Autorre was safe and sound. When the people returned to this place, they directly sensed the completely different atmosphere between this place and the Sistine Chapel. It was a positive and positive atmosphere that made them feel comfortable from the bottom of their hearts. The pressure of the undead invasion was almost non-existent here because the news of the overlord aiding the Sistine Chapel and successfully defeating tens of thousands of undead creatures had spread across the entire territory. The people's confidence in the overlord allowed them to not worry about what would happen if the undead creatures appeared in their territory.
Salia, who hadn't seen Many for days, pouted and asked for hugs. Madam Vasaki, on the other hand, was delighted to see the construction team in the territory expanding Oditore Fortress. Medusa's houses were also being built. Although the Abyss Race wasn't used to living under the sun, no one would reject the clean, warm, and comfortable Oditore Fortress compared to the dark and damp underground city. The Abyss Race had strong adaptability, but it didn't mean that they liked the dark environment. Although the Mage Medusa's elemental cohesion was slightly affected by the sun, the effect gradually faded after a long period of practice.
"Has Salia been studying well?"
"Yup!"
The little girl was always grinning from ear to ear beside Many. However, Many's next decision soon made her pout again. Because he had decided to go to the Elven Royal City, Dashiell.
"Big Brother is leaving again …"
Many of them felt helpless when they saw Salia's desolate look. However, this was something that couldn't be changed. Since they had chosen Sylner, they would continue to believe in her. Although she wasn't the most powerful one, not the most beautiful one, and not the most outstanding one, many of them would still stick to their beliefs.
It didn't matter what the Temple said. Many looked at the vast mountains in the west, packed their belongings, and climbed onto the saddle on the back of the wyvern. The journey was long. Instead of teleporting to Sibor and running on a horse, it was better to fly on the wyvern. Although the wyvern's speed wasn't as fast as Carolina, flying in the sky was still faster than running on the ground.
Many are well aware of this.
However, Bishop Becky left many puzzled for a long time. Because when they parted, Bishop Becky strangely … or rather, strangely, the corners of her mouth twitched. She looked like she was trying her best to smile, but many felt that her beautiful face looked like she was crying when she tried to smile, which made him very depressed.
However, after riding on the Sky Dragon and flying into the sky, many people suddenly realized that Becky could actually smile?!
※ ※ ※
Saville lifted his head and looked at the mountain before him. He sighed softly and walked forward step by step.
Flying from the mainland to the island where Leoric was located was a challenge for any mage, not to mention for a 'former' Magister.
Saville was still alive. Of course, if the Undead could still be called alive, he could call himself "alive."
His hands were empty. Saville changed into a clean robe. The previous one had been torn apart and looked like a ragged rag. Even if it was a priceless high-grade magic robe that countless mages could only dream of, it had become a sacrifice under Madam Vasaki's attack.
The price of escaping was too high, but it was worth it to Saville. As long as he could extend his life, there was nothing he couldn't do. Although the price was his demotion to the eighth rank, it did not hinder his ambition.
Of course, after escaping the wrath of Madam Vasaki, he still had to face his superior, His Majesty Leoric.
After entering the dark cave and bypassing countless obstacles, Saville calmly stood under the six stone chairs. At that moment, there was only a proud figure sitting on the throne-like stone chair. Leoric's red pupils moved slightly, and his gaze shifted to Saville.
"Your Majesty, I have failed my mission."
Saville calmly knelt on one knee. He looked very old, but to Leoric, Saville was no different from usual. Even though he had lost the scepter and his magic power, he still had the dignity and aura of a Magister.
"Your mission has been completed. There is no failure to speak of."
Leoric's voice echoed in the empty mountain. "Have a good rest. The early stage of the mission is over."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Saville silently retreated. He wasn't excited about being exempted from punishment, nor did he make any other requests.
"Then, it's your turn, old man."
Leoric looked up and seemed to be talking to himself.
…
Winricton, in the north of the Empire of Saint Reims. It was already early summer. Everything in the territory was proceeding according to the established track as if nothing had happened. The Empire had experienced several large-scale battles and suffered many casualties today. Winricton sat peacefully in the northernmost part of the Empire like a peaceful harbor. Even its lord seemed to be as quiet as the distant snow-capped mountain, as if frozen and unresponsive.
Count Gatchalin continued to shut himself in his room all day. He was as vigilant as usual, but he seemed to be more active recently. Other than the occasional letter writing, he actually had the time to stroll around the territory a few times.
Of course, no one noticed this famous lord because of his strange appearance. Gatchalin wore the plainest of clothes and was as inconspicuous as a rock when he walked among the commoners. In these few days, no one knew that he had chatted with a rather old troll at the edge of the territory for a few days, and then went about his daily business as if nothing had happened.
But today, he seemed to have made an important decision. After ordering all the servants and guards to leave his residence, the Count tidied his robe and looked at the distant mountain quietly for a while. Then, he turned around and disappeared in the white light unique to the teleportation circle.
At the same time, a ray of light flashed in the forest outside the city of Sirius, and the figure of this Count appeared inconspicuously thousands of miles away as usual.
This kind of teleportation did not rely on a teleportation circle, but a special skill of spatial magic called 'Teleportation'. But even Saville could not use his own magic to teleport so far in an instant. The distance a Magister could cast Teleportation ranged from a hundred to three hundred kilometers, but it was obvious that Gatchalin was not restricted by this condition.
The contrast in ability made it obvious that he was a professional, but when he walked in the dense forest, he did not look like a powerful spatial mage at all … At this moment, he looked like a lost traveler, and there was nothing special about him.
After crossing the forest, more than ten kilometers away, the city wall of Liliath City was still as majestic as ever. Not far away, the armies of Marquis Barton and Earl Garr had gathered together. Although they were not in any offensive formation, their hostility was obvious. At this moment, the tension on the entire city wall was no less than that of the battle with the undead. All the soldiers were fully focused on guarding against the army in the distance. They did not put down their weapons for even a moment. The reserve troops were also in position at any time.
The battle seemed to be on the verge of breaking out, but in fact, the situation had remained the same for a week.
But it seemed like everything was going to change today.