[Comprehensive British and American] After the mage traveled through the super British world

Strange covered his chest like a girl being molested, clutching the dark green gem tightly in his hand.

"What do you want to do?"

Cyril: "...It's really just a touch."

Strange rolled his eyes: "Who knows if you'll drain the Time Stone like you drained Dormammu?"

The king, who seemed not to be living in the same world as them, was shocked: "What? Dormammu was sucked dry?"

The elf was already very tired, like an ordinary person who never exercised was suddenly dragged to run a 5000-meter long-distance race. The sore muscles had spread to the brain, and he was about to fall to the ground.

He didn't know how to explain it, but he pressed his temple hard and said, "I'm not greedy for the power of the Time Stone...but this is very important. I'm collecting the original power in this universe. Inhibit the spread of the undead. And the time gem, that is, the Eye of Agamotto that you have been guarding, is one of the original powers."

Strange was silent for a while.

Before Gu Yi died, the position of Supreme Mage was handed over to him, and besides being a powerful weapon, the Eye of Agamotto also meant a greater responsibility.

If one day, the Lost Legion really approached the city, and Cyril said that he would use the power of time to defeat the enemy, Strange would not hesitate to hand over this gem with infinite power to him.

"Is it really just a touch?"

Cyril could no longer maintain a perfect smile on his face, he just nodded slightly and looked at Strange.

His eyes were heavy, like a sea that had long lost its vitality.

There was no waves there, and there was no longer any wind and waves, but Strange saw a few surviving fish from inside.

Even in a dead sea, there are still creatures that want to protect it.

"Okay, then I'll touch it for you." Strange tore off the gemstone in the carved metal container and threw it into Cyril's hand. "If you touch it, you have to pay for it."

Sure enough, Cyril didn't break his promise. He opened the container with the magic patterns engraved on it, and just touched the gem lightly with his fingertips. A green light overflowed, and the fingertips covered with pale pink nails left immediately.That thread of green light is like a creeper clinging to the walls of old residential buildings in summer, growing little by little, leaving the ground, with an ancient and fresh taste, completely integrated into the elf's body.

[Congratulations on obtaining the Power of Time Fragment*1]

—

The three holy temples that were breached by the enemy need to be rebuilt, and the comrades injured in this battle need to be rescued, and since Strange has mastered the method of making soul stones like a genius, those mages who died but whose souls have not yet died also have a new life. A chance to get back into the world.

Except for the unbearable memory of being trapped in an eternal and infinite time, all other losses are acceptable.

Tomorrow is the day when "Brightness" is officially established. The anxious people on Earth need a grand ceremony to appease themselves. Cyril, as the unyielding leader, has already made plans to go to the United Nations General Assembly to participate in the institution's inauguration ceremony.

He should have gone to rehearsals, to the new base to prepare various matters with his subordinates, and then to attend a dinner specially held for him, socialize with politicians in suits and leather shoes, and high-society gentlemen and ladies in rich clothes and shadows.

But Cyril was just too tired.

He just went back to his home in the metropolis, took off his outer robe, and only wore a pair of trousers, sitting on the bed wrapped in a quilt in a daze.

The decades-old building exudes a unique smell, which is neither bad nor bad.It's like the smell of a quilt that has been piled in the cabinet all summer after it has been taken out, mixed with mothballs and a little laundry detergent residue.

Just like the thin curtains and the night light by the bed.

It is the taste of home.

This small room gave Cyril an unprecedented sense of security.

If it was the past, someone told him that in the future, you will hide in a human hut and lose your mind secretly, and you will regard this place as your own home.

The elves would absolutely scoff.

Their family is the darling of the goddess, elves condensed from the heart of plants and trees, and they are destined to wander the entire continent and print their footprints all over the continent.

He slowly closed his eyes.

Don't sleep, don't dream.

But sleepiness is never something I can control.

He was dreaming again.

Dreamed about something from the past.

The dwarf swung the hammer and smashed it hard on the burning red sword blank, splashing sparks.

The smithy was small and cramped, the hot air made the elf's cheeks flush, he frowned slightly, and the corners of his clothes were still stained with soot.And Heinciri, who was waiting for the weapon to be forged, turned his head and looked at him secretly.

Just yesterday, Heinciri sold his long sword and exchanged it for wine for the elves.In the restaurant of the small hotel where people come and go, the drunken elves held the wine jar and filled a glass for everyone they met. Among them, the dwarf craftsman in front of him was the one who drank the most.

After everyone was drunk, the skilled dwarf waved his hand heroically and promised to rebuild a long sword for Heinciri.

The dwarf is worthy of being the best craftsman on the mainland. This sword has not yet been formed, but its extraordinary quality can already be seen.

But as a warrior, Heinciri's heart was no longer on the sword.

He watched the elf, who was suffering from the smoke, finally give up on himself, simply lifted his robe and sat on the ground, his slender legs squeezed into the narrow aisle aggrievedly, his face was still tired after a hangover.

It was an elf, who should have been sitting high on a towering tree covered with dew, flipping through ancient magic books by the moonlight.At this time, he was with him, huddled in this small and dirty blacksmith shop, and took out all kinds of precious materials in the backpack, and told him expectantly that he would be handsome after he took this sword.

Thinking of this, Heinciri felt an unparalleled sense of satisfaction in his heart.

He didn't know that in the future, he would use this sword to pierce the elf's body.

At that time, all Heinshiri thought was.

——It would be nice if it could always be like this.

He traveled the whole continent with the elves and made many friends.

Take the subway in Ironforge, fight the undead in the Eastern Plaguelands, and join the gnome priest in Hillsbrad Foothills to rescue the administrator trapped in the dungeon.

But more than ten years have passed, and Heincily has not become the sage monarch he had imagined. Instead, he has changed from an unfavored prince like a bereaved dog to a notorious tyrant.He murdered his father and brother, a great rebellion, and the heads of people killed every day on the guillotine outside the palace are rolling.

In the end, a 16-year-old aristocratic girl, after the tragic death of her father and brother, was famous for her beauty in the entire continent like roses blooming under the moonlight. She was sold to the leader of the orc tribe who was in his prime and became a bride.The orc patriarch who kept his promise led a savage army of orcs to break through his country and hang him on the city gate to be cast aside.

Then, Heinciri, in despair, was inspired by the previous head of the Lost Legion, and voluntarily transformed into an undead.

During this period, Xi Ruier has been watching with cold eyes.

After experiencing the brutal struggle and cannibalism among the undead, Heinciri succeeded in ascending to power, and he started a new round of revenge.

"When the head of the legion comes with a long sword in his hand, stepping on the bones and blood, all living beings should submit."

The screaming undead chanted this slogan that has been proven countless times, and conquered cities and territories on the mainland, invincible.

Until it was blocked by Hills Moonlight Forest, where the light elves were born.

The high priest of the light elves burned his long life, borrowed the power of the gods, and summoned a river flowing with a high concentration of light elements to protect the birthplace of countless elves.

And it was Cyril who took over his responsibility and authority.

Heinciri was blocked by the long river formed by the divine power of light, so he captured those who he once regarded as friends.

The dwarf craftsman who forged the long sword in his hand, the dwarf priest who worked diligently to add blood to him and Cyril in the dungeon, the night elf mage who once loved Cyril but hated each other...

These people are also Cyril's friends.

"I just want Cyril to come out by himself. Or, I kill them."

He has no interest in the group of arrogant and indifferent elves, because only the elf Cyril is special to him, that is the god statue he cast with hot love and hatred, he will only pay attention to this elf The idol worships.

"You will become the deputy head of the Lost Legion and share the supreme glory and power with me." Heinciri looked at the lush forest across the river, imagining what Cyril looked like at this moment.

Will you be angry, will you panic?

Must hate him so much.

Heinciri thought that Cyril would step out, sacrifice herself, and save those innocent and troubled friends.

But Cyril didn't.

Not only did he not, he didn't even give him a reply.

Heinciri led the army and stayed there for three days and three nights. The cold wind by the river blew through his icy armor, whistling softly.

The furious head of the legion turned all the acquaintances guarded by the heavy army into undead, and walked away.

Before he started, the generous and heroic dwarf craftsman faced the river, with red eyes, and shouted loudly: "Siril, you made the right choice, and we won't blame you!"

Hearing this sentence, Heincily understood.Why didn't the elf, who has always been stingy in caring for everyone, not only didn't fall into the trap he set up, but he didn't even show up.

Because Cyril doesn't trust him anymore.

It takes time to close and reopen the barrier guarding Hills Moonlight Forest, which is enough time for the army of undead outside to break into it.

Even if Heinciri promised not to attack, even if Cyril wanted to save his friend.

But this barrier erected at the expense of the life of the previous high priest guards the lives of all the bright elves.

In the future, more newborn children of the clan will be born here.

If those who were transformed into undead were facing the same situation at this moment, even if they were heartbroken, they would not open this door for their friends.

Because standing behind them are the clansmen who are connected by blood, the hometown where they have lived since childhood, and it is a heavy and unshirkable responsibility.

He, Heinciri is just a treacherous villain in the eyes of Cyril, and he wants to use this method to trick the city gate.

In the dream, Cyril stood far away on the highest tree canopy in the entire forest, looking at the dust rolled up when the undead army left, two lines of transparent tears overflowed from the corners of his eyes, flowing on his expressionless face.

The elf slowly opened his eyes.

He woke up leaning against the wall.

Lost confidant, lost best friend.

After coming to this world, he also lost his hometown.

His heart is not big, as long as some very simple and ordinary things can fill it up.

But fate has never bestowed such simple happiness, and his heart has always been empty except for hatred.

As if still in a dream, Cyril got up from the bed wrapped in the quilt, and a strong desire/desire drove his body, making him want to confirm what he still had.

—

In the middle of the night, Clark lying on the bed was suddenly awakened by a rapid and irregular knock on the door.

He didn't actually sleep soundly.

Tomorrow, he will go to the inauguration ceremony of "Bright" with Cyril. Under the global simultaneous live broadcast, he will represent the Justice League and Superman to endorse "Bright", expressing his firm position and confidence in fighting against the undead.

Although the security measures are very perfect, this kind of public performance that will greatly enhance human confidence does not allow any mistakes.Because human beings continue to work and live, the panic atmosphere of the doomsday may disrupt the operation of society from within.

And the undead will never let go of this opportunity.

So, the moment he heard the knock on the door, Clark jumped out of bed.

He was wearing loose cotton short sleeves, and before he had time to fix his hair, he rushed over and opened the door.

Cyril stood outside the door.

The hand knocking on the door was still in the air.

His face was tired and beautiful, wrapped in a thin quilt, his long golden hair was spread messily on his chest, the remaining tear stains on his face criss-crossed, there was a tooth mark bitten by himself on his pale lips, slowly Oozing blood.

The voice-activated lights in the corridor suddenly turned on, casting a halo of yellow on the elves.

Elves do have fantastic looks, which perfectly fit the human aesthetic.Not to mention that in the middle of the night, a disheveled elf suddenly knocked on the door and appeared at the door, looking at him fixedly, with only his own reflection in his green eyes, enough to make anyone feel distracted.

But Clark was not fooled by this beauty.

He looked at Cyril standing barefoot in front of him and the tears on his face, and suddenly heard the sound of his heart breaking into pieces.

This is the first time...

I saw him cry.