I Will Be The Crowned King

After nodding with Professor Mace Hornard, barely saying goodbye, Anson, who closed the door, carefully confirmed that the door was locked before turning around and walking into the cloakroom.

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In the narrow and dimly lit cloakroom, a man in a church-style robe and a mask with only one eyes is sitting at the coffee table under the wall lamp, with some restless hands on the table, clenched tightly in his hands. A parchment-gloss scroll.

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"Do you want to buy the magic book of [Rifeng]?"

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The man looked at An Sen who walked into the room and sat down in front of him. His slightly sharp voice couldn't hide his surprise. Judging from his voice, he was not too old, probably no more than thirty years old.

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"That's right." Anson nodded, his eyes hidden under the hood glanced at the pocket watch in his right hand: "Is there any problem?"

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"No...No, nothing!"

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The man wearing the mask shook his head again and again, and laughed as if in a panic, "I'm a little surprised that someone would actually buy this."

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"What I mean is...even though it was a secret gathering organized by black mages, after all, everyone is still very wary of each other, and few spellcasters dare to make deals in such a place; exchange information and research experience with each other, and deal with the usual problems. What you dare to do is basically the limit."

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"If it wasn't really tight, I wouldn't dare to take the risk and take out the spell book!" The masked man shook his head and said helplessly.

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Anson nodded silently to show his understanding, and then secretly glanced at the pocket watch in his hand.

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Although the faith of the Ring of Order in the Kingdom of Clovis is far less devout than that of the Empire, it is still very strict in matters such as the "Old Gods"; if it is not for the fear of being caught by the Church of Order and sent to the steam valve, Anson will not Will be so decisive to take refuge in Ludwig, the son of the archbishop.

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In contrast, the other party dared to appear in the church academy as an Old God sect, which is already considered "very courageous".

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"Before the official transaction, allow me to waste a few more minutes to introduce you." The masked man spoke softly, his voice a little nervous:

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"First of all, I declare that I am not an old school of gods - although I am indeed a low-level conjurer, but there were other reasons at that time; then this magic book, I bought it from a bankrupt guy, It's not mine, so you don't have to worry about someone following this magic book to trouble you."

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"One more thing, a spellcaster like you who came to the party for the first time, if there is no one behind him or a force like the 'Black Mage', once someone knows that you have a magic book in your hand, they will attract coveted, so it is very important Few spellcasters dare to easily hand out a magic book." The masked man added.

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Um?

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An Sen couldn't help but raised his eyebrows: "How do you know it's my first time here?"

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"Ah... well..." The man wearing the mask was startled at first, then smiled embarrassedly:

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"Mainly because it's not the first time I've sold magic books here. If you're really interested, buy them two or three months ago."

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"Furthermore, low-level magic spells like [Sharp Wind] or [Gathering Flames] have many restrictions and are cumbersome, and their power is not satisfactory. Only newcomers who have just started will be interested."

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"Nevertheless, I will not reduce the price. Two gold coins can't be less than a penny - I need money very much right now." The man wearing the mask insisted.

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An Sen, who was silent, took out a two-gold bill from his pocket with his left hand and placed it on the table. The two eyes behind the mask instantly became round.

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"The original ring is on!"

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The man who sighed handed over the scroll in his hand, and then hurriedly took the banknotes as if he was afraid that Anson would go back on it. :

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"Cough, cough... For you're so happy, I can answer two more questions; ask, as long as I know what I know, I'll say it all—except for inquiries about my identity."

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He's still a very cautious guy, but it's normal... Anson thought for a moment and then said softly, "Then the first question: the effect of the spell [Sharp Wind]."

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"Do you really want to ask this?" The man glanced at Anson: "It will be clear when you go back and open the scroll and study it. Do you still need to ask me here?"

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"I am more curious and don't like to wait." Anson gave a reason that was not a reason.

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"Okay, since you insist."

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The man shrugged and said indifferently, "Like most common spells, [Rapid Wind] is also a spell that requires 'rubbing' to show its effect."

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"Its effect is to make the casted thing as sharp as a sword within five to fifteen seconds after the casting is completed, and then the sharpness mainly depends on the effect of your casting."

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"Anything is fine?" Anson asked.

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"Anything is fine." The man nodded and chuckled: "If you like, you can also rub it on your fist or head, the effect is the same - it's a pretty useless spell anyway."

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"Useless?"

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"Yeah, think about it, now you can kill someone with a pistol, so why not use magic? What's more, if you kill a person with a gun, at most the guards will come to arrest you; but if the body is found A little trace of magic, that is the ruling knights of the Church of Order!"

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The man sighed and waved at Ansen: "Don't say it, so you don't regret it; next question."

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"...I want to ask about the answer of the 'Black Mage' just now." Anson was silent for a few seconds and said:

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"He specifically replaced the third question with the murder case on the Steel Sky. Did this matter have a great influence on the old gods in Clovis City?"

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"Of course!" The man said without hesitation:

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"Thirteen guard officers died on a steam train full of people without a single movement, and whoever's first thought would be 'this is magic' or 'this is the old gods'. Yes, including us old gods!"

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"There's a war going on right now, and there was a little bit of news about 'the old gods' activities' in Thundercastle, and the ruling knights rushed over like a mad dog; if the murderer on the train really doesn't have long eyes Spellcaster, the first person who wants to kill this idiot is the old gods in the capital!"

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"Is it that serious?"

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Anson Short-Eyed Fool Bach was a little surprised.

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"Of course it's serious, this will endanger the life and death of the entire Old God sect in the capital!" The man wearing the mask said very seriously, "Just think how many innocent old gods the church and the guards will bring down in order to catch this idiot. A believer of God?!"

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"In the old **** sect in the capital ~www.readwn.com~ the black mage and this secret club of St. Isaac College are still somewhat famous; he came out to explain it today, probably to make us feel at ease, right?"

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Well, maybe it's not just for this... Anson said silently in his heart.

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The transaction was completed, and the two silent people continued to sit at the coffee table for a while; the masked man got up first, pushed open the door and returned to the red carpet hall; Nathan, who was still in the cloakroom, poured himself from the wine rack beside him. A glass of rum and a gesture of no rush.

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The man standing outside closed the door with his backhand, and the dimly lit cloakroom returned to silence again.

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Anson took out his pocket watch again, the time was 7:29 - eleven minutes left before the time he had agreed with a girl who was eyeing a talkative novelist.

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"Click!"

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Anson slammed open the wardrobe beside him, threw his robes in, and strode towards the door that led directly to the red carpet hall.

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I have to leave St Isaac's College in eleven minutes!