The Heavens: Hogwarts Transfer Students

Under the influence of the Flying Curse, the body fragments of Clown Dribos seemed to turn into magic missiles, automatically finding their way. Some parts are in basements or sealed rooms. If the fragments cannot come out, they will slam into the door panel. The thumping sound attracts pedestrians passing by. Some kind people help open the door, but they are frightened out of their wits by a piece of clown fragment flying in the air.

Of course, there are also those that really can't get out. As the intensity of the summoning of the Flying Curse gradually increases, this part of the body will acquire a more powerful flight vector and begin to shrink until it can squeeze out of the gap.

Linde maintained the operation of the ritual magic. Lucius on the side stared at the magic circle openly, and she made a soft tut-tsk sound.

"Don't worry." Linde said to reassure him, "Let the body fly for a while."

The Archmage of the Necromancer smiled generously, "I'm not in a hurry, young man, but your magic circle is a bit strange, which is rare."

Ritual is the original form of magic, with many historical sources and complex branches, so the schools are also quite broad. No one can identify all kinds of magical rituals.

The magic rituals of Faerûn were systematically integrated in the era of Netheril, and there are traces of mage rituals from then on.

However, spellcasting professions such as druids, warlocks, and priests use magic network knowledge from ancient beings such as fairies, suzerains, and gods, which will be different from the mage's ritual system.

It is equivalent to the difference between mainstream and unique theories in the academic world.

Lucius is well-informed and knows that magic is very free, so he is not bothered that Lind's magic talisman does not meet academic standards. She noticed that the Holy Symbol of the Silver Tree appeared frequently in this magic circle, and the object of the request happened to be the strange existence she had heard about.

"Let me guess, your sect master is the King of the Tower." The circus leader was very sure.

"What's wrong?" Lind asked with a hint of curiosity, "What kind of... existence do you think the Tower King is?"

"An ambitious power from another world, no doubt." Lucius laughed, "In the past few years, his group of contractors have been like diatoms in sewage, growing very fast, and they are everywhere if you are not careful. "

"Is he ambitious? Just because he has more contract workers doesn't mean he is ambitious."

Lucius blinked and thought for a moment before saying, "I have no prejudice against you guys."

"I'm not accusing, I'm just curious about what other groups think of 'us'."

The sturdy female mage waved her hands lazily, "I don't have any opinion. There are countless mortals in this world, and the gods are all kinds of weird. Maybe at a certain moment, one of the stars in the sky will be particularly brilliant, but who can guarantee it? Will it continue to be bright?"

Linde looked strange, "Do you regard gods as stage actors? For them, even if they only flicker briefly, the brightness they maintain may exceed the rise and fall of a civilization."

"Brother, when you have experienced turbulent times, you will find that the gods are not so unattainable. Who is not an actor on the eternal stage of the universe?" Lucius covered his mouth and smiled.

"But I really admire the Tower King you believe in. He is the first powerful person to capitalize on faith. People like you use faith to buy knowledge, which is very good. Compared with other gods or sect masters, the Tower King At least the attitude is clear - clearly mark the price. Instead of letting mortals kneel on the ground and pray, and reward them depending on their mood."

Linde was noncommittal and asked: "Where have you heard of my kind?"

"They are everywhere!" Lucius opened his arms exaggeratedly, "There are them in every city that the Circus of Doom passes through. Right here, Livington, Baldur's Gate. If you want to find companions, go to the place where the poor gather. Look. There's a barn across the street, and you can't walk two steps over there without encountering one."

As they chatted, the Yankee girl returned to the circus. Not long after her arrival, the last piece of the puzzle of Dribos the Clown flew over from the Lower City on the other side of the river.

There are seven parts in total. The bitch Orin used the clown's body to perform murder rituals to please Baal. The actions of this evil cult are getting more and more crazy, and there will definitely be more murders in the future.

As the pieces of Dribos were assembled, Lucius was overjoyed.

"Ah, perfect, um...a little bit bumpy and gnawed by rats, not a big deal, I'll remake him and Dribos the Clown will be even better than before. An undead clown - simply a legend.

"As for you, of course, I will hand him over to you first, the evil Paladin. The circus is bordered by the cemetery of the Temple of Mercy. You can go through the iron gate. Bury him early so that I can dig him out. By the way, this is my little thought, take it."

The generous circus leader took out a pair of magic gloves and gave them to Linde. Its effect is simple and crude, and it can increase the power of spells.

Linde found a body bag to bury Drippos's body and carried it to the Temple of Mercy next door.

This temple is dedicated to the god of suffering, Ilmet, who is one of the Three Saints of Justice and a weeping god who teaches his followers to endure pain in order to make the world a better place.

Linde and his party took the side door and led directly to the cemetery in the backyard of the temple.

The garden was kept neat and tidy, with no weeds on the walkways and no moss on the tombstones. Some family members of the deceased stayed and strolled in the garden, leaving a mountain chrysanthemum on the grave, or a few murmurs of longing. In this war period, no one can tell whether they will be buried in the grave tomorrow, so conversations with the dead seem to have an added layer of self-pity sadness.

A middle-aged priest with gray beard and gray hair whispered to the family members. Hearing the sound, he turned around and saw the visitor, and took the initiative to greet him.

"Young man, what are you doing here? This bag smells rotten. Could it be a corpse inside?"

"This is Mr. Dribos the clown. And I am Lind. My companions are Karak, Laezel, and the Githyanki monks." Lind smiled at the priest, "Are you the priest of Ilmet? ?”

"Logan, humble servant of my lord Ilmet." The middle-aged man made a prayer gesture on his chest - his hands were crossed, his thumbs were pressed together, and his fingers were spread like dove wings.

Lind nodded: "Praise Ilmet, every drop of his tears was shed for suffering. Father, I need you to bury this poor man. He was brutally killed by Baal believers, and his body was divided."

"Of course, of course." After hearing what happened to Dribos, Father Logan actually cried sadly, "Oh, happy clown, you bring happiness to people, but you hide the sadness in your heart. A kind person like you It shouldn’t be reduced to this.”

"Father, how much are the burial expenses? I'll find a way to get it together."

"No need. Just leave it to me." Logan picked up the body bag, turned around and walked into the back door of the temple.

At this time, a greeting came from the high red tile roof of the temple.

"Hey! Lind! Look above your head, I'm here!"

"Gail?"