After Being Fancied by a Necromancer

Originally, when Brian threw the black cat over, the black cat was quietly leaning against the bookcase.

But now, the black cat in the oil painting is lying lazily on the desk.

Brian walked over unhurriedly, curled his fingers and tapped the position of the black cat on the oil painting.

For a moment, Cyril felt that the parchment in his hand seemed to have a slight fluctuation of magic power.

When he looked down at the parchment in his hand again, he found that the content on it had changed.

Cyrillic was shocked immediately, realizing that this was the continuation of Brewster's diary, and hurriedly continued to read it seriously.

"...I have conducted many experiments. Fortunately, I have studied space magic before, and finally figured out the coordinates of the plane channel, but I suspect that there is more than one plane channel..."

When Cyril saw this sentence, his pupils trembled, and he was thoughtful.

If you know the coordinates of the plane channel between the abyss plane and the wizard plane, block it...

"...I squatted at that location for many days, and finally found the kind of creature that entered the Wizarding Continent from the channel of the plane. They seem to have a strict evolutionary level. I speculate that the more advanced the creature is, the more serious the alienation pollution will be. .I soon realized that this was a big trouble, and if they were allowed to invade the wizarding world like this, it might cause disaster..."

Seeing this, Cyril had to feel the foresight of Wizard Brewster.

It's a pity that the subsequent plane war still happened.

Even now, the Abyssal Plane remains a serious threat.

"...I tried to summarize the characteristics of these creatures and the methods to eliminate them. However, the pollution on my body became more and more serious. Sure enough, after they evolved, the pollution became stronger, and the original means of suppressing pollution were no longer applicable... ..."

"...Pollution also affects the mind, and I am less and less awake. There are always hallucinations, auditory hallucinations, and these symptoms exacerbate my degree of alienation. I kind of miss Tours, he always appears in the In my mind, I said that I want to make this dish and that dish..."

Cyril's heart sank, and he had a bad premonition.

He took a deep breath and continued to read.

"... When I woke up again, I found that the lower half of my body had turned into a thick black mist similar to that creature. It was bad. I tried to record this state during the limited waking time... Fortunately, I left Tours, otherwise that guy will definitely cry secretly every day..."

The handwriting on the parchment became more and more scribbled, as if the owner had lost the strength to write records.

Cyril needed to work hard to recognize what was written.

"... The alienation is getting worse and worse. Now I only have a body above the chest. After a while, my hands will not be able to continue recording. Although I have taken various measures, I still cannot control my body. The black mist is no longer part of my body. I only wake up for 5 minutes a day..."

"...In order to prevent myself from becoming a alienated creature, I will kill myself. If anyone who comes after me sees this, please spread all my records, and we must prevent the tragedy from happening!"

This was written on the last piece of parchment, which seemed to be stained with blood.

Cyril looked at Brewster's manuscript with a heavy heart.

They came too late. Before the plane war, the wizards who did not communicate with each other and explored alone did not know the news of the abyss.

It wasn't until the official invasion of the Abyss that the wizards had to sacrifice many sacrifices in exchange for information.

"Don't worry, I'll hand it over to the Wizarding Union, it's something they need to deal with."

Brian canceled the effect of the invisibility spell, and placed a comforting kiss on Cyril's forehead.

He made three copies of Brewster's manuscript and diary.

Then he took out the crystal ball, found something on it, chanted a spell silently and clicked, and sent a copy of it to the Wizards Union.

Brian handed another copy to Erlanger. These studies on abyssal creatures coincided with Erlanger's previous research and would be helpful to him.

The other copy was handed over to Cyril for collection.

"And Tours Auger! We have to get back to him!"

Cyril had been thinking about Brian's damaged body, and immediately took out the colorful little flower pot.

Brian and Cyril activated the teleportation item, the small flower pot, and returned to the cabin they left not long ago.

The colorful owl flew down slowly, with excitement on its fluffy round face: "Have you found Brewster?"

Even its old voice seemed more alive.

Cyril responded softly.

He lowered his eyes, instead of looking into the owl's shining eyes, he put the original manuscript of Brewster's diary in front of it.

"Ah! Brewster's familiar handwriting! It's been a long time since I saw it!"

Turs Auger's voice was a little excited, and Cyril was silent on the side.

After a while, Cyril heard heart-rending sobs.

"...Brewster hasn't tasted the new dishes I've researched yet...he hasn't come back to see the herb garden I carefully tidied up for him..."

Cyril glanced at the owl, feeling that its gorgeous and smooth feathers seemed to have lost its spirit.

"...As Senior Brewster expected, there was indeed a war of planes afterwards, and the creatures from the abyss severely injured the wizard..."

Looking at the dazed Turs Auger, Cyril couldn't help but speak out, explaining the situation in the Wizarding Continent afterwards.

"You will participate in the war against the abyss later, right?"

The owl raised its head and asked suddenly.

"of course."

Cyril nodded without thinking.

After he finished speaking, he subconsciously looked at Brian.

Brian's thin lips bent down, and his voice was magnetic and gentle: "Of course, the things that bullied my little rose, how can they let them go."

Cyril blushed, and gently scratched the back of Brian's hand with his fair fingers.

"Come on. I'll help you and repair your body."

As if the owl had finally made a decision, it flapped its wings and flew up, leading Cyril and the two to a laboratory.

Since Tours Ogg now only has a wisp of wizard will, most of the work can only be dictated, leaving Cyril and Brian to do it by themselves.

After they finished their preparations, Brian lay down on the drawn wizard formation.

Cyril's hands trembled slightly.

Tension and worry filled his heart.

What if the steps just went wrong?

This is not a magical pharmacy class that can be repeated. If something goes wrong, Brian will suffer more damage.

Turs Auger on the side is still making the final narration: "Repairing the soul is not an easy task. Your current soul is like a pot that was smashed and put together in a mess, and now you need to put it together carefully again .So, your soul must be persistent, the more persistent you are, the less likely it will be torn apart, but you will have the opportunity to reintegrate well."

Obsessed?

Brian looked at Cyril who was on the side, as if something had melted in his eyes.

His heart was once barren, but it regained its color because of planting a beautiful little rose.

I wanted Little Rose to be torn apart and destroyed when she grew into her best form, but she didn't expect to be tamed by him instead.

Listening to the owl's words, Cyril unconsciously felt his nasal cavity sore, and felt tears rushing straight to his eyes.

How painful it is to have a soul broken and then put back together again.

Brian took a deep look at Cyril, "Let's start.", he said to Tours Auger.

The owl's fluffy head shook slightly up and down, and an old voice began to chant complex and weird spells.

The witch array under Brian's body that absorbed various potions began to work, and a scarlet light glowed, piercing people's eyes.

His face also turned pale, and he felt the sense of tyranny and destructive desire in his heart rapidly rising and expanding, turbulent like the surface of a stormy sea.

In a trance, something seemed to break free from the shackles, agitated and ruthless, rampaging in his blood and body.

Unable to calm down, undisturbed, unrestrained.

However, his limbs seemed to be firmly fixed by something, unable to move.

But if Brian really wants to break free, there is no way.

It's just that he still holds on to his obsession - his little rose - amidst the waves of overwhelming pain.

This obsession seems to be deeply imprinted in the soul, and there is a hint of sweetness hidden in the pain.

Cyril gritted his teeth tightly, clenched his fingers, and tried hard not to make a sound to interfere with this crucial treatment.

It was as if a big stone was pressing on his heart, making it hard to breathe.

The heart seemed to be bit by bit by countless ants, and even the surrounding air seemed to smell like a bitter potion.

Cyril could only watch helplessly as the unbearable veins bulged on Brian's arms, the tormented look on his usually calm face, and the dark red rolling deep in his eyes.

The red light of the witch array scattered in all directions, and the surroundings were oppressive, and many items that were neatly placed were "crackling" to the ground.