Lord of the Silver Crow

Indeed, Yago does not know who the original owner of this cognitive field is, nor is he sure that his observations are correct, but he does not know whether he has been deceived or misled.

Including the "Master Lu" that I saw before.

However, he also had to pay attention.

After all, those circumstances, those about the "Glory Empire", the scene that "Edgeworth" guided him to observe, could not be acts for no reason.

So... why?

Yagos pondered this question, wandering in the Dead Sea again, following the direction of the power of the silver blood that was affected by him, and wandering toward the location of the next page fragment.

.......

Before the tombstones, the bard sat quietly on the pile of bones like a rock, looking at the words on the tombstones.

Just like when he came here last time, the text on the tombstone is still so clear.

However, the bard's eyes were still as indifferent as before.

As if indifferent to everything.

One after another, the dead birds swept across the sky, and the cavities in the body swept through the ear-piercing tones.

However, with the bard's palm plucking the strings, it seemed unusually in harmony.

It's like a funeral song.

It was at this moment, the moment his palm on the front of the harp stopped moving, he looked to the side.

The mist fluctuated slightly, and a little girl in black appeared in his field of vision.

The corner of the poet's mouth raised a smile:

"How about, have you found what you want?"

"No." The little girl, Betty still looks indifferent with nothing to do with her, "Neither her or his cognition has been shattered."

"Even the Secret Guardian can't put them together completely."

Hearing this sentence, the poet smiled:

"This is the evil done by your wizard, isn't it?"

As he said, he seemed to notice something and murmured to himself:

"'Evil'? This word, no, the meaning of this word is very good, it can be added to my poems."

His sudden self-talking did not make Little Betty show any mood swings, she just glanced at the poet faintly:

"But I am not a wizard."

Hearing this sentence, the poet laughed, and the entire sky, the flying trajectory of the countless birds of death changed a little, and the entire mist-shrouded ground echoed with the same tone as the poet’s laughter. :

"Isn't a wizard? Do you think I don't know what the Secret Guardian is?"

A pair of pupils of the poet, at this moment, become hollow.

Even the eyeballs in it turned into mist and dissipated.

Looking at that hollow eye socket, the little Betty dressed in black has no expression.

She looked at the poet and said:

"Do you think you are the son of that age?"

The moment this sentence sounded, the poet was stunned.

In the hollow eye sockets, the mist slowly gathered to form eyeballs.

With inexplicable emotions, the poet stood up and walked to a tombstone:

"Yes, that's right."

"Everything in that era has died out with the demise of the wizard."

"Sorcerers, gods, professionals... everything is gone."

With a little perplexity and an emotion that soon settled down, he leaned on the tombstone, and slowly moved his right hand toward the harp in his hand.

In the sky, one after another, the dead birds changed their flight trajectory again with the plucking of his strings.

Little Betty watched this scene silently, her gaze passing over the tombstone.

The ambiguous text, engraved on the tombstone, formed a word:

"...Angus..."

Judging from the position of the word, this word is the middle name. For wizards and nobles, the position of this word is the weaker side of the father's or mother's family.

Little Betty has no interest in this.

There are too many tombstones of this kind in this endless Wuhai Cemetery.

Even for her, as a member of the "secret guard", she doesn't know who this tombstone came from. ???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????.?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

I don't know who is the unforgettable deceased in his memory.

The dead, in themselves, have no tombstones.

The person who is not memorized is the same as non-existent.

But, what if you write it down?

Isn’t it impossible to survive intact?

Just like myself.....

Just like all the keepers.

Little Betty did not turn her head reluctantly, only the names of people who are remembered and missed will appear in this cemetery.

This...

Real cemetery.

The moment her black dress disappeared into the sea of ​​fog, there was no wave of waves in this sea of ​​fog.

It seemed that she had never been here before, or even existed.

And the poet did not look in the direction where she disappeared, still plucking the harp without strings.

The dead bird in the sky changes its flight trajectory time and time again.

Silent performances and silent magical music "reverberate" in this endless cemetery.

Until not knowing how long, in this Wuhai Cemetery without any time reference, the poet turned his head and looked at the tombstone:

"Indeed, what he said is correct, they are all fakes."

"It doesn't matter if it's you, me, or that one."

"I don't hate crows, really, I'm trying to make myself like them."

"Even if you die, you will take them with you."

"It's a pity, their eyes are too much less than yours."

"I hope I remember correctly, you should have a lot of eyes."

"Wizards are all idiots."

"Although professionals can at best be regarded as illegitimate children with impure blood, and gods are orthodox children, there is no doubt that the moment their power is incorporated into the body by any means, it represents all the mother receives Influence, they will also be implicated."

"Obviously it is most likely not to be affected, but in the end it became the first to be affected."

"It's stupid."

"However, I have to envy, those paranoid lunatics, after being affected, last longer than professionals."

"It's just that they played a bad move at the end."

"They killed the savior brought by their mother and the savior they had caught."

"Savior? It's really annoying word, but it is indeed a wonderful world, a mediocre world without extraordinary power? All creatures are ants?"

In the muttering to himself, the poet's palm once again plucked the harp without strings:

"Is he born without a god, or is the **** dead?"

"No wonder wizards are interested."

"It's a pity that the idiot did stupid things and brought stupid consequences."

"But it's not bad."

The poet kept playing the stringless harp with a smile on his face:

"Everything will come to an end, no matter how hard you struggle, you can't change it."

In the air, the chirping sounds of dead birds seemed to have reached the highest point at this moment, reaching the highest peak of this silent hymn.