The golden red autumn leaves are not as thick as the thick curtains, and the early morning sun shines down early.
Nemo opened his eyes with a little effort. He was lying on the thick fallen leaves, and the gray-black robe had long since turned into large pieces of rags scattered around.
The woods were quiet and silent, and Nemo didn't know what time they tossed them into a groggy sleep. At that time, he was too tired to lift his fingers, so he threw a cleaning spell hastily, and he didn't even have time to mend his clothes.
But there is no benefit if you don't make it up.
Oliver's head was resting on his chest, and he was still asleep. The weight of the other party's weight was reassuring, and the dry and warm skin felt quite good. Nemo gently stroked his lover's back with his right hand - the scratch wound on Oliver's back was no longer bleeding, it was only slightly red and swollen at the moment, with a dry tan blood scab protruding from the center of the trace.
Nemo doesn't plan to treat them.
At present, Oliver has no way to leave marks on him, but Nemo is very keen on it. Hickeys, bite marks, minor cuts made by fingernails when out of control. He hoped that they would cover up the ugly scars left by the wither castle, thus dispelling the remaining darkness.
Unlike before, even in the craziest moments, Nemo could feel Oliver's subtle restraint and caution. And last night, in the long darkness—because the environment was too absurd, or the despair brought about by the prophecy really pierced his emotions. Both of them started with a bit more weight, and at the same time abandoned the last restraint.
In the beginning, they were more venting than gentle. It was like tearing a rip in the emotion that was about to explode, letting the poisonous pus and blood spill out.
Then anger and despair gradually turned into nostalgia and sadness, and finally turned into mutual demands for abandoning reason.
Bitter and heavy emotions mixed with loving touches, like unsweetened absinthe, that unique numbness has not dissipated until now. Nemo should have full control over his body, but last night he couldn't even control his breathing.
Oliver's ability to learn is quite amazing. The small movements that once made him uncomfortable, did not appear this time.
It seemed that his mimicry was in place - no physical injury or blood loss, just the constant tingling and pleasure left his brain with a searing blank, almost dizzy.
This way of decompression may be good, Nemo slowly rubbed the skin on the back of Oliver's neck with his palm, thinking seriously.
In the brighter morning light, Oliver finally woke up with a comfortable grunt. He wiped his eyes, then propped up his upper body, kissed all the way along Nemo's chest, and lightly bit his lover's throat.
"Good morning, Nemo," he murmured a little vaguely.
"Good morning." Nemo grabbed the soft hair on the back of the other's head and pecked the other's lips. "Oli, I was… sorry last night, but I don't regret getting mad at you."
"Me too." Oliver smiled, "I wish I could keep arguing with you like this."
Nemo laughed, he let go of Ollie's hair and patted the back of his lover's head briskly: "Okay, get up."
"Actually, I thought about it carefully."
Nemo patched up his clothes with the shadows and put them on neatly. The neatly dressed Oliver spoke again with a serious tone: "If the prophecy is really describing the last hero, and that happens to be me... The one who kills you in the end is destined to be me, maybe that's not bad."
Nemo paused.
"That means I caught up with you in the end, lost you, and fulfilled my promise to you with my own hands." Oliver said softly, and buckled the last buckle on the black light armor.
The forest in the morning was filled with a little mist, the soft sunlight shone on the ominous black armor, and the helmet transformed from the skull of the earth dragon was painted golden red by the brilliance of the rising sun. The smile on Oliver's face was genuine this time—bitter and soft, without the slightest bit of rigidity.
"If one of us is destined to be left alone, it's fine with me."
The woody and humid air of the forest filled his lungs, and Nemo felt like he was drowning in the wet morning. It took him a long time to regain his breath, and returned a similar smile to the other party. "…I won't leave until then, Ollie."
After saying that, he took a step forward, and then his expression distorted slightly. Oliver raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, I'll add two points," Nemo said dryly, rubbing his waist. "First of all, your technique is passable - I prefer this method to relieve stress rather than quarrel. Second, I have a little backache, don't mind."
This time Oliver accidentally laughed, but his face was still a little red.
It's just that when the two of them packed up and rushed to the side of the horse, neither of them could laugh.
"Actually, I've been concerned about it for a long time, Ollie." Nemo's eyes were a little dull. "Don't you think it's looking at you very deeply?"
"I feel the same way. But this situation should have nothing to do with its eyes... It doesn't matter?" Oliver responded in a sleepwalking voice.
Nemo's protection formation and rein reinforcement were naturally no problem, and the horse was not killed by the beasts or demons that haunted at night. Right now, the black military horse is leisurely nibbling at the grass by the tree, looking in a good mood.
… if ignoring its body through the trunk.
It wasn't stuck in the trunk, the black horse even took a few steps from time to time, and the trunk seemed to go straight through its belly. But there was no skin cracking, no sawdust everting, the horse's body and the sturdy tree trunk were more like two colored phantoms superimposed, and they did not interfere with each other.
The reins were still firmly tied to the tree trunk, and the scene was a little weird for a while.
Noticing the approach of the two, the dark horse raised his head and continued to stare at Oliver with a very serious and deep expression.
"Can you communicate with it, Nemo?"
Oliver took a step closer and patted the dark horse's long face, the roughness and warmth of his hand made him sure that this was not an illusion. So he swallowed at the tree stuck in Mali, then turned to Nemo: "I remember you could communicate with Bluebird and Catbeard."
"The blue bird itself is wise. Catbeard is my family, but its thinking is not very clear." Nemo stepped forward hesitantly, "This horse... I don't know if it has its own thoughts."
Saying that, Nemo also stretched out his hand and tried to touch the horse, but he could only touch the air. The white and slender fingers passed directly through the slender face, and the fingertips came out from the other side of the horse's face.
"..." Oliver was awkwardly silent for a few seconds, "I think it has its own thoughts, it doesn't seem to want to be touched by you."
Nemo, in shock, stretched his other hand to the horse's neck, and passed through likewise unhindered. Hands immersed in the hot air, it felt amazing—but before Nemo could try a few more times, the horse turned and turned its butt towards Nemo, with a faint tendency to slap it.
"... I'll try to communicate with it, but I can't guarantee success." Nemo coughed twice, "After all, it's not my family, I may only get the simplest information."
Half a minute passed.
"It doesn't want to talk to me," Nemo admitted bitterly.
"Hey, what's the matter with you?" Oliver patted the horse's hot neck with his hand. "Nimo won't hurt you, I promise."
The dark horse snorted.
"..." Oliver put down his hand very slowly, his expression a little stiff.
"what's wrong?"
"I... uh, it just seemed to take the initiative to say that it likes me and doesn't like you."
"… Then it's pretty obvious. Wait, Ollie, how did you know that, don't… wait a minute."
Nemo picked up the staff, and countless dark red filaments drilled out from the black bone ball at the top of the staff. Symbols and calculations that Oliver couldn't read were intertwined - Nemo seemed to be calculating something.
After counting the points, he opened his mouth thoughtfully: "A creature born with the ability to use abyss magic will give me pure power almost every moment... Now you know Jesse's identity, the same reason, Species that use surface magic will also give power to Jesse. Ollie, I don't know how it was before, it should be right now."
The mysterious formula written on the filament in the air disappeared, replaced by two circles, the larger one with "Nimo" inside and the smaller one with "Jessie" inside. They are all surrounded by innumerable dots of light—two groups of light dots, each of which is connected to two circles by a throbbing filament.
"I can understand." Oliver tried to ignore the terrifying level of the subject.
"You know, some creatures are not magical." Nemo took a deep breath and explained patiently. "The next thing is my personal guess."
"One of them has a very short lifespan, a docile personality, and not too outstanding intelligence... This is also the case in the abyss. In general, you can understand that 'the benefits of granting magic are not as good as consumption'. These creatures multiply and change. The ethnic group has nothing to do with us, unless there is a new species with good talent."
"Well, I can keep up here." Oliver pushed away the arched horse's nose with one hand.
"There is nothing special about the other type, and it is usually domesticated by other species. With sufficient energy, Jesse and I should not worry about this little bit."
"For example, let me think about it, like Mr. Fuller who successfully domesticated the dangerous beast Leiguang Sheep into a Fuller goat?"
"Well." Nemo nodded. "In general, the magic circuit is like some kind of special organ. We didn't respond, and those species never had a chance to use it. Then as they multiply, the circuit will gradually disappear. These two species, they are 'unowned'."
"But what does that have to do with the horse?"
"Ordinary horses are also unowned," Nemo said cautiously. "It's not supposed to have magical talents, but it's using some kind of magic. Ollie... Can you feel anything in it? I You mean, except for its eyes?"
"Furry." Oliver replied stiffly, pressing his hand on the horse's head.
"…Is there anything else? You close your eyes and feel it… God, I see what Jesse means, this kind of thing is really hard to describe."
"There's a flickering spot of light, and it's hard to articulate the feeling. No, maybe it's because I haven't had breakfast yet, and my eyes are a little dazzled—"
"That's it, keep it like this!"
Nemo concentrated and looked at the horses. An extremely weak force drifted away from the horse, pointing directly at Oliver.
"Oli, I have good news and bad news, which do you want to hear first?"
"Okay one." Oliver still closed his eyes.
"At present, you have more ways to catch up with me in terms of strength. Before the Withering Castle stripped you from my magic system, your strength broke away from my instinctive suppression and exceeded a certain standard. Now you have it like us. , er, the ability to collect the 'magic tax' - you must have unintentionally transformed that horse on the battlefield and turned it into your kin."
After a few seconds of pause, Nemo continued awkwardly: "As for the bad one. Ollie, if this story gets out, everyone will know that your original Pope...was a horse."
"… "
Three days later.
Pledo is located on the south side of Garland, a small and beautiful country that is like spring all year round. At its junction with Garland, there is a huge city where Hatfield, the holy site of Ruddism, is located.
Although the world is chaotic, Pledo has always been safe and sound. It is small enough, has no military advantages in terrain, no special minerals or specialties to be envied, and has always been self-sufficient by simple commerce and agriculture.
It is such a terribly ordinary country, neither too poor to be turbulent nor too rich to be rich, but also lacking in ambition. As soon as it encounters a war, it quickly jumps out to declare its neutrality, and then locks its borders tightly.
Can be said to be a real tasteless.
Considering the position of the mercenary guild, there is no better place to set up a headquarters than here.
In the basement of the mercenary guild headquarters, Della Lenien made himself a cup of coffee and poured sugar cubes into it one by one. As an intelligence-gathering demon by nature, this is a perfect playground, a lavish, never-ending dinner party.
His body has been working here for decades, and he has long since lost his relatives. Even if his behavior is abnormal, it will not arouse anyone's suspicion. It was the least bothersome of almost all his bodies.
If you insist on dissatisfaction, it is probably because this body is too old and the magic power is low, which is very inconvenient to use. He has taken a fancy to the knowledge and information in the old man's mind, and his weakness is also a weakness, and it is not a big problem. This body works here, lives here, and has countless intelligence and information at your fingertips.
This is enough to make the sage of the abyss happy.
Although the female professor of Clementine College is younger and has a lot of information around her, she still has to deal with a group of annoying students and control a delirious husband. In the end, there are still a lot of unnecessary troubles.
It's a pity that he just drank two sips of tea today, and was enjoying the feeling of the sweet and greasy liquid flowing down his throat, so he choked himself completely—
"Long time no see, Delarion."
Nemo Wright greeted in an unpleasant tone. Oliver Ramon was standing beside him with a very standard but not much warm polite smile on his face.
"We're here to trade, and I want to ask you the way—how do I get to the 'butcher shop'?"