After the holy sword is broken

"So, we hope that you will be responsible for recasting the holy sword."

When Alger first heard this sentence, he thought he had heard it wrong, and was stunned for a while.

The chief priest waited and waited, but he didn't get the answer he wanted, so he slightly emphasized his tone.

"Alger, the third executor of the Poetry of Truth, do you have any dissatisfaction with the mission assigned by the religious order?"

"No, Your Majesty." Argel reflexively said.

——This lord has always been impatient when discussing matters, and there are only a few people who dare to choke at this time, and he has counted the entire sect, and he is obviously not one of them.

Afterwards, Alger added with some hesitation: "I just have some doubts."

"You say." The chief priest nodded.

"I'm neither a weapon blacksmith nor an alchemist. I don't know anything about forging weapons. Why did you choose me to do this job?"

Are you kidding him?

Alger was very puzzled, and he added: "Perhaps I am more suitable to punish the blasphemer who dared to destroy the holy sword."

The chief priest coughed in a disguised manner, and his eyes flickered suspiciously.

"Well... Regarding this, the gods and the religious order have their own arrangements, you only need to complete your own tasks.

"As for the task content... the priests of the Poetry of Truth agree that you are competent, please don't question your ability, and don't disappoint the trust of the priests."

Is that so?

Alger deliberated and asked: "Then, at least appoint a few more colleagues? Forging a holy sword is not a trivial matter."

After all, it is a sacred weapon enshrined in the altar of the sect, and its rank is beyond the measurement range of ordinary weapons. Where does it say forging, it can be forged.

A very reasonable request, but was rejected.

The priest spoke earnestly and earnestly: "The authority to know about the damage of the holy sword is very high, except for the high-ranking priests, only the executor is allowed to know.

"And there are only nine executors of the poem of truth, two of whom are stationed at the gate of hell, two of whom guard the human royal family, and three of whom carry out long-term secret missions.

Argel calculated silently in his heart: "Isn't there another one?"

The head priest didn't change his face: "His wife is about to give birth and is on paternity leave."

...the executor still has paternity leave?Why doesn't he know?If he knew... Forget it, he didn't marry a wife.

Alger felt a headache.

It's not that he doesn't want to work for the sect, this task really touches the short board of his ability.

If he could do this, he wouldn't have given up all the legal professions because the runes were too difficult to remember, and resolutely became a swordsman.

The head priest paused for a moment, but then he let go: "However, under the premise of keeping it secret, you can use this to get the highest priority of action in this sect, and get help from other sects in the Star Cult Department."

A ring was placed on the table, pressing the map folded by the holy sword.

This is a very simple pure black ring at first glance. Except for the emblem of the poem of truth engraved on the front, there are not even any inlaid gemstones or inscriptions branded on the surface. Find out what material it is made of, and the cutting is very delicate and delicate.

As a member of the cult, Alger recognized that this was the ring of the chief priest, symbolizing the reliance of the supreme authority under the gods of the Star Cult.

Giving this ring to a member of the religious order means granting him the authority that belongs to the chief priest, which is a great trust.

"Your Majesty..." Alger was at a loss for receiving this honor, and finally said, "Thank you very much."

The chief priest waved at him lightly: "Go."

After leaving the secret room, the wooden door slowly closed in front of his eyes, Alger still felt deeply absurd.

The legendary holy sword that existed in the New World for thousands of years was broken.

And he has to bear the responsibility of recasting the holy sword alone.

The ring of the chief priest is placed in the inner pocket close to the heart, and it is very heavy.

Alger felt anxious. He didn't know what would happen if the altar lost its holy vessel, but the fact that the legend had fallen made him feel deeply panicked besides heartache.

Sighing, he unfolded the forging map of the holy sword, hoping to get a clue for this task that he was not good at.

However... I don't understand.

It's not the level of "understand all the words, but not even one piece".

Because it even uses different characters.

The materials and forging process are written in long and short poems similar to alchemy formulas, and the languages ​​of the ancients are mixed with the languages ​​of other ethnic groups.

The part that can be identified is also covered by clouds and fog, making people puzzled. A layman has no pointers, or even thinks that these verses are about forging weapons.

The deconstruction diagram of the magic circle is full of geometric figures and complicated and difficult formulas.Elven language and ancient human language are mixed, and they are carefully annotated beside it.

The inscription, which should be the most obscure, is more recognizable because of the unified system—although Alger knows nothing about it.It's just that these inscriptions are arranged so densely that one can't help but feel dizzy at a glance.

Alger silently folded the atlas again, rubbed his temples, and decided to seek help from the almighty Master.

Fa Ye naturally refers to the mage.

As for why they are called masters, it is probably a custom to show respect.

Alger never delved into the origin of this honorific title, but he still happily inherited the fine tradition of "If you have any difficulties, find the Master".

Although the mage that Alger was familiar with was also a member of the Poetry of Truth, he did not live together with the headquarters of the religious group, but built a mage tower near the suburbs.

About to be quiet?

The place where the religious order is located is an important dock for human settlements, and it is almost the most prosperous area in the entire New World.

Merchants trade here, residents of different appearances and races come and go in the streets, and the atmosphere is very lively.

As soon as Alger stepped out of the door, the complicated voices from the outside world filled his ears.

After going around another street, the eyes suddenly opened up.

It had just rained last night, and the brick-paved ground was a bit damp, and dew was still hanging on the bluebells and clusters of white flowers on the side of the road.

The bard who played and sang under the tree, the dwarf who forged in the blacksmith shop, the merchant who rhymed the goods to the dock, the elf sage who taught human children, the half-orc coolie who was driven by the slave master, and the girl who walked in front of him in a skirt .

The sound of singing and piano, the sound of metal collisions, the sound of distant sirens and carriages rolling over bricks and stones, the poetic language of elves, the sound of leather | whips, cursing, talking and laughing together constitute a wonderful symphony.

It is also noisy and full of human fireworks.

Alger once asked a priest about why the headquarters of the religious order was located here.

[Isn't it more in line with the world's perception of us that we live in seclusion? 】

That's what the priest answered.

[Participating in secular affairs is also an extremely important practice. Contacting various complicated affairs can be more conducive to our understanding of the teachings of the gods. 】

It sounds like a very reliable answer - if there is no last half sentence:

[Also, if we choose a wilderness, who will come to buy our wine? 】

Hmm... The Poetry of Truth relies on selling alcohol to keep the church running.

The Department of All Stars does not strictly prohibit alcohol, but only advises believers not to drink too much.

The gods of the stars have taught their people the secrets of brewing, and when it comes to the quality of the wine, no wine cellar can produce higher than the poem of truth.

...Because of the "cheating" of the poem of truth, the mysterious power was secretly used.

The grains and fruits cultivated by the druids themselves, the secret recipes handed down by the religious order, the alchemists personally operate the knives, plus the blessings of the priests, even the wine barrels have inscriptions.

It is normal that the wine brewed by ordinary people cannot compete.

Fortunately, Poetry of Truth has no intention of monopolizing, and has never maliciously lowered prices. Instead, it consciously maintains market order, and its reputation within the industry is actually not bad.

But Alger always felt that something was wrong.

Wouldn't it be good for a clergy group to safely sell amulets and holy water, exorcise demons and cure diseases?

Occupation does not distinguish between high and low, but you must always consider a professional counterpart, right? !

Recalling this incident, the reason why the holy sword was broken, Argel felt his temples start to jump up again.

Take the holy sword to open the wine barrel...

Who did it? !

He knew that the Order had always had a simple style, but he never thought that it would be so simple that he would not even be willing to buy a barrel opener.

If you can't afford a barrel opener, can't you open it with an apprentice's iron sword?You have to make trouble with the holy sword.

Oh, Lord of Order and Law, God of Judgment and Punishment, what a lack of reverence and piety this is.

Alger was furious in his heart, walking briskly through the dock town.

Follow the street and turn around the market ahead, there will be a shorter road.

The town built around the pier is as complicated as a maze, but Alger grew up here since he was a child, and he has long been familiar with various routes.

When passing by the market, the cries of peddlers and the noise of bargaining made him feel particularly irritable, and he unconsciously quickened his pace a little.

At a small stall selling all kinds of animal bones, a man dressed in gray was looking at a small bird skull.

The shrewd dwarf businessman was on the side, using the accented mainland lingua franca, chattering about the source of this bone, trying his best to sell his products to the guests.

"Sir, look at this skull, how complete the shape is, and how fine the texture is. I once offered a gold coin to buy it, but I rejected it..."

The guests didn't say a word, and enjoyed themselves.

The long black hair over the shoulders is a bit messy, making people overlook his original excellent hair quality.The supposedly white coarse cloth robe was covered with folds. Although it was washed very clean, it looked a little dusty due to long-term use, and there was an aura of gold and stone mixed with fire from the whole body.

Behind him was a young man dressed as an apprentice. On the contrary, the apprentice was dressed more glamorously. His eyes were looking around, curious and restless.

"Huh?" He suddenly asked in surprise, "Isn't that the silver-haired and silver-eyed Mr. Poetry of Truth?"

Hearing this, the person who was looking at the bird's skull turned around, his sapphire blue eyes scanned left and right, and found his target precisely.

Those are a pair of stunning eyes, not only because of the beautiful pupil color and slender and fine eyelashes, but there is a soft and clear divine light in these eyes, like the reflection of the blue moon shattering on the Lingbo of the lake.

It's just that such a pair of eyes look a bit out of place on a face with a short beard and slovenly appearance.

It was a focused and quiet gaze, even reluctant to blink.

The corner of the executor's black and dark red clothes was about to disappear around the corner, and the person who was watching silently was feeling lost in his heart, but saw the color suddenly stop.

There were panicked sounds outside the market, children's sharp screams, girls' exclamations, men's scolding, mixed with the sound of things overturning.

what happened?

A high-pitched and clear bird song sounded, accompanied by a wave of scorching magic.

This is……

The author has something to say: Cough, although I really don't want to admit it, the one above is indeed the real subject of this article... Please don't despise him, he will become very amazing when he officially meets Alger.

The author really gave him a good face, the kind that can be used to eat, but it's a pity that he wants to spoil it (the tone is suddenly vicissitudes).Can't help it, really can't control it (sigh). T_T