"Littlefinger, who is he? Is he the halfling you mentioned on the road who came to the

Underdark?" Hardy had never seen Vincent so excited before. It was the second time the

Dwarf had seen him -- the last time when the Mage had regained his magical powers.

"Yes, he is a good friend of mine, and has helped us out more than once," said the Dwarf.

Vincent read the note again. "We had adventures together. In the face of many difficulties

and dangers, he always hid his little figure in the dark and walked at the head of the group.

Each time it was he who brought us news of what was ahead, each time it was he who lifted

the dangerous and cleverly hidden traps, each time he reached behind the enemy and alone

attacked those terrible monsters from the other side."

'Brave Halfling! Mark says, "I've heard stories about halflings too, but it's all about their good

food and playful personality. They're the best cooks, the best gardeners. They are said to have

the best winemaking skills. However, I have never heard of them also having brave warriors."

"Don't doubt it, Mark. All men grow brave in the course of adventure and travel." The Wizard

wiped his eyes, wiped the tears from them, and smiled at the two men. It had been a long

time since Hardy and Mark had seen such a genuine smile from the Wizard, since they had

entered Dark Elf City.

"Mark, you too are a brave dwarf. With your crossbow, you face monsters that are many times

bigger than you, with teeth that are bigger than you are. Their claws could easily Pierce you

if they could, but you never flinched or shivered with fear. You took up the weapon in your

hand and faced the danger bravely."

Mark blushed and looked a little embarrassed. He scratched his face to hide his

embarrassment. "Actually, it was all you guys behind me who encouraged me and supported

me. I'm not like you said."

'Oh! No! Hardy gave the dwarf a strong pat on the shoulder. "You are the bravest dwarf I

have ever known! That's true!"

"Oh, although I have met many passers-by, but you are undoubtedly the best one..."

But Stone Legs did not finish this sentence, the door of the pub was violently smashed. The

wood used to bar the door broke into pieces and flew across the stone floor with a "clattering"

sound.

Vincent picks up his staff and looks warily in the direction of the entrance. Hardy and Mark

also grab their weapons. Stonelegs hid behind the bar.

Two dark elves entered, armed to the teeth, their silver chainmail wrapped around their

slender bodies as tight and fitting as another layer of skin; They each had two scimitars

hanging from their waists, the unsheathed scimitators painted black, reflecting no light at all,

absorbing the light and temperature of their surroundings like an endless abyss. Mark even

felt the chill of the blades around his neck. The mere sight of the weapons was frightening,

but the dwarf, thinking of his friends, stood still and brave.

"Counselor, the honorable Matriarch commands you to proceed immediately to the family

residence without delay." The voices of the two Drow came out of their throats, but Vincent

always thought they came from the darkness they carried with them by nature.

"Now? At once?" Vincent saw the family crest they were wearing and identified it as a Courier

from the Chapman family. It seemed that the destruction of the temple was about to begin,

perhaps in the next two days, the First family would move. However, the wizard who has just

heard from Littlefinger is reluctant to help the Dark Elves carry out their plan. He is eager to

see his companions and friends.

As it turns out, the mage had to leave with the two dark Elves, not yet strong enough to take

on the most powerful house in the city of Prudence. Vincent thought about it and took off

the healing ring on his right hand -- Vincent never understood how the ring worked, so he

could not use the power of magic to transform it again. Now the ring is more like a ticking

time bomb for him. But it also served as a token. Littlefinger had seen the ring.

"Take this ring and this letter," he said. The mage put them into Hardy's hand. "Do me this

favor..."

Hardy understood what Hardy meant. He took the items and carefully put them away. "Take

care of yourself," Hardy said.

Vincent waved his hand and left the inn. He followed the two dark elves and walked quickly

toward the First house. Along the way, all the passers-by were afraid to avoid the path of the

three men, each with his head bowed, not daring to take it.I kept my eyes on the advancing warriors of the First House, afraid that my gaze would offend

the Drow and ignite their wrath. Now that the city knew the Chapman family was gathering

strength, no one wanted to be a sucker or an outlet for tension at this time.

The precious gold doors of the First family are slowly opening in front of Vincent, and the

Mage feels that entering this castle-like compound will be the trigger for an earthquake. He,

on the other hand, is at the center of a storm.

The two dark elves motioned to the mage and walked away, their figures seemingly merging

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into the darkness in a flash. Vincent knew they were doing everything they could to make

sure everything was right before the mission began. However, the Master estimated that the

warriors of these families had no idea who they were going to face. But these warriors have

been trained from childhood not to care about such things. They just need to know when to

attack, and that's it.

Mother Batana is wearing her Mithril armor today, over which she is draped in the black robes

of high sacrifice. She holds a hydra whip in one hand, a square emblem of black iron in the

other, and mutters. Most of the family was there, and Vincent went straight to his rightful

place, but opposite him, the warrior monk Regula was not there. Shelley, the half-celestial

dark fairy, was not at his mother's side.

Zena looked with a sadistic eye at the mage who appeared before her, a human being, living

in a debilitating sunlight, where comfort and ease had long since robbed them of their positive

fighting spirit, a weak species!

Vincent sensed this look and looked up at Zeena. His eyes suddenly shifted into the discerning

eye mode, losing the white of the LIDS, only to radiate endless black.

Zeena was shocked. She had never seen anything like this before, and the black of the eyes

seemed to cut through everything that covered her, to the depths of her heart. Looking down,

observing, even evaluating her soul, she wanted to retreat from the watchful gaze, but there

was nowhere to hide; On the other hand, the black eyes were like a whirlpool, and everything

was slowly drawn into the dark center, spinning, struggling, Shouting, but unable to escape.

She felt her soul gradually drifting away from her body, and could not stop wanting to get

close to the master, to merge into his eyes, to merge into his body...

The door slammed open, and Shelley trotted in, dressed as a warrior. She didn't mind the way

the other dark elves looked at her. It was a look of contempt, a look of disgust, for someone

who was a woman Drow but not a spider goddess. As she passed the Master, Shelley saw him

standing unharmed on the steps in the robe he had given her. A smile formed around her

lips and vanished.

Vincent's eyes caught this smile, and he did not find anything sinister in it, neither the cunning

and affectation of the dark elves, nor the deception and tricks, nor the exquisite pretence.

Shelley was smiling with her heart, with her soul, at that moment. It was a smile more innocent

than the one she had when she first appeared before Vincent.

It was only a momentary smile, but it left a deep impression on the mage's mind.

Zeina had managed to escape Vincent's gaze, and now she was breaking out in a cold sweat.

For the first time, she feels that she has made a mistake, that from the very beginning he has

misjudged this human power, and his own. If she were to face him now, perhaps this human

could take away his fighting spirit and harvest his life easily just by looking at him. There is

unmatched power in this mage's body.

For the first time in her life, Zeena felt too exposed in her clerical robes, and from her bare

arms and waists and thighs and those fleshy little feet she felt like she needed more fabric to

warm her tiny body. She whispered the name of the spider goddess in her heart, hoping to

draw a little strength from her faith, but her eyes could not help but turn again to Vincent.

She even hoped to truly fall into that gaze, forever fall into that gaze, and let herself be

completely weak once more...

But Vincent took his eyes off Shelley's face and fixed them on the ground beneath him, not

lifting them to look at the weak dark elf Zeena. There was a longing in the heart of the woman

who had always dreamed of being the mother of a dark elf.

"The time to go is tonight, and all the preparations have been made." The mother frowned,

as if some trouble were still lingering in her mind. "You may have heard that some time ago

an important kobold prisoner escaped from prison. Yes, there is nothing to keep secret about

it. It did happen. ' "She even took information that was very important for this mission," Batana

said angrily, waving a snake whip in her hand.

The mother looked down at the silence of the crowd, pleased with their unshaken response.

She continued, "The information is all in my head, huh? I'll see who gets in front of the First

family!"

"We are under the protection of the Spider Goddess, and in the glorious task she has

entrusted to us, we shall not fail!" Zeena's voice trembled at first, but gradually she returned

to her usual domineering tone. "Our first family is always the strongest!" She turned to look

at the silent mage and said with a hint of anticipation, "Vincent, aren't you?"

She wished the mage would look at her again.

Vincent did not look up. The calm, short answer floated out from under the old dark Elf mage's

hood: "Yes."

'Well, then, make your final preparations, everyone! Batana ended the conversation with a

wave of her snake-head whip.