Just as Sartre and Sorsand approached the Black River, they were at the top of the Star Tower far away.

Juli stood quietly in his room, staring at the rolling crystal ball in front of him.

Runes appear and vaguely form many mysterious patterns.

The strongest prophet on the mainland stared at it calmly, as if to find something from this unchanging pattern.

"They may have encountered a lot of trouble."

The old voice echoed in the room.

"I know."

Julian responded with a calm voice and no intention of being anxious at all.

"There is not much accumulation in the Star Power Pool, you have to save some money. That kid ate a lot of inventory in one go.

Although there are beacons, ultra-long-distance astrology rituals will also be a great burden.”

"Need not."

"Need not?"

“There is Tu Antivan.”

"That guy... are you sure he will take action? Calculate the time, he is almost dead, right?"

When talking about Tuantivan, the Tata Spirit of Star finally became a little cautious in his words.

It must respect an old monster who has survived for three generations of dynasties in any case.

Although everyone knows now that Tuantivan is about to die.

"I promised to help him. When he needed me, didn't you see that letter?"

"Ha, I really can't figure out why he sent this psychic letter from thousands of miles away, but there was only this request on it, and he actually asked you to forge a prediction result."

"He has his plan, although I don't know, but..." Julian paused, turned to look east, and looked at the Kingdom of Agrant.

His gaze crossed the towering Quinick Mountains, passed through a corner of the Victoria Plain, and then brushed the edge of Badibila and threw it straight towards the city of Leden.

"If he can't keep my students, of course I will take action," said Julian.

As a teacher known for his short-term care, how could he release his students so easily?

He never told Sartre, and Sartre never knew.

The crystal ball he personally gave to Sartre had the star mark of the tower spirit.

Even if Julian could not fully see Sartre's every move, through this inconspicuous mark, he could clearly sense the changes in the aura around him.

Of course, Sartre didn't know that from the day he left the Tower of Stars, he temporarily blocked the room on the grounds of studying ritual classics, and kept guarding in front of the crystal ball, silently sensing the changes in the mark.

Sartre, who was carrying the inconspicuous crystal ball, certainly didn't know all this. In fact, he was running wildly with Sorsand, and his speed was even a few points faster than when he arrived.

The faint blue light floated on both of them, and a part of the starlight condensed on their legs to help them run further while running.

The moment he saw the rushing Black River, Sartre and Sorsander turned their heads and ran without hesitation, and even Horace's warning was not enough to say it.

At first, they felt the surging aura of cult, and were hesitating whether to move forward.

Now, since even the Golden Level Lord Horace City was running so anxiously, for the two silver level, who were a silver level, one and a half silver level extraordinary people, they naturally had to hurry up and run away.

Without saying too much, Sartre quickly sprinkled a handful of psychic powder while running, allowing the azure star to contaminate him and Sorsand.

Immediately afterwards, an extremely complex inscription of the talisman quietly emerged from his body, weaving rays of light, cleverly stabilizing the scattered blue starlight.

This is also a new usage that Sartre has figured out over the past period of time.

Although he didn't know how to incorporate this talisman inscription into his extraordinary card, he could use this talisman inscription to help build a ritual magic array.

In fact, after possessing this talisman inscription, his research on simplifying the ritual magic array was a long way to go, especially after he discovered that this talisman inscription could actually stabilize the ritual magic array.

The inherently complex patterns and structures seem to allow this unknown inscription to naturally replace part of the ritual magic array, greatly mentioning the stability of the ritual magic array.

Even though this is an extremely simple ceremony now, without even a specific name, it is still a part of the fragments that have been stripped out from a complete ceremony.

But with the help of this inscription, under the premise of extinguishing the last bit of stability, and under the premise of sacrificing duration, and under the difficulty of missing many main and auxiliary materials, it can still run with a hug.

Perhaps because the front line of life and death can activate human potential, with unreasonable talent and intuition, Sartre miraculously successfully constructed a ritual magic circle to assist in acceleration in just one breath.

In a sense, this is a big miracle.

Of course, even with the blessing of the acceleration ritual, the gap between the golden level and the silver level is there.

Even though Sartre and Sorsander had tried their best, the distance between Horace and them was still getting closer quickly.

Of course, by the way, the speed of the Black River is vaguely above Horace.

At least, the black water of the Black River could not splash on the corner of Horace's clothes just now, and now, the black hand that poked out from the surging black water had already brushed Horace's shadow several times.

Black water is silent, but this silence is even more tormenting.

The unknown, the imagination of uncertainty is the fundamental source of fear.

Horace, who was running wildly, could only hear his heart pulsing uneasy, but could not sense the movement behind him.

He also did not dare to look back, for fear that he would see the darkness that completely occupied his vision.

He could only bury his head, hoping to delay for a while, even if it was only a short while.

Fear silently grabbed his tense nerves, and despair was grinning and teasing his originally strong consciousness.

Horace had already realized that his condition was wrong at this time, but for a moment he had no choice but to let the aura of cult gradually immerse his body.

It is actually not difficult to drive away these new arrivals of the cult auras. You just need to find a quiet place to clean it up bit by bit.

However, under the current conditions, how could Horace have the energy and time to do such a thing?

It is already quite good to be able to stabilize your mentality and state and ensure that you are not bewitched by the aura of the cult.

The only thing to thank is that Horace's struggle is meaningful.

At least, after his eyes passed by Sartre and Sorsand, he could still see the old man in a wheelchair.

He was on the verge of death and felt particularly keen. Horace could even clearly see the age spots on Tuantivan's face that symbolized decay.
Chapter completed!