Stray

    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 already 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, threw a cleaning spell hastily, and 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 sleeping. 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 does not intend to treat them.

    Oliver still 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 tear in the emotion that was about to explode, allowing the poisonous pus and blood to spill out.

    The 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 amazing. The small movements that once made him uncomfortable, did not appear this time.

    It seems that his mimicry is in place - there is no physical injury or blood loss, just the constant tingling and pleasure make his brain a searing blank, almost dizzy.

    This decompression method 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 groaned comfortably and finally woke up. 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 muttered 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."

    Nimo 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."

    Nemo patched up his clothes with shadows and put them on neatly. The neatly dressed Oliver spoke again, with a very serious tone: "If the prophecy is really describing the last hero, and that happens to be me... The person who kills you in the end is destined to be me, maybe it's not bad."

     Nemo paused.

    "That means I finally caught up with you, lost you, and fulfilled my promise to you." Oliver said softly, and buckled the last buckle on the black light armor .

    The forest in the morning was filled with a little mist, and the soft sunlight shone on the ominous black armor. 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, I'm fine."

    The woody and humid air of the forest filled his lungs, and Nemo felt like he was about to drown 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, 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."

    Oliver accidentally laughed this time, but his face was still a little red.

    It's just that when the two of them packed up and rushed to the horse's side, neither of them could laugh.

    "In fact, I've been concerned about it for a long time, Ollie." Nemo's eyes were a little dull, "Don't you think it looks 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, 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 you ignore its body through the trunk.

    It was not stuck in the trunk, the black horse even moved a few steps from time to time, 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 trunk, and the scene was a bit weird for a while.

    Noticing the approach of the two, the dark horse raised his head and continued to stare at Oliver with a special seriousness.

    "Can you talk to it, Nemo?"

    Oliver took a step closer and patted the dark horse's long face. The roughness and warmth of the 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 very intelligent. The catbeard is my family, but its thinking is not very clear." Nemo hesitated and stepped forward, "This horse... I don't know if it has any My own opinion."

    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 silent for a few seconds awkwardly, "I think it has its own thoughts, it doesn't seem to want to be touched by you."

    Nemo stretched his other hand to the horse's neck in shock, and passed through likewise without hindrance. Hands immersed in the hot air, it felt amazing - unfortunately, before Nemo could try a few more times, the horse turned and turned its **** 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 the matter?"

    "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, don't...wait a minute."

    Nimo 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: "The creatures born with the ability to use abyss magic will give me pure power almost every moment... Now you know Jay The identity of the West, the same reason, the species that use surface magic will also give power to Jesse. Ollie, I don't know the previous situation, the current situation should be like this."

    The mysterious formula written by the light in the air disappeared, replaced by two circles, the larger one said "Nimo", the smaller one said "Jessie". 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 how scary the topic was.

    "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 a prominent 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 groups of creatures that multiply and change are none of our business, unless a new species with good talent emerges."

    "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 of scrap."

    "For example, let me think about it, Mr. Fuller successfully domesticated the dangerous beast Thunderlight sheep into Fuller goat?"

    "Hmm." 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 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...you can Does it feel anything on it? I mean, except the look in its eyes?"

    "Furry." Oliver replied stiffly, pressing the horse's head with his hand.

    "...Is there anything else? You close your eyes and feel it carefully... 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 tell what it feels like. No, maybe it's because I haven't had breakfast yet, and my eyes are a little blurry—"

    "That's it, keep it that way!"

    Nemo focused 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 would you like to hear first?"

    "Okay one." Oliver still closed his eyes.

    "At present, at the power level, you have more ways to catch up with me. Before the Withering Castle stripped you from my magic system, your power broke free from my instinctive suppression, exceeding a certain Standard. Now you have the ability to, uh, collect the 'magic tax' like we do - 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.

    Despite the chaos in the world, Pledo has always been stable. 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, not too poor to be turbulent, not too rich to be rich, but also lacking ambition. As soon as it encounters a war, it quickly jumps out to declare its neutrality, and then locks its borders tightly.

    It 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.

    Under the mercenary guild headquarters, Della Lane made herself 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 cause anyone's suspicion. It was the least bothersome of almost all his bodies.

    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 Abyss Sage 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.

    Unfortunately, he just drank two sips of tea today and was enjoying the feeling of the sweet liquid flowing down his throat, so he choked himself completely—

    "Long time no see, Della Lanene."

    Nemo Wright greeted in a not very good 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 the way—how do I get to the 'Butcher'?"