What is it like to be a wizard in modern times?

When the girl woke up from her dream, it was getting late. She raised her hand and rubbed her stiff neck. The air conditioner in the car made her feel a little chilly.

The attendant beside her asked if she was okay. She silently stared at the ancient tower top not far away, which was immersed in the sunset, and said softly, "It's all right...it was just a dream."

But as far as she is concerned, dreaming itself cannot be called "nothing".

What dream did she have...

The girl bit her fingertips and thought hard, and some afterimages of fragments floated in her mind.

The music is melodious, and the pure white dance skirt rotates with the dancers and flies like white feathers. The swan in the lake stretches its wings gracefully, and suddenly flutters its wings to fly high.

For some reason, the girl felt uneasy.

She raised her head to look at the towering castle that was gradually revealing its towering silhouette, and she grabbed the hem of her skirt to control the trembling of her hands.

As a witch, her intuition told her that there was something wrong with this matter. No matter how confident the elders in the family planned, she always had a vague sense of foreboding in her heart.

So she didn't want to come to this banquet that sounded grand in name and was actually no different from pimping.She had planned to stay home and wait for the dust to settle, but her mother insisted that she dress up, with a frenzy in her eyes that she understood but could not.

In the wizard's family, the mother has the absolute right to speak, and her mother grabbed her shoulder, so hard that her bones ached.

my good girl.

Her mother looked at her like a beautiful and delicate work of art.

You are the best, there is no one more suitable than you.

Her mother praised her and drew her a wonderful blueprint for the future word by word.

She knew, she always knew, if she had to choose which girl in the family to breed the next patriarch with Banxi, she would be the most suitable and outstanding one.

Although it cannot be compared with a genius like Bancy, her talent is also the most outstanding among the witches of this generation in the family. Her perception is sharp and powerful, and she has also shown a certain ability to dream. Her descendants are likely to be the same will inherit this power.

Everyone is looking forward to this, and she doesn't reject it, unless the luck is as bad as Banxi's mother, otherwise pregnancy will be an excellent opportunity to touch another level and greatly enhance the mystery of self.

Since there is always this process, compared to others, Banxi is naturally the best choice.

There is no need to marry for a child, and there is no need to bear additional responsibilities. Not to mention the talent of the offspring is guaranteed, and it also comes with the power, wealth and mysterious bonus of jumping from a collateral line to a direct line.

If the time and scene were changed, she must be more active than anyone else, but now, her intuition pointed to today's banquet as a counterproductive result.

It would even be worse, and worse omens were looming in the future, and as she approached the main house step by step, it became more intense step by step.

The car stopped at the entrance of the old castle. The red carpet was spread along the steps from the hall to the roadside. The servants of the old castle opened the car door for her. The girl drew a pentagram on her chest in a panic, took a deep breath and stepped out of the car door.

She was the best and most outstanding young witch of the generation of the Rothbart family, and she was not nervous or at a loss.She raised her chin and straightened her back, arrogant and determined like Odile at the wedding banquet-she had got the prince, and she must have the prince.

Bancy remembered her.

He will leave some impressions of wizards with outstanding talents, not to mention that this is not a particularly distant relative of his blood relationship, and it seems that they played together for a while when they were young.

And it was the... object that he had tried so hard to match up with him. Judging from the situation at the banquet, he was probably still planning to force them together.

Bancy admits that she is a very good witch, whether she is talented or has a sense of mystery, even if it is far from enough from the perspective of those old immortal wizards, but against the background of this mysterious decline, Bancy This is the exception that shouldn't happen.

Or it can be considered that his abnormality is just a sign that the mystery is about to completely decline, and one day the mystery will be completely mysterious, and it will no longer be seen by them, the existence of this world.

Then why bother.

The waiter led Bancy into the center of the banquet hall, the red carpet was so soft that it swallowed the sound of his footsteps, and the eyes focused on him for a moment made him feel like he was the finale of an auction.

The elders at the end of the red carpet looked at him and frowned, with disapproval written in their eyes—he was indeed not properly dressed for this lot, with an open neckline, a bow tie that disappeared, and a print on his neck. The red mark of possessiveness is obvious.

Bancy has a new lover, and everyone present knows this well, and they have no objection and are happy to see it happen. After all, not everyone can hook up with a long-lived monster.

"Bansy." The oldest witch spoke, her eyes flicked around Bansy's neckline, and everyone knew what she meant without saying a word.

This is not something that can be put on the table, especially not something so blatant today.

"Ah... this?" Bancy tugged at the neckline, and the corner of his mouth curled into a smile, "He was a little unhappy, and made a fuss."

His tone was understated and careless, causing the people next to him to want to reprimand, but Mrs. Rothbart rubbed her elbow secretly and cut off the conversation: "Then let's start."

She raised her hand to signal the waiter to serve Banci a glass.

The wine glass is filled with light-colored wine, and tiny bubbles rise up from the bottom of the glass one by one. It looks like a weak fruit wine with a sweet aroma of ripe fruit.

Bancy took the wine glass and toasted with the guests present - he should be counted as the owner of the castle, considering that he has the title of a quasi-patriarch.

Also because of this title, the banquet was to be opened by him.

No one thought that he would do anything inappropriate on this occasion, even if he dressed casually and obviously resisted all of this, everyone agreed that since he appeared here, he would be a decent and sensible person here Good boy.

The more I got to know him, the more certain I was about this, so sure that such a group of witches ignored the vague uneasiness hovering in their hearts.

Bancy has always been an obedient and good boy. The paranoid part of his character is doomed that once he assumes a certain role, he will perfectly and thoroughly integrate himself into the position of that role, doing his duty as if without any personal emotions.

He is decent, he is knowledgeable, even if he is resisting, he is just passively waiting for others to take the initiative to pronounce the sentence.

But now he is also Shi Li's lover, and his lover doesn't like the mess in Rothbart's house, nor does he want him to perform his so-called "duties".

Unfortunately, at this moment, Shi Li is the one he prefers.

Bancy raised his glass, there was silence, and suddenly he could understand the joy of those cats pushing the glass on the table, waiting for the glass to fall off the edge.

"Everyone." He opened his mouth, and was surprised by the brisk and expectant mood in his tone. He was not cautious at all, and he lost his composure.

The choices and decisions that should be made have already placed his predetermined bets, and he has prepared for the worst results.

"I have a god to worship, and I have sworn to him my soul and my being."

Before he finished speaking, the atmosphere in the arena suddenly became tense. Everyone stared at him with wide eyes, as if they were looking at some monster.Bancy gestured to the left and right as if he didn't notice, and continued:

"So, I'm here to give back what belongs to Bancy, to Bancy Rothbart."

While talking, Bansy drew a pattern with his fingertips to separate the elders who rushed towards him with sudden expressions.

"Are you crazy?!" Mrs. Rothbart almost screamed, but couldn't stop Bancy from continuing to chant the spell.

"Father above, mother below, and the fire of life within me."

Bancy's voice was more like singing than chanting, low and soft singing lullabies that put the soul to sleep.

"The blood that is connected to me, the mystery that is connected to me, I return them all here."

He saw his own blood flowing out, the six-pointed star above his head was flickering, and the stagnant and dirty river of fate behind him was surging and being pushed and shaken by unknown forces.

The thread of fate stretched and entangled in his palm. He fiddled with his own destiny, and found the thread connecting his palm with the ancient blood on the other side of the "door".

Bancy described it as the heart-the heart that continues the mystery of the family, but it can also be described as a cemetery, where all the dead of the family are buried.

Forced to emerge from him, Odilea knew immediately what Banshee was doing and pounced on him to stop Banshee's tantamount to suicide, only to find herself, in horror, drifting past him.

She is really beautiful.

Bansy came up with this idea inappropriately. The girl who died in the prime of her life was as beautiful as a swan. Even in black mourning clothes, her cheerful and innocent appearance was more similar to that of a white swan.

Unfortunately, we will never see her again.

Bancy grasped the line of fate, Odile's figure gradually blurred in his sight, and the deepest part of his soul was clamoring, that was the voice of "Bancy".

Don't, don't.

The voice he could hear echoed the other side of the "door", the muffled sound of the heart beating again and again, weighing heavily on his soul like a mountain.

As long as Bancy uses more force, and more force, the destiny in his hand, which is connected by magic, will be broken. From then on, his existence—his blood bones, his mysterious body—will be reunited with "Rothbart" It doesn't matter.

And his next family hasn't made a deal yet, and they are probably waiting in the hotel with a gloomy face to figure out how to torment him. Banxi is not sure whether he will be accepted, or he may be rejected by his next family, and lose everything .

What can be done if you lose, Banxi can't think of it, and it might even be better if you lose the bet.

So he didn't hesitate much, and cut off his own destiny like tearing up a piece of waste paper.

What does it feel like to have the thread of fate broken... Bancy could only hear a crisp sound, but he couldn't describe his feelings at that moment.

He thought that the banquet must be in chaos because of his willful tossing around. Beyond the din, there was malicious anger rushing towards him. Bancy silently let go of all his "swords"—his The body, his reason.

His safe house has been destroyed and his soul has no escape.

But these are all he has to bear, and what he wants to get must be exchanged with pain and sacrifice.

"Since then, this place is a nameless existence, an unborn soul."

He was more relaxed than ever, his soul was completely blank, and the "door" was opening to him. If he had no anchor, he would not be able to stay in this world.

So his throat broke to call out to his god, and he had Shili's only anchor, but he couldn't tell whether he was longing for a response, or longing for no response.

There was darkness in front of his eyes, silence in his ears, and he was constantly, constantly, falling downward as if since he was born.

He was accustomed to waiting quietly, so that when he fell into a solid and warm embrace too quickly, was impatiently accepted and embraced by the vigorous and powerful mystery, and was completely fixed in the present world, his whole body shivered like being scalded.

Shili is angry.

His gods are angry for him.

What a novel and enjoyable experience.

For the first time, he was sheltered under the safe and warm wings, reaching out to embrace his god.

Shi Lv thought that his lover must not know that he was crying, nor did he know what he was muttering vaguely.

"It hurts so much..." The young man's voice was hoarse and bloody, he curled up in his arms and murmured to him coquettishly, "I hurt so much..."