't hold on, Sauron will jump out to warn." He uttered, grabbed the ring and wrestled, and finally took it off his finger. "Like it." He also distanced them, but left the map to Dalton.

Perhaps it was the credit of the mysterious items, Chloita certainly would not treat their only messenger unfairly. In Eastman, Dalton had never seen a mysterious item that could replenish magic, but it did not mean it did not exist. Every mysterious item in Tinudal is a treasure, let alone such a continuation item. The foundation of the mysterious fulcrum is far above ordinary mysterious creatures.

This is true for Chloita, and the Silence School will not be far from being. They have seen the Holy Glory Council, one of the seven fulcrums. In contrast, Eastman is just a remote and backward mountain village. The Temple of Ashes may be powerful, but the underground world is barren and dark. The Great Saint planned to counterattack the ground, but the slogan was shouting until Dalton left Tinudal. The same plan as the underground legion, he felt that they had little hope for this trip. Perhaps it would be better to let Uriel go to Moniontoros alone, and Soren Gesen was wasting his efforts. When we arrived at the Church of Gaia, we would probably consider how to escape.

He thought about the way out with great anxiety, and did not notice that York quietly walked to his side. When he came to his senses, Sita had already sat down. "Look, what are you doing?" he said softly.

Dalton looked up and saw Uriel staring at a string of hanging yellow flowers. The stems and leaves of the plant covered with petals penetrated deep into the lush canopy, with roots tangled and firmly clung to the cracked bark. The tower messenger stared at the shaking stamens, looking confused and confused.

He thought he knew the reason. "He was talking to our guide."

"That acorn?"

"It's the little human race of oil rubber. Uriel knows that little thing." I hope it won't bring us into the Green Elf's trap for the sake of the tower. "We were avoiding them before."

Sita raised his eyebrows. "To be honest, Zoer, aren't we really coming to the door?"

"Uriel doesn't think it's not."

"What about you?"

"I have something to say, York, I'm not interested in going around in circles with others in conversation." Besides, this guy's skill in finding words is really clumsy.

“Can we beat Gaia’s Church?”

It turned out that the door was given. Dalton shook his head, "Didn't you know it long ago?"

"But the church committed sins and they turned against the path of integrity."

"So what?" Dalton didn't understand.

"Evil will eventually be revenge. This is what Lucia tells us, not Gaia, but He will bless us," Sita whispered. The child's eyes were full of hope, and Dalton discovered that perhaps this was why Uriel asked him for help. "This is the important task that the goddess entrusted to us."

The gods have passed away, even though they were the masters of the earth and the creators of order and morality, people have now regarded these as shackles, completely got rid of them, and despised them. The Goddess's responsibilities sound like the propaganda slogans of those missionaries in the Glorious Council. Heather only left a stone tablet in Saint Valorand. Dalton had long since lost his faith in the gods. If they really existed and could still show miracles, they would probably belong to the god of war Noctus. After all, war never stopped at any time.

Although Sita York has lived for more than three hundred years, in Dalton's eyes, he has been in the Shrine Pool for about three hundred years, and the time he has arrived at Eastman is only a fraction. Judging from human experience of time, he should be a qualified adventurer. However, the facts are self-evident.

But there is no need to smite the child's faith. "It may be more than one goddess, because Uriel said this too. Gaia should not stand by and watch, we are clearing the door for Him."

"What did I say?" The tower messenger stepped a few steps across the shadows and returned to them. He looked too tired, as if he had just experienced a arduous Gulf War. As expected, he did not bring good news from his guide. "We have to take a detour."

Before Dalton and York said anything, a piece of acorn flew towards Uriel's forehead with a whistle. He was calm and caught it. Looking at its reaction, the night elves suddenly realized that the bad news actually had nothing to do with the guide.

"What's going on?" Sita blurted out.

“There is a lake ahead.”

"A lake. So, you mean there is no shadow in this lake?"

"Stop pretending." Ulier rolled his eyes, "It's not a problem with shadows... there are mysterious creatures in it, and there are a lot of them."

"It's a water fairy, right?" Dalton said, "Then we should really take a detour."

He thought York would either object or ask questions, but he didn't expect Sita to be quite honest. "That's it." The orange-faced man said without hesitation, "I'll inform Saudi Arabia and Kleia." The tower messenger raised his hand and sank into the shadow.

The little oil rubber human race screamed against it. Its voice was light and thin, as if two leaves were rubbing. Dalton had hardly heard it speak much before - this little thing was hiding from everyone, even Uriel, unless the latter used magic commands - Drown would have no way of knowing the reason for its violent protest.

When Uriel showed his unchangeable will, even Sauron had to defeat him before his determination. The oil-elastic little human race became a pendant that yelled endlessly on his shoulders, and his voice blocked the shadows.

Until Dalton approached. "How long does it take to detour?" he asked.

"Half an hour."

"I mean, leave the Glimmer Forest."

The tower messenger gritted his teeth, and the muscles on his face were tense. Although it was only a moment, it was keenly captured by Dalton. "Seven hours."

"You're fine, right?"

"No, no. Let's go."

Dalton took the curse sword back into the scabbard. No need for others to worry about it. Zoer thought, "Ring Soren was monitoring him anytime and anywhere, day and night, and wanted to go into a dream to see if he had a nightmare. He was the apprentice of the White Messenger, the envoy of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and a mysterious knight with a high ring. Even if these didn't work, Uriel had his fate to protect him. And to be honest, if those were useless, what could I do?

York waved: "I was dazed again, Drow?"

"You're coming right." Dalton came to his senses, "Uriel wants you to scout the new route changed?"

"Yes, what?"

"No need." He urged, "You stay nearby to watch, York. You need you even more here. Come quickly!"
Chapter completed!