Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 394: An inescapable whirlpool?
The Thirteen Hermits?
Hearing this strange yet slightly familiar name, a hint of thought emerged in Ling'er's eyes.

The werewolf who called himself Gundaruf noticed his reaction and grinned, his sharp teeth flashing a cold light: "Since you know Rochelle, you must have heard of this name from him. Three years ago, the walker from the Fertile Soil Sect came to the island and took away the spirituality of the Great Swamp. I invited him to join our great cause, but he refused."

At this point, he sneered, his tone quite disdainful: "Animists always think highly of themselves, and they don't respect anyone except the spirits they believe in. But now is not the era when Saint Tumi guided the fire of human reason. The extraordinary people who drank the magic potion and restrained the erosion have long been reduced to the dregs of history under the glory of the magician. Their pride is like an old wolf that is about to die, but fantasizes that it can still rule the wolf pack. It is ridiculous."

Lingge remained silent and did not respond.

He did hear the name of the Thirteen Hermits from Rochelle.

It was a conversation in the Lubeon Museum in Nimsher, and the changes in the three major systems of the mysterious world were closely related to human history. In the war in which the magic system wanted to replace the magic system, Solomon, known as the "Father of Modern Magic", rebelled against the Modern Magic Research Society, joined the Truth Society, and gathered the power of magicians in an attempt to fight against the trend of the times, but suffered a disastrous defeat due to the stubbornness of Grand Duke Mainz.

It was this great magician Solomon who, on behalf of the Truth Society, united with the other twelve forces to establish this alliance of magic organizations and secret societies, which has been going on for more than 700 years. According to Gundalufo's description, it seems that this alliance is still active in the dark, unknown to people. Rochelle was only one step away from joining them, but he finally adhered to his beliefs and did not cross the final bottom line.

Despite the outcome of adhering to one's faith, the result is still not so satisfactory.

The city covered by the blizzard, the ugly evil god born in the snow, and those people who died in the disaster and could never open their eyes again... Thinking of this, Ling'er's expression became slightly gloomy.

This was exactly the reaction Gundaruf wanted to see. His eyes were unabashedly aggressive towards the young man, and his voice was as sharp as a wolf's claws when he spoke: "I heard that Rochelle is dead. He tried to provoke the combined power of the Order, and was eventually killed by the cannon of the Scarlet Nightgate. This was the stupidest way to die... I originally thought so, but now I smell the death that should have belonged to him from you. So, did you actually kill him? This is actually a very interesting thing."

"Is this your answer too?"

"Uh." Alice rolled her eyes. "Isn't this nonsense? Do living people need revenge?"

"I don't understand. Anyway, it has nothing to do with Lingge."

"No." Alice said, "I guess what he meant was: I don't want to talk to you."

He laughed in a low voice. "The interesting thing is that I can see Rochelle's shadow in you. I often mistakenly think that you are the same person. I guess he said the same thing to you. In this case, why don't two identical or similar people stand on the same front, but raise swords against each other and kill each other? Or is it because of the similarity that they must kill each other, just like only one wolf cub can survive in a litter of wolf cubs, and only one alpha wolf can exist in a pack of fierce wolves? Humans are actually not much different from aliens, so sometimes I disdain human thoughts, but sometimes I want to explore their hearts, and these two decisions are just impulses on a whim. Now, tell me the answer, human."

Before Ling Ge could speak, Alice couldn't help but asked, "What does it have to do with you? Not to mention that the guy named Rochelle was not killed by Ling Ge, so what if he was? Do you want to avenge him?"

"After all, sometimes the living have more hatred than the dead."

He waved his claws at Lingge, and each sharp dagger was reflecting a pale cold light. The gesture did not seem to be asking for an answer, but rather a provocation: "Why did you want to kill Rochelle?"

Gundaruf looked at the young man who had remained silent, and the latter shook his head.

"Revenge?" Gundaruf shook his head: "I have no interest in revenge for the dead."

"Do you want me to guess a riddle, human?" Gundalufu's smile was ugly and ferocious, and there was no smile in his eyes: "Then I guess your answer is: no."

But they all guessed wrong.

What young people really mean is -

"Rochelle and I are not the same person." He stared at the huge werewolf in front of him, who looked like an ancient ferocious beast, and said word by word: "Your premise is wrong." If even the premise is wrong, it is naturally impossible to reach the correct conclusion.

This answer was obviously not what Gundaruf expected. He narrowed his eyes slightly, and his pupils became cold as if he was going to hunt. There was a chilling murderous intent and brutality in them, proving that the werewolf in front of him was not as casual and open-minded as he pretended to be. On the contrary, wolves are savage, cruel and petty animals. The prey they target cannot escape even if they flee to the ends of the earth.

"You are very interesting." His cold voice echoed in the corners of the gloomy streets, making people feel very empty and dead: "Solomon should like you. I heard that he has been looking for a suitable student to inherit his knowledge, wealth and power, and also inherit our cause. Perhaps you have such qualifications. Come and join us, human."

He stretched out his wolf claws, his tone unquestionable. Similarly, this action was not an invitation, but a declaration: "You are so poor now that you haven't even crossed the threshold of demigod. In the mysterious realm, you are as small as a bug. But Solomon was a great magician seven hundred years ago. He will help you find the right path. The wolf cubs of Silver Moon also need humans like you as companions, as brave and good at fighting as the wolf cavalry under Neoesu in the past."

The implication is that if you join the Thirteen Hermits, it is equivalent to handing your life and death into the hands of a man called Solomon; or being forced to mix with the werewolves of Silver Moon. Not to mention that werewolves are notoriously alien monsters, the fact that they dared to attack the Temple of Judgment alone makes people feel that this is not a very peaceful organization.

Ling Ge shook his head decisively: "Excuse me, I refuse."

"..."

Gundaruf did not get angry. He moved his claws slightly, and a sound that made one's teeth ache was made, as if he was twisting steel. His eyes passed from Linger and Alice to Saint Shalia, who remained silent. He could see that these three people were not pretending to be fearless towards him. They did have some trump cards that could fight against him, but it could not be Linger, a magic apprentice who was only at Sequence 9, and it was even less likely to be the strange-looking holy relic in Alice's hand. He did not smell any danger from the holy relic, and as a werewolf, Gundaruf obviously trusted his nose more.

Then the only possibility is this mysterious blue-haired girl. The magic she used just now was indeed strange. Gundaluf had never seen such magic before. He even felt that even the founder of the Thirteen Hermits, the man known as the "Father of Modern Magic", would not be able to recognize the origin of this magic.

Is it necessary to fight them here? Just treat it as a test, and it would be best if we could teach them a lesson. Otherwise, it might bring some unpredictable variables to the future plans, and he hated variables the most. Although Solomon once said that the unknown is the charm of mysticism, Gundaruf refused to accept this charm. He only accepted things that could be torn apart by his claws and bitten off by his teeth.

The atmosphere gradually solidified, and the night was so dark that you could hear a pin drop. The panicked and screaming crowd on the street and the two sides confronting each other in the dark alley seemed to be separated by two worlds. Suddenly, a violent and shocking roar broke the dead silence here. Everyone raised their heads almost at the same time and looked in the direction of the sound. They saw that more than a dozen huge airships were slowly slowing down and landing in the upper area. In the hanging compartments below, hundreds of silver-white magic cannons were dissipating heat. Countless highly concentrated magic particles drifted from the dark muzzles, like smoke after the war cooled down.

It seems that the roar just now came from a salvo of these magic cannons.

The amplitude and frequency of the city's shaking were weakening, and it seemed that the battle was nearing its end. As for who would be the winner, just look at the re-shining sun - the bright light of the sky sprinkled on every dark corner, the elevators on the track started to rumble, and cheers and cries broke out among the panicked crowd. The chaos lasted less than an hour, but it felt like a century had passed. It was long, painful and unforgettable.

Fortunately, in the end, this ancient city regained its glory.

Gundaruf retracted his gaze and gave Lingge and the others a ferocious and provocative smile: "What a pity, the fun ends here."

"But this is not the end, because the great Neo-Esu once told us that the failure of a battle is only paving the way for the victory of the next battle."

"I pray that you enjoy your life on this island, human."

"Or, like me, step into this vortex."

He finally said something silently, then he exerted force with his feet, and his huge and strong figure jumped high, crossing a height of hundreds of meters in an instant, jumping back and forth between the gray-brown iron roofs and densely covered steel pipes, and disappeared in an instant.

Saint Shallia frowned slightly, Alice yelled, and Linger stood there in a daze, thinking back to the words he said before leaving. Judging from his lip movements, it should be -

You can't escape.

　Give me some meow
　　
　
(End of this chapter)