Vincent slowly made his way out of the tower while Mark began the hard work of climbing

the steps. Limited by his height, the steps of the ice tower were almost from his feet to his

knees. He struggled to lift his legs, holding on to the handrail next to the stairs, to climb the

hard way up.

Every hundred steps, he took a packet of dry food from his knapsack and placed it on the

side of the steps as a sign. Since the steps spiral upward, the dwarf could tell where he stood

by the number of the two if he stood at the top and looked down.

So, although he walked slowly, he went much faster than Hardy, who was often "forgetful"

because he was so excited.

"Nine hundred ninety-eight, whew... And finally nine hundred and ninety-nine!" Mark wiped

the sweat from his head. Although this ice tower is covered with hard, thick ice and crystal

clear everywhere, it is actually not cold at all. All the ice and snow has a chill effect only when

touched by the hand, and if not touched by the hand, it gives the illusion that the ice is

nothing more than a very clever imitation of painting or sculpture. The dwarf was panting out

of breath after his long climb.

Mark put his water bottle on the first thousand steps and pushed against the wall with his

hands in the way Vincent had taught him. Before he could push him hard, Mark felt a whirl

and fell forward with a thump.

At the same time, "swish" a series of torches lit up all around him, clearing away the darkness

around the dwarf.

Rubbing his broken nose, Mark, fighting the soreness around his eyes, slowly got up and

surveyed the room.

It was not a big room, only ten meters square. The whole room was empty. There was nothing

on the walls around it. It was a far cry from what Mark had imagined the room to be -- a

huge display of walls and amazing gadgets -- that's what Mark had grown up thinking a

treasure room should look like. There was only a wooden chair with a very high back and

arms, a huge iron chest that looked very bulky, and a skeleton shelf that had been dried and

decomposed until it was nothing but bones.

Mark went up and looked at the skeleton with his head tilted on one side -- it was impossible

to tell when the skeleton had died because it was so thoroughly decomposed -- so

thoroughly that it could be described as a clean corpse.

The skeleton was sitting in its chair, leaning forward slightly, his right hand reaching towards

the box in front of him. But his movement was frozen in the middle, and his fingers came

within inches of the tin.

Mark didn't dare to touch the box for fear that he might be in any danger. So he took out the

magnifying glass his uncle had made for him from his backpack and looked at it carefully.

"Ouch! What a fall..." Hardy's voice came from behind Mark, making the dwarf break out in a

cold sweat. His heart was pounding out of his throat for a split second.

"Hardy, will you not frighten me..." Mark set up the magnifying glass which he had just

dropped on the floor from fright. "It didn't break..."

"Wow, it's funny how you and I came into the same room on the stairs at both ends of the

tower, huh? Magic is such a mysterious thing." Hardy got up from the ground and walked

quickly to the dwarf. He looked curiously at the skull on the chair and at the trunk in front of

him.

"It's really empty here, I don't know if those two angels tricked us." But what's in this box? '

Hardy reached out his hand and touched the tin box. So fast Mark didn't have time to stop

him. Eg. There was a creak and the box was opened.

'Oh ~~~~ no! "Hardy let out a shriek.

For he had been wishing he had the right weapon, but the chest was, it was empty.

Mark sat down on the ground in shock. Hardy had taken too many risks. If the chest had been

booby-trapped, Hardy would have ended up like the skeleton. But his fright turned to ecstasy,

and he sprang up from the ground, shaking Hardy's arms.

"Hardy, Hardy! Look around you, stop looking at the box!" "Cried the dwarf.

Hardy looked up, his eyes so wide that they seemed to fall out of their sockets. She opened

her wide mouth, but for a long time she could not speak.

The four walls, which had been clean and empty, were now filled with several large display

shelves on which various objects were arranged. On the first wall, jewel-encrusted crowns and

goblets embroidered with gold wire, from exquisite antique paintings to beautiful statues,

and even more than half the shelves are directly filled with gold coins and precious stones,

objects full of art and great value fill the first display case.

But Hardy's eyes had sunk so deep into the second cabinet that they could not get them out.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

On this shelf were piled weapons of every kind: swords, hatchets, hard spears; Daggers,

daggers, darts; Long bow, short bow, crossbow you name it. There are even rare objects like

meteor mace and barb whips lying on the shelves.

A third display case is filled with armor, large and small. From the carved patterns representing

glory, it can be seen that the original owners of these armor were all powerful heroes, and

the monsters they destroyed could easily conquer a country. From heavy full-body armor to

light chainmail, the highest skills of men, elves and dwarves were brought together here. At

the bottom of the container, countless shields were piled on top of one another, but any

craftsman of any race would be shocked by the value of these random places.

Mark, on the other hand, was fascinated by the collection on the last wall, where all sorts of

"clutter" had been piled up. It's clutter because it's impossible to sort them out: snuff bottles,

small mirrors, books and tools, and all kinds of bottles and tins and bags, all scattered all over

the wall. Mark now wished he had ten hands and twenty eyes to touch and see for himself

the dazzling array of things.

"That's exactly how it should be!" Mark runs to the fourth shelf.

"Developed …………" Hardy exhaled softly, rubbing it with a warhammer in his hand.

Vincent, on the other hand, walked slowly down the frozen aisle, turning the angel's badge

over and over in his hand. Above the badge is a golden sun symbol and a shield shining with

silver light. Vincent had seen this design before -- it was the symbol of honor for the Holy

Fighting Corps under the command of the temple of Greafury, the god of Light. It is not to

be used as a token for the priests or knights of the temple, but all the priests of the temple of

Greafury will see this emblem and give it the highest respect and support.

"It is a good thing," said the priest. Vincent hung it around his neck, "From now on, wherever

you go, you can go to the Temple of Greafury to rest and sleep. It really saves a lot of trouble."

He recalled that in his previous travels on the continent of Blasares as an apprentice mage, in

addition to the potential for trouble with robbers, he had often been treated unkindly because

of the deep-seated fear that legends about mages had instilled in the common people.

However, in the future, with this emblem, he could avoid the "harassment" of the people to a

certain extent, and feel at ease to travel to various places.

However, when he saw the scene at the entrance of the ice tower, the good mood he had

just been feeling disappeared without a trace.

Hardy rarely sat on the ground, a huge double-headed sword that he could not wipe with his

sleeve. All around him lay a field of broken pieces of hardware and riddled armor,

indistinguishable from a battlefield where men had fought.

"This is the best!" Hardy now had the look of a Wolf who had been hungry for half a month

and had suddenly found a fat sheep.

Mark, on the other hand, looks like he has ADHD, constantly looking at one thing and then

another. There are so many new things in front of him that he can't take them all in with his

two eyes. He was so excited that his little face turned red and beads of sweat began to seep

from his forehead.

Suddenly there was a ripple on the wall, and a circle of ripples appeared out of thin air. Then

the heavy looking mage walked in.

Vincent is holding two things in his hand, a black square badge and an eardrop with a pale

blue opal. He looked at all the things that had been turned upside down in the room and said

softly, "That angel, he has been caught..."

...

The downpour in the sky has slowly died down, and the flaming ring of fire is long gone.

Walking gently down the yellow sand floor, a black figure came before five cages.

Reaching out his left hand, he gently stroked the surface of the iron cage that had been

opened, and a burst of anger could not help but erupt: I had missed them day and night, and

wanted to hold them tightly in my hand, but the secret rolls of Ofa were gone...

"Don't let me find out where you will show up, I hope you can avoid my eyeliner", the dark

figure gnashed his teeth and said bitterly: "Once I find out, I will make you regret coming to

this world!"

On the other hand, without hearing the vicious grudge, Vincent explained to his companions

in frustration the big trouble he had encountered: the angel girl seemed to have been

snatched by the dark elves and disappeared into the dark underground world, leaving only

these two objects in his hand at the scene of the struggle...