Mage? Spell Engineer!

At the same time, the resistance movement on Air Island was in full swing and on the verge of collapse.

This is not contradictory. First of all, the good news of victory came from the entire island from villages to cities. It seemed that the kingdom gave up on Air Island overnight and handed it over to the gray elves.

But they found out that it was not their conscience. The administrators and lobster soldiers withdrew to the ports to set up defense lines. All ports were completely blocked by the royal fleet. As long as the gray elves approached, they would be mercilessly attacked.

After the Gray Elves took over the warehouse, they discovered that the food had long been transported to Istani Island or other places. In other words, widespread hunger will continue.

Even if the rebels could hold on to the fruits of victory, the fruits would be extremely dry and bitter, and would not allow the islanders to survive the following cold winter.

On the Istani side's position, sentries looked down on the island indifferently from a high point. They wore warm fur coats and held muskets, waiting quietly for cold and hunger to defeat these rebellious slaves.

Sirsa didn't know the above situation, but she was still very irritable these two days.

Following the instructions of the elders, the gray elf girl put on carefully prepared clothing, including armor, lace, and a skirt. In the girl's eyes, this dress was extremely weird - it could not protect her, it would only hinder her movement. Moreover, her combat skills were obtained from hunting and assassination, which required agility and flexibility.

Representatives from the villages and towns near Bellandst came to the city one after another. In the itinerary arranged for them by the Restoration Parliament, meeting Sirsa was an indispensable part.

Young and old representatives listened with hope and reverence to her (artistically processed) deeds. Sirsa felt deeply uneasy. When these people asked her, "Will she win?" "Can we win from the kingdom?" Do you want the food back?" Sirsa wanted to tell the other party that she was just as confused as they were.

She felt like she wasn't fighting now.

After enduring it for the third day, Sirsa finally made up her mind to take action tonight. She stared at the crescent moon hanging high, and it was estimated that it was already midnight. She changed into familiar clothes, and Sirsa felt much better now than wearing funny "prop costumes."

Although he is reluctant to part with the delicious food he has eaten these days, his desire to return to his team outweighs everything else. Only when he is with his hometown people, Sirsa is his true self.

puff. The sound of falling from the second floor was soft, and she was as nimble as a cat, quickly bypassing the dozing sentry.

"Too lazy." Sirsa felt that the current atmosphere was wrong, but she was just a soldier, what could she say? She could only thank the sentries for their carelessness, which made it easier for her to leave the big house and reach her team along the way.

Already moved? Silsa was startled to see that the camp was dark and empty. But soon there was a sound of thin footsteps. The girl held her breath and went deeper, and found that everyone was lined up neatly, wearing dark green cloaks.

She thought about it and took out a cloak from where the supplies were piled and put it on her body, blending in perfectly. She followed the small team and merged into a larger team, now about three hundred people.

Everyone was silent the whole time until they walked into a deep forest near Belllandst. When the layers of branches and leaves were pushed aside, a large open space suddenly opened up. The feldspar covered with vegetation encircles a circular area with complex grooves on it.

Everything here is clearly illuminated by torches, and there are heavily armed soldiers on guard, even more sophisticated than the defense of the top Gray Elves. When the capes arrived, the two parties exchanged a series of passwords before letting them go.

It is the relic of our ancestors! Even if they are just farmers, elves are familiar with some totems and symbols. Istani was not harsh enough and had a laissez-faire attitude towards the culture of the gray elves. Many historical memories were preserved through customs, allowing Sirsa and others to still know that the stone pillars were erected by their ancestors.

"The appointed time is coming, count the number of people." The commander in charge of the garrison gave the order to the cloaked troops.

The team was divided into small teams based on villages, and the usual village chief became the current team leader. He counted them, but found that there was one more person.

The slightly short Sirsa opened a corner of her hood. The village chief was surprised, but he quickly reported that everything was normal.

"Sirsa! You shouldn't be here!" After the village chief returned to the team, he immediately lowered his voice and asked Sirsa next to him. Others also noticed. In fact, everyone was very happy that Sirsa returned to the team and consciously gathered some teams. shape, wrapping her up in the crowd.

"What is our mission?" Everything is very mysterious, making Sirsa curious and full of fighting spirit.

"We are going to use the magic of our ancestors to secretly sneak into Storm City! We are going to make a dagger that can be inserted into the enemy's heart! When we show the ability to threaten the royal capital, the kingdom will compromise." The village chief recounted the words of the mobilization meeting. , and expressed his worries: "Sirsa, you can't follow us. It's too dangerous if something happens."

"Here, didn't we defeat the Knights of the Burning Lion together? The elders gave me a stupid name: 'Victory Girl'. Assuming they are right, let me join this operation and win together!"

While Sirsa and the village chief were communicating in a low voice, the commander who took the lead poured the burned resin into the trench of the magic circle. There was no fire, but the resin burned by itself. Suddenly, green flames burst out, creating a wall of fire within the stone pillars. .

The place leading to the Shadow Land, or to be precise, the Holy Land of the Elves, opened.

"No, I think the elders have their own considerations." The village chief was still hesitating, but Sirsa had already rushed into the wall of fire first, and he could only sigh and follow.

The flames didn't burn anyone, and there was a warmth that covered their bodies as they passed through them, but then the cold, damp air of the shadows embraced the members of the cloaked troops. This is the abyss where reality and illusion meet. It was the holy land of elves where the last hope was placed in the past. The huge statue of the ancestors shocked everyone and left them speechless.

Silsa did not pay attention to the useless ancestor. She felt that her foot was entangled in the strange black grass and cut it open with her own knife.

The Holy Land was just a transit point. The eyes of a giant statue shot out blue light beams, guiding the team all the way to the edge of the deep dive zone, and then passed through a stone gate again.

What would Storm City be like? Are the buildings there taller and more numerous than those in Bellandst? Are the streets paved with gold and filled with the smell of bread? After all, they took away our wheat and so much wealth.

Sirsa held the dagger tightly, and the others also walked through the portal anxiously, preparing to see the prosperity of the big city.

They came to a garbage mountain, and it was an extremely lively garbage mountain. A bunch of little people about the same height as a dwarf, but thinner, were singing and dancing, surrounded by a dwarf who looked real.

"Warmly welcome the Foreign Legion of the Holy Rat Whisperer Kingdom!" A man with a mushroom head in fancy clothes shouted loudly with a loudspeaker. The three hundred and one caped warriors of the gray elves accepted the welcome from the rat whisperer in a dazed state.