vstars Chapter 670 Burnt Out
Chapter 670 Burnt Out
"So that's it."
John listened quietly, and the scattered memories in his mind immediately began to connect. A sense of familiarity spread rapidly like fine lines. This was clearly a replica of the future Eagle's Eclipse.
Skeleton Knight is comparable to Guts, Boyd is comparable to Griffith, Dana is comparable to Casca, and Flora is comparable to Shrek.
All confusion vanished instantly, and past doubts were completely dispelled. John looked up at the skeleton knight, his tone filled with genuine gratitude, without any unnecessary embellishment, only pure thanks:
"Thank you for telling me this. I will remember your kindness."
Flora's gaze swept lightly over the wall clock.
"It will be dawn soon outside. If you have any urgent matters in the future, just use that magic mirror to find me."
She spoke calmly, paused, and then added.
"Simply touch the mirror to see me; no other complicated actions are needed."
After speaking, she gave Shierqi a look, without giving any further instructions, and simply nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
Scherki immediately understood and silently walked to John and the skeleton knight's side, turning slightly to the side, ready to lead the way.
John nodded in agreement, keeping Flora's words in mind. He then followed Scherki's footsteps with the Skeleton Knight and turned to walk out of the Spirit Tree Mansion.
As I stepped out of the gate and into the surrounding woods, the space beneath my feet suddenly rippled slightly, the light and shadow around me abruptly distorted, and an invisible force quietly swept over me. The scene before me began to blur, and the trees and light and shadow intertwined into a chaotic mess.
In a short while, the distortion vanished, and their vision became clear again. The outline of the Spirit Tree Pavilion had disappeared, and the two were now standing on the outskirts of the forest, with dense trees behind them and an open path in front of them.
John didn't linger and took the lead in walking towards the church, with the skeleton knight silently following behind.
Upon arriving at the church entrance, John pushed the door open and entered. The little light beings inside immediately noticed the commotion and gathered around the entrance.
John raised his hand gently, and the little luminous beings immediately quieted down, stopping what they were doing and turning their gazes to him. He gently placed the little luminous being he had brought back on the edge of the table in the corner, then turned to the other little luminous beings, speaking calmly and methodically, his tone carrying an unmistakable seriousness:
“You will take turns going deep into the forest to find the large oak tree with the mark. Passing through the oak tree will take you to the Spirit Tree House. Once there, help Ms. Flora restore her magic.”
The little angels swayed their halos of light, as if nodding vigorously in response.
After leaving the church, John raised his hand and gathered a small amount of magical power. His fingertips gently traced the church door panel, and pale golden light patterns slowly spread along the wood grain, instantly weaving into fine lines that locked the door, isolating it from outside interference.
After doing all this, he turned and left the church, heading towards his Mondmasan.
With the help of the local Exile Order, John evaded the guards and patrols along the way and returned to his residence quietly at around five o'clock without attracting any attention.
Despite his tireless journey, he showed no signs of fatigue. He quickly straightened his slightly disheveled clothes, then went straight to the bedside, lay down, and closed his eyes to rest.
After an unknown amount of time, John got out of bed, raised his hand to rub his temples, and ran his fingertips across his forehead. There was no trace of drowsiness left. His gaze unconsciously swept over the clock on the bedside table. The hands were pointing to just before six o'clock, only an hour after he had gone to bed.
In total, he slept for less than an hour, but he didn't feel tired at all. He was no longer the same as before. His internal strength was enough to keep him awake for a long time. Even if he stayed up all night, he would not feel sleepy. For him, sleep was more like a short rest than a necessity.
After dressing, washing up, and having his meal, John got up and walked out of the dining room, heading straight for the entrance of the mansion.
As soon as he arrived at the door, the waiting carriage was already prepared. When the coachman saw him come out, he immediately stepped forward and respectfully lifted the carriage curtain.
John nodded slightly, bent down and sat in the carriage. The driver lowered the curtain, turned back to the driver's seat, waved the reins, and the carriage slowly moved towards the city hall.
The scenery along the way flashed past the car window. Scattered pedestrians gradually appeared on the streets. The sunlight on the horizon became more and more obvious. The night completely faded away, and a new day had begun.
When the carriage arrived at the city hall, the driver stopped the carriage and stepped forward again to lift the curtain.
John bent down and got out of the car, standing at the bottom of the steps in front of the city hall. He looked up in the direction of the entrance and waited quietly for King Midland to arrive.
The guards around them stood solemnly and upright, without the slightest sign of slackness, and the air was filled with a sense of solemnity.
Before long, the sound of a carriage approaching came from afar, growing closer and closer. John looked up and saw that King Midland's carriage was heading this way, the sound of its wheels rolling over the road was exceptionally clear.
The carriage stopped, the driver lifted the curtain, and King Midland stepped out of the carriage. John's gaze fell on him, and he could clearly see that the other man was not in good condition. There was a lingering weariness between his brows, his eyes were somewhat unfocused, and he lacked his usual energy. Even his gait carried an undeniable heaviness, clearly indicating that he had not rested well last night and had stayed up most of the night.
John was secretly surprised and couldn't help but ponder in his heart:
"It can't be that bad. I've stayed in the special embassy before, how could I be so tired?"
The thought flashed through his mind, but he did not voice his doubts. He simply watched as King Midland approached and nodded slightly as a greeting.
"Good day, King Midland."
King Midland nodded to him, his tone tinged with barely perceptible weariness. Without further ado, he simply said:
"Good day, King Heldran, let's go inside and talk."
John responded and then walked alongside King Midland toward the city hall, the two of them side by side, to begin the new day's meeting.
Meanwhile, inside the church John had visited, Jill stood guard at a table in the corner, her gaze fixed on the little luminous figure that John had brought to the Hall of Spirit Trees. The aura around the little luminous figure had dimmed considerably, lacking its usual brightness and exuding a weak and feeble air, as if it might be extinguished at any moment, making it particularly heartbreaking to look at.
"What...what's wrong with you...?"
Jill's heart tightened, and she immediately stepped forward, reaching out to grab the little luminous figure. She was filled with anxiety, but dared not pull too hard, for fear of disturbing it or adding to its burden.
The little luminous figure swayed its aura with difficulty, as if responding to Jill's concerns and indicating that it was temporarily unharmed.
Then, it slowly moved toward the edge of the table, and with the help of its own meager strength, gently grasped the charcoal pencil on the table.
Its strength was almost gone, and the action of holding the charcoal pencil was particularly strenuous, as if it had used up all its strength.
It used all its strength to slowly trace the charcoal on the table, leaving faint marks.
Each stroke was exceptionally slow; after each stroke, he would pause for a moment to gather his strength, and the halo around him would dim further, clearly indicating that he was overdrawing his own power.
After finishing writing, it could no longer hold on, and the charcoal pencil slipped from my hand and fell onto the table with a soft sound. The halo around it also dimmed instantly, and its outline was almost invisible.
On the desktop, there was a very short sentence:
"It burned out."