Crimson Servant

The existence of Dark City is more like a fig leaf for the city federation, a compromise between those lords and the underground monsters, visitors from other worlds and dark forces. In the Mixley Forest on the mainland, adjacent to the southwest corner of the wall of the ancient empire, the ancestors of the Mixley people built a city-state made entirely of ash stone. It is called Staran, which means "Light of the Deep Forest." The original inhabitants of Starland, the ancestors of the Mixley people, went through hardships to climb over the mountains and through the dense forests, and got in touch with the outside world. Not long after joining the city federation, Starland was attacked by the underground race and fell. The blood of the builders of the White City was sprinkled on every wall, making the original brightness stained black. The remaining ancestors were driven into the wilderness and dense forests, and some of their descendants developed into the current Mixili people, living in the wilderness. of nomads.

The original City Federation was forced to fail to provide reinforcements in time for some reasons, and when Starland had become Dark City, everything was a foregone conclusion. Thieves and robbers, dark creatures and apostates, all wandering souls who have lost their spiritual home, all uncleanness have a final destination, except for the Mixley people.

After John Camp escaped from Sullivan, he returned to Dark City several times. Warlock Vertis looked at the dark city wall under the sun, and his restless mood gradually calmed down.

The red ribbon was untied from the neck of the deceased, crawling on the ground like a snake, not stained with dust, and got into the red robe of the warlock. John glanced at the completely destroyed carriage wheels, and looked at the coachman who had returned to the underworld with a little boredom. His cleverness and courage were not beyond John's capabilities, nor were those of his fellow robbers.

"Although I have long expected that those who dare to drive to Dark City are probably not good people." John raised his palm and looked at the blood cells with obvious impurities gathered in his hand. "Don't you have the basic judgment of observing people's emotions? It turns out they are not residents of Dark City."

"We have to walk some distance again."

The crimson robe advanced through the woods, and the afterglow of the setting sun was cut into fragments by the treetops. There was silence, and the birds and animals were silent.

John Kemp walked in the middle of the road, as if he were the only living thing around. The palms were hidden in the wide sleeves and closed in front of the chest. The head was hidden in the shadow of the hood, indifferent to the malicious sight in the dark. After a few minutes, those sights that were stinging like poisonous bees disappeared. During this period, the red-robed warlock did not receive any attacks, even though the bright color of the robe was better than any flower.

John Kemp breathed a sigh of relief.

Having entered the realm of Dark City, their neighbors were all cunning snakes, and they cautiously gave up on dangerous and hidden hunting.

"Pity."

The city gate is right in front of you. Standing outside the city, you can also see the corner of the commercial street arcade. Several dark elves wearing dark leather armor are standing there, holding wine bottles and talking to each other, talking about something that makes people laugh. Fun. Several of them glanced at John, as if they were seeing an inconspicuous pebble, and continued chatting as if nothing had happened.

No one cared about the city gate. There were no guards and John Kemp walked in.

After stepping on the suspension bridge and walking onto the first blue-black stone brick in the Dark City, John Camp had completely blended into the shadow of the Dark City. The slight noise behind him started to be noisy. The dark elves who were chatting just now had stopped talking. He looked at the magician who stepped into the city gate with a playful look.

A gust of fishy wind struck down, and the magician blocked the attack as expected. The red ribbons held up the giant jaws on both sides, allowing John Camp to pass the review safely.

"Drink...drink..."

The six-meter-long black-haired giant spider hiding behind the city gate roared a few more times, trying to get rid of the red ribbon that sealed its ferocious mouthparts. Her hairy legs and feet were tapping against the wall, looking helpless and irritated.

John withdrew the [Chain of Sin], and the giant black-haired spider moved its mouthparts, hissed twice at John, turned around and crawled back into the darkness behind the city gate.

Several dark elves stopped watching the show and showed satisfied expressions when facing the approaching warlock.

"Toll, 20 gold coins, you can pay two less, for the sake of [Domi] not being injured." Without mentioning [Domi]'s successful outcome, the dark elf with his long white hair tied into a high ponytail posed. A look you've earned.

John took out the gold coins and handed them all to the dark elf. This is the rule of Dark City. If you want to cross the gate of the corresponding area, you must pay a toll. Each of the three areas has its own screening features, and the dark elves’ pet feeding is not the worst. The giant spider only has one sneak attack and does not need to be blocked. It is not difficult to be prepared and dodge with flexible hands and feet. Of course, this also shows the unfriendly foreign attitude of the Dark Elves. The arrogant social habits of these underground races are as famous as their bloody style.

"The mistress of conspiracy bless your wallet." This can be called the best blessing of the dark elf, John Camp thought to himself, stepping into the narrow and winding alley.

The manager of the East District is [Venomous Scorpion] Kelly Amardan. One hundred and forty-seven years ago, she led the dark elves to bloodbath the Dark City and became the original ruler here. The manager of the Northwest District is Adrian Frasca, [Bane of Life], a crazy alchemist. Seventy-five years ago, he was miraculously taken in by the Dark City and befriended 37 people. The dark elf mage was completely transformed into his own deformed servant. The manager of the Southern District is the vampire Count Smelky. During the war between the dark elves and the alchemical creations, this vampire took his cunning allies to seize his territory. Count Smelky is also an advocate of Dark City’s openness to the outside world, encouraging new blood to integrate into the Dark City family.

The three managers who restrained each other created a basically peaceful situation in Dark City. They were intrigues and intrigues, but no large-scale armed conflicts occurred. Of course, these smart managers would not give up the opportunity to completely eat their neighbors. If If exists.

John Camp had an acquaintance with Count Smelky, so he never wanted to leave too many traces of activity at the vampire's regional gate, especially when he realized that his goal was related to Count Smelky's. After there was a certain overlap in the recipes, the vampire who always kept smiling must have realized this.

Passing through the border between hunters and gargoyles, John Kemp walked into an old-fashioned hotel.

Carlton's ancestral hotel, says the swinging sign.

The hunchbacked goblin in dirty clothes was struggling with the oil stains on the floor with a mop. When John passed by him, the goblin's big cloudy eyes looked at the warlock vaguely, and then he kicked over the bucket next to him as if he was electrocuted. . Ignoring the screams at the front desk, the big-eared goblin returned to cleaning the palm-sized area, not caring at all even if the surrounding area was stained by spilled sewage.

"About...Mr. John..." The human man at the front desk had a funny hooked nose, and the oil on his cheeks seemed to have never been cleaned. He smiled charmingly and showed his ugly yellow teeth, and put one hand on the drawer. Inside, it feels like it's been bitten by a drawer and can't be lifted out of the countertop.

"Long time no see, Carlton." John smiled. The warlock's smile did not achieve the comforting effect he thought at all.

Carlton's legs shook even more, and he had to lie half down on the counter.

"You... haven't been back for a while... I thought..." Carlton's pupils dilated and lost focus.

"Do you think I'm dead?" Sullivan's good result put John in a good mood at this time, and he pried open the deepest black box in Carlton's heart without a care.

"No! How could I think that! This hotel will always be yours..." Carlton made a high-pitched voice like a woman, buried his head on the counter and began to sob.

John doesn't actually care what Carlton really thinks, he always has. He left Carlton to run the hotel, just to make it more like a hotel. John closed his eyes, opened them after a few seconds, and said to Carlton: "The resident of 302 is dead. The resident of 301 did it. Remember to dispose of the body and don't leave the room empty."

"Okay...ok, Mr. John." Carlton nodded tremblingly, "I will put half of the coins I found at the door of your room...I mean more than half!"

The inheritance of an unlucky man is only a drop in the bucket to John, but he will still keep it to prevent Carlton from having unnecessary thoughts.

"Sir... do the residents of 301 want to clean up?"

"Of course not." The warlock was very happy that the sins of others had deepened and were so close to him. "Find him a better neighbor, the kind that Dark City lacks most."

After saying that, John Kemp stepped onto the stairs, and Carlton maintained a humble attitude until he disappeared from the sight of the warlock.

Going up the stairs, hearing the rude noises of the residents and the slight fluctuations of spells along the way, John was very satisfied with his residence. The handrail of the stairs and the nearby wall began to bleed. The bright red liquid climbed onto the back of the magician's hand and turned into a red ribbon. He lifted John up and floated towards the single room on the fifth floor of the hotel.

Transforming an inn into your own mage tower is a risky decision, and living with a group of residents (or sacrifices) in your own mage tower is even more absurd. But it turns out that his ingenuity worked. The old hotel decoration reduced prying eyes, and there would be no greedy adventurers keeping an eye on their wealth, while those greedy residents easily accepted the cursed setting of the hotel. , blaming the weakness from blood loss after waking up from the curse. Carlton can occasionally make extra money, as residents sometimes enjoy neighborhood interaction.

When he saw the familiar peeling wooden door, John Camp felt a little tired in his mind, which was the aftereffect of complete relaxation. While taking out the key, he chanted a spell to cancel the rune trap. John opened the door and looked at all the familiar arrangements inside, showing a sincere and gentle smile. In the empty home, the magician felt peaceful.

"Long time no see, John."

John turned his head suddenly and saw a small snow-white thing appearing in the corner. A ferret poked its head out of the pot and uttered human words.

No, she didn't stick her head out, but was bitten by the mouth of the pot, leaving only one head exposed.

"Nora...why are you in my room?"

The ferret rubbed its head against the ground a few times.

"Because I heard you were coming back soon and wanted to greet you here, dear John."

"Then it happened to trigger my anti-theft mechanism?"

The ferret blinked.

"I can explain that, John."