Magician in Type-Moon

Page 322

That is, the place where the "baby" receives the "light".

This is a slightly open area.

In the center stands a dilapidated pedestal.

I don't know if she's an angel.

The statue, along with its pedestal, was completely destroyed, with fragments scattered everywhere. It was barely recognizable that the statue was originally about the size of a human.

But there were no mysterious traces.

However, Orange and the Second Prince were not discouraged.

They touched the ground cautiously.

The forecourt was carefully maintained, but the forest area looked almost neglected—the Second Prince could see slight unevenness in the damp soil and grass.

"They're footprints..."

"Looks like it's alive." Orange nodded; she had also noticed the footprints.

She then pulled a spider from her pocket that resembled a child's toy, made of metal tubes.

"Convert".

Orange gave commands to the puppet spider.

Her fingers seemed to glow for a moment.

In an instant, life was infused into it.

The mechanical spider jumped down from Orange's palm and began to distinguish between magical wavelengths and residue.

Soon, the mechanical spider began to walk in a certain direction.

The Second Prince and Orange followed behind.

As they walked through the forest, the moonlight illuminated them once more.

The front yard, adorned with several kinds of flowers, was bathed directly in moonlight.

This is perhaps a night beloved by many poets and magicians.

The two walked in silence, and the moon followed their steps.

The only sound was the faint rustling of footsteps on the weeds and the earth, as if indicating their destination.

Before we knew it, the stage had returned to the city of stripping away.

After walking about a third of the way along the castle perimeter, the Second Prince suddenly tensed up.

In an instant, the spider that had stepped onto the ground was torn apart.

The darkness trembled, as if trampling on the broken body.

In the shadows, hidden by the castle and untouched by moonlight, lurks an even deeper darkness.

It is impossible to discern its "form" with the naked eye. The other party is as silent as death itself. It is clearly present, but its presence cannot be felt.

Only a pair of red eyes burned in the darkness.

"—Ask the name of the angel."

The beast was just repeating the same phrase.

"Gabriel"

Orange tried to answer.

"If you can't answer, then take it away."

The shadow rose up smoothly.

It's an unusual phenomenon, like a two-dimensional object rising up in a three-dimensional space.

They could see it clearly now; this time, the two sensed a figure that resembled a wild beast, crawling on all fours.

Just from the mechanical spider just now, one can understand how ferocious its raised claws are; they would surely tear human flesh and bones to shreds like paper.

"That's the spirit core of a heroic spirit? It was actually extracted and transferred to this beast..."

Orange looked at the dark figure and shook her head in disbelief. Several runes had appeared beneath her feet without her noticing.

Boom! -- A burst of white flames erupted.

The flames that erupted from the orange turned into towering ice pillars in an instant.

They bombarded the unknown beast.

In an instant, the beast roared.

As if awakened by that roar, the air surrounding the place suddenly changed.

Several sharp blades, tearing through the airflow, erupted from the beast's body and collided directly with the ice pillar that seemed to pierce the sky.

The startling sound shattered the silence of the night.

Startled awake, Grey grabbed the cage and rushed to the scene of the incident.

The beast standing there seemed to sense a threat, and taking advantage of the ice dance's disorientation, it leaped to the side and landed in the corridor outside the city walls.

The scent of the wild beast vanished.

Chapter 376 Far East Affairs 4k

Inside the Thousand World Tree Castle, which overlooks the city, a man in one of the rooms is gazing out the window.

A certain determination quietly burned in the eyes of the man gazing at the silent city.

In his lavishly decorated office.

A metallic scraping sound came from behind.

It's not hard to tell that it's the sound of wheelchair wheels.

An elderly man with white hair was sitting in a wheelchair. A young man who looked like an assistant was pushing the wheelchair from behind, but he didn't make eye contact with him.

The old man's deeply wrinkled appearance resembled a mummy more than a magician. Even by a conservative estimate, he was probably over eighty years old.

The ten fingers, resembling withered branches, are adorned with different rings, the beauty of which further accentuates the years that have passed on the old man's face.

"Mr. Orlock." The man by the window turned around at the creaking of the wheels and greeted the old man in the wheelchair.

“Danick Preston Yggdomirenia, the patriarch of the Yggdful Tree clan.”

The old man uttered a whisper that sounded like hellfire.

"I never imagined that I would be reduced to working with someone of such lowly blood as you."

"What an honor."

The man called Danic seemed to accept it as if a cool breeze was blowing on him.

The old magician tapped the armrest of his wheelchair with his index finger in frustration.

Orlock dug at the leather with his withered fingertips and raised his gaze.

"So your next plan is to abandon this fertile land of Europe and head to that remote corner of the Far East?"

Danic nodded:

"While it is true, as you have said, that the Far East, being a remote region, is far inferior to London in terms of both the products of spiritual lands and the scale of mystery."

But the next second, he curled the corners of his mouth:

"However, in recent years, the miracles accomplished by the rituals in that area, which the clock tower had overlooked for hundreds of years, are now on everyone's lips."

"Hoo-hoo," the old man named Orlock, the authority on butterfly magic, let out a hollow laugh.

"Could it be that you intend to lead a group of extraordinary Heroic Spirits to participate in the Holy Grail War? If my information is correct, the next Holy Grail War should not be held for another year, right?"

"I do have that idea, although I don't know if it will be considered a violation."

Danic smiled, turned around and walked to the liquor cabinet next to him, taking out a bottle of unidentified homemade fruit wine and two whiskey glasses.

He gently placed the glass of liquid, filled with wine, on the shelf next to the old man's wheelchair, took a small sip himself, and said:

"The reason for this trip to the Far East is that I really want to make preparations for the upcoming Holy Grail War in advance. I think there are quite a few magician families with this idea."

Old man Orlock shook his head upon hearing this:

"Things aren't as simple as you think. My information is that the next Holy Grail War will be subject to strong oversight by the Association and the Holy Church. The number of participants will be limited, and even the chosen relics will be subject to strict scrutiny."

The old man paused halfway through his speech, took a sip, and savored the taste in his mouth, closing his eyes in a relaxed manner as if he were at home. He then continued:

"Your idea is nothing more than to use the Heroic Spirits that have already been summoned to illegally participate in this Holy Grail War. But the consequences of doing so will not only be that you will be attacked by the other participants, but even the supervisors dispatched by the Association and the Church will not tolerate you."

“I understand.” Danic put down his glass. “That’s why I want to get my hands on the Great Grail there ahead of time.”

"Oh? You've already seized it? Launching a blitzkrieg while everyone's attention is still on that Grand Order decision that hasn't even been held yet... That's a Nazi mentality, Danic, you're still a dog that can't change its nature."

The old man, amused, tilted his wrinkled neck, stroked the honey-colored armrest, gave a brief assessment, and then asked:

"But that shouldn't be your main objective at this stage, right? What is it that drives a coward like you to risk leaving this tortoise shell like this? After all, even the Holy Grail is irrelevant to our current goal..."

"So you still found out..." Danic chuckled. "It was just because I was forced by the divine decree issued by my lord. You should have noticed the aura that erupted in a certain region of the Far East a couple of days ago. This is what my lord needs, and it is also the necessary thing to complete our plan."

“That evil god? I see… In that case, I can understand.” The old man’s eyes, hidden in wrinkles, narrowed further as he stared intently at Danic and murmured.

“I have already dispatched thirty magicians specializing in ‘hunting’, so would you like to come along? Whether it’s the Holy Grail or that thing that can help my lord recover, if we obtain it, your wish will also be fulfilled.”

Danic looked at the old man, showing his determination, and extended an invitation to him.

"------"

The old man sighed. The temptation of that wish was indeed great, but still...

"I will go if necessary..."

"Is there something keeping you tied up in London?"

Danic was somewhat puzzled; in his view, no one should be able to refuse such an invitation.

Furthermore, the old man in front of them had already expressed his desire to get a share of the profits, but still refused the joint operation.

The reason must lie in the other person's private affairs.