The next day, Vincent wakes up from his sleep, his body gradually recovered, or stronger than

before.

In that terrible Sealed Chamber, Vincent met an enemy he had never imagined possible-a

God who had lost his powers. There they wage an uphill battle. It was not until he finally

defeated his opponent that he learned the name of the god: Laltatras, the ancient god of

prophecy.

As he thought about the battle, he kept replaying the scene in his mind. As a god of prophecy,

Dire Tatras was not very powerful in his own right, but he retained several powers from his

days as a God. One of them was the power of prophecy -- he could know, to a certain extent,

what was to come. This made the battle much more difficult. Every spell Vincent used seemed

to be in his expectation, and every attack seemed futile because of his accurate defense.

"How did I manage to defeat him? Vincent shook his head. His memory was not so good

because of the constant fighting inside. In addition to the prophecy God himself, there are

countless demons of hell attacking him. Were it not for the irreconcilable conflict of ideas

among these demons, and the enormous energy consumed by their fighting with each other,

Vincent would not have been able to say whether he would have come out of that room.

"The turning point was when the spell hit him, wasn't it?" Vincent remembered the stunned

expression of the God of Prophecy. A spell that was meant to attack demons and should have

failed long ago had caused damage to the God of Prophecy. In other words, there was a limit

to his ability to see into the future, and this limit could not be longer than the length of time

between the spell's release and the time it caused damage.

So, in order to defeat the God and leave the sealed room, Vincent hides in a corner, and he

has never thought so hard about the strategy as he did then. He was completely focused and

could not receive any information from the outside world.

"If it weren't for Valentine, I'd be dead." At that time, the red demonic spirit, keeping a watchful

eye on his surroundings, manipulates Vincent's left hand so that he can crawl on the ground,

thus avoiding several waves of passing enemies.

By the time Vincent got back on his feet, it was two days later. He reached out his right hand,

condensed the silver ball of light, and stood before the God of Prophecy who had lost his

divine form.

"Then what happened?" Vincent couldn't figure it out. His memories of the fight ended there.

The next thing was for him to reappear in front of Hardy and Mark. Later, he did ask Valentine,

who was hiding in his arm, and the red soul answered him this way: "You and the god of

prophecy did not say a word, but you went to war. Since you directly invoked the power of

the magic source, the God of Prophecy, although able to estimate your actions, could not

resist so many attacks. He eventually runs out of power, and you win."

Vincent always felt that Valentine was hiding something from him, and it couldn't be so simple.

Although the silver orb of light that he can condense has powerful magical energy, he never

believes that his physical condition can withstand the ravages of the power of the magic

source.

"But in any case, I have another weapon to rely on." The principle of this almost inexhaustible

magic energy light ball is the same as that used by the ancient archarcane to support the

magic energy base of the flying city, which is to make the power of the magic source flow

directly into the world at a certain rate, and then be absorbed by the surrounding array or

magic objects, so that these things have endless power.

However, the magic energy base, according to records, is a huge thing, no one dares to

approach it, the pure magic source power is enough to destroy everything that dares to

approach it. This silver orb of light of his own making, of the same nature, floats quietly in the

air, like a harmless infant bent to its own command. Chi threw a gold coin into the ball of light, and the ball of light swallowed the gold coin

directly, silently, without a ripple, as if the gold coin had never existed in the world, and matter

disappeared directly into the cloud of light. Vincent even speculated that if the light ball was

black, it might be the destruction of the black ball.

In fact, sometimes conjecture is more accurate than research.

Vincent puts on the clothes that Stonelegs had sent him, an ordinary Dark Elf mage's robe

that Shelley had sent him on the news of her "departure." The well-made dark elf item, with

the spider goddess mark and some magic inscriptions on it, should have a certain protective

effect. The robe looked quite old, with obvious wear and tear on the shoulders and cuffs, but

throughout its whole body there was not a trace of other damage, let alone any sign of

magical attack.

"I wonder who the last owner of this sorcerer's robe was? However, since there is no trap in

this robe, Vincent directly uses his own magic energy to replace the magic network energy

that originally acted on the robe, and then puts on the robe.

"If you blacken your face again, you can pretend to be a dark elf." Hardy looked at Vincent's

new outfit and felt uncomfortable.

"Oh, Vincent, you really look out of place in this dress." Mark also said, "Oh yes, a dark elf

brought you a letter this morning. He said you must read it."

"A letter?" Vincent took it questioningly. In the underworld, darkness is always around all living

things, and normally no one would light a light to read or write -- most living things here

have dark vision. Letters, on the other hand, are rarely used.

"Stupid mage! Stay away from Dark Elf City."

"Hardy, Mark, have a look too. I wonder who gave this to us." Vincent handed the note and

went straight to the innkeeper.

'Who brought us that letter this morning, Mr Stonelegs?'

"I don't know, Mr. Master. Dark elves all look alike, you know." Stonelegs faltered a little.

"Don't pretend, Mr. Stonelegs, you are pretending to be embarrassed and secretive. You must

have some information for me, but I must ask for it myself. Well, let's be frank, and you'll tell

me all about it."

Stoneleg gave a little sigh, but said nothing. Instead, he closed the doors and Windows of the

inn. Hardy and Mark watched the old dwarf and said nothing to help him.

Vincent went to the wine cabinet and took out some glasses and a bottle of good wine, which

he set on the table in the pub on the first floor. The Dwarf, having finished his business at

hand, stood opposite the three men, drinking some wine from his own shop, and said.

"You have in fact been spotted by the Dark Elf soldiers here," he said. Stonelegs took a sip of

his wine and looked around. "The Thieves' Guild, to be exact."

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"I don't have anything to do with them. Why come to me?"

"I'm not quite sure, but they've recently had a new leader. The old Dark Elf leader died

suddenly for some reason, and it's said that a halfling has become the leader of this armourholding guild." Stoney Legs paused and said, "Maybe they wanted to use your power to make

a big shakeup in the city of the Dark Elves..."

"That's possible, but..." Vincent looked around at his two companions. 'I'm afraid I don't have

that strength either.'

"You know what, Master." The owner drained the hot liquid from the glass as if with great

determination, "I believe you have what it takes. Because Shelley was a sucker..."

"Shelley?" Vincent heard the name again. Ever since they had left Dwarf City, the white-

skinned dark elf had always been associated with the party of three, from the fight into Grey

Dwarf City; Their remeeting in the petrified lizard habitat; Earning the title of Advisor Mage to

the First Family, Shelley acted as a guide, leading them step by step to their current situation

through their ongoing battle with the ancient gods.

"What's her story?"

"She's the only one of the dark Elves who hasn't had her head eaten away by the spider

goddess, and she's kind." "Don't look at me like that," said the dwarf, as if lost in memory. "I

was not born in this wretched dark place. I was once a slave! You know, a slave in the arena.

You have no idea of the terrible life there. I can still tell good from evil."

"Take it easy, Mr. Dwarf, and speak slowly..."

"I was very lucky to be a winner in the ring and to be free. But I lost one of my legs. There was

no way for me to leave the underworld ruled by the dark Elves. So I was forced to stay here

and open a hotel, and Shelley was one of the partners in that hotel."

"A partner? What does she need these hotels for?"

'No, you don't understand the rules of the underworld. Only if a hotel has a dark elf or family

background can they survive in this predatory world. Miss Shelley, she didn't care about the

little money in the hotel, she just wanted to put a First family stamp on these businesses so

that we could survive. You know, she's a partner in every non-underworld owned business in

Prudence City."

'And what does that tell you?

'Others may not know what it is, but I do!' 'The Dwarf picked up the bottle on the table and

chugged it down.' She has always wanted to leave this dark world! She was never meant to

be in this world, you know. She only participated in these shops so that she could be here to

hear the stories of the above world."

Vincent frowned, not thinking that this dark elf woman had so much influence in the city of

Prudence, at least among non-dark elves, that she had no small degree of prestige. No

wonder she was not known to have any private powers, nor to have the title of priest, nor was

she respected by the rest of the family, and her skin was not even black, yet the mother

tolerated her, and even indulged her to a certain extent.

So what was it about Shelley that created her personality? The wizard began to recall the dark

elf girl's every move, but suddenly a picture came into his mind, the one with the Seraph.

"Wasn't Shelley's father a Dark Elf, but a... An angel?" 'asked Vincent, looking into the dwarf's

eyes and his voice shaking a little.

The Dwarf looked as if he had been suddenly struck by lightning, and he raised his forefinger

to his lips. "Just so you know, not so loud. It's an open secret in Dark Elf City. The First Mistress

had once captured an angel, but because the angel had a sex but was not fertile, this made

the mistress very angry, and no one knew what she had done to the angel. But a few years

later Shelley, who was white, was born."

"She must have faced a lot of discrimination, though. It's hard to imagine a dark spirit of

heavenly blood being born..." The mage thought about Shelley's slightly bluish skin color, and

complained that he should have known that only celestial beings had this particular skin tone.

"You're not the first person she's had a crush on, Master." "She has sought strong men before

who could take her out of this underworld, but they have all failed, and they have all become

powerful fighting forces in their families. She has a good eye for people, perhaps from the

other half of her bloodline..."

Needless to say, the other half of her blood must refer to the heavenly half. Thinking of the

two angels tracking Vincent's power and coming to the world, the master couldn't help but

marvel at the power of this "sensitive sense of smell."

"Those people eventually have good power, but at the same time they are used to living

among the dark elves. One by one, they got used to this dark world, and Shelley was stuck in

it."

"In that case, why didn't she go alone? Wasn't she pretty good?" Mark leaned over the table

and looked at the dwarf.

"I'm afraid it's not that easy..." Vincent and Hardy said in unison. Leaving the Underdark is not

the end of the world, and all the dark elves who have betrayed the city will accept the eternal

wrath of the Spider Goddess and may live a lifetime of constant hunting. In order to truly

leave here, in addition to a certain strength, you need to have a strong background or

influence.

The Mages' Guild was a good cover, but Vincent thought about his current abilities. Even if

he was very lucky, it would still be difficult to leave the Dark Elf City. He should still be stronger.

What the Mage didn't notice was that he wasn't even thinking about keeping Shelley in Dark

Elf City. He had made it his mission to get the Dark Elf out of town.

"Then we'll have a few more opponents to face here," he said. Vincent looked at the letter in

his hand and clenched it vigorously, "Even the thieves' union has come to insert a foot in it!"

The piece of paper used to carry the message was easily crushed into pieces by the mage,

but Vincent was shocked to find that the letter actually had a layer and a scrap of paper inside.

He carefully pulled out the contents and read them carefully by the dim light of the candle.

His eyes grew wider and wider, and he clutched the tiny piece of paper tightly in his hands,

as if he were afraid of its sudden disappearance. His white face was flushed with excitement.

The note read, "Vincent, this is Phelps, Littlefinger. I am now the head of a Thieves' Guild for

no apparent reason, but I can't help it. At last I see you in the city, and we shall meet tomorrow

evening at the entrance to the arena to discuss it. ' Besides, at the bottom of the sheet of

paper was drawn the mark of their adventures together -- a mark known only to Vincent,

Lambert, Carol, Newton, and Phelps.

"I'm surprised I found you, Littlefinger! Vincent's eyes were full of tears.