Brian's eyes were as sharp and focused as a hawk, locking tightly on the phantom in front of him.

His eyes swept through every area like a searchlight, trying to penetrate the bustling and prosperous scene and see every subtle corner of the possible crisis.

He is not only watching, but also analyzing and interpreting, using a kind of vigilance and wisdom that only brave people who have experienced countless storms and waves have.

In the hazy phantom, various characters are moving, forming a vivid and complex picture of life.

At every corner and in every dark place, there are mages who stop to discuss some kind of spell construction, or they are fighting for a certain point of view, or they are laughing and sharing the joys of life.

There are also those mage merchants and customers who come and go back and forth for the things they like, looking for their respective balance points of interests in a fierce bargaining.

The utensils they hold in their hands are of different shapes and colors. The dazzling goblets are shining with crystal clear luster, reflecting the mellow color of the wine. The quaint and solemn wine pots carry the precipitation of time, as if every drop of wine contains a story.

Some of these wines are held firmly in their hands, while others seem to be pulled by invisible forces, floating lightly and freely in the air as high as the elbow. This strange phenomenon adds to the mystery here.

However, despite the surroundings full of laughter and excitement, Brian always remained calm and vigilant. He knew that in this seemingly ordinary scene, danger was often hidden in the most inconspicuous details, waiting for him to discover and crack.

In Bryan's deep and insightful eyes, he keenly sensed some secret laws and strict prohibitions in the magic world, just like ancient runes engraved on the scroll of history, stipulating that mages cannot use magical skills that fly, float or teleport in arbitrarily.

This ban is like an invisible shackle, which binds the mages' dream of soaring in the sky and forces them to follow the pace of mortals in the ground world.

Nevertheless, these great wizards with unique skills did not appear to be overshadowed by this, and they showed their power in a more restrained and profound way.

In that ancient stone square, many mages gathered together, and the magic power flowing in their hands was like bright stars, intertwining and flickering quietly in the night sky.

They use wisdom to create sparks through verbal communication rather than overtaking others with extraordinary power.

Brian stood there and thought for a moment, and decided to explore this wonderful world more deeply with his unique spiritual power.

He cleverly used his spiritual powers to integrate his spirit and body into the surrounding phantoms, and wandered like a transparent soul in this space full of magical aura.

Immediately afterwards, his figure began to appear and loom among the crowd, as if it was integrated with the surrounding environment.

Then he walked quietly with a carefree and contentment, listening and interpreting the whispers and secrets of the mages.

Just as Brian steadily crossed the narrow and dark street and was immersed in the mystery in the phantom, a strange wave broke the tranquility.

This abnormality originated from a mage wearing a dark purple hooded robe not far ahead. His figure looked hazy and weird under the faint street lights.

Suddenly, three wet and shiny tentacles, like fresh olives, quietly slid out from the mage's wide hood, as if driven by invisible force. They twisted and explored, as if they were agility and cunning beyond nature.

At the end of each tentacle, a pair of small and exquisite eyes are embedded, like two stars shining with faint light, releasing a breathtaking gaze in blinking, accurately and meticulously scanning every subtle movement of Brian and even the secrets deep in his heart.

A creepy energy instantly spread out, as if every grain of dust in the air was infected by this force, becoming heavy and depressing.

Brian suddenly felt a chill rising from his back, and the cold sweat instantly soaked his close clothes. The throbbing that hit his soul made him tremble uncontrollably.

His heartbeat was as fierce as a drum, and an unprecedented sense of fear and vigilance intertwined, tightly bound him in this wonderful and terrifying situation.

‘I didn’t expect that my powerful psychic power could still feel the threat in the face of this simple illusion.’

A chill surged deep in Brian's heart, like a cold tide swept across his body instantly, making him feel a little horrified.

At this moment, his heartstrings were tense to the extreme, and his eyes were flashing with unconcealed shock and worry.

It can be seen from this that what terrible danger Ilminster encountered could only send a warning to him in such a tortuous and obscure way, which undoubtedly shrouded a thick layer of haze in Brian's heart.

The air around it seemed to solidify, and it was so pressing that it made people breathless.

Brian gritted his teeth and tried his best to suppress the heart that was beating wildly in fear in his chest, forcing himself to remain calm under tremendous pressure.

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled it to calm the turmoil in his heart.

Although the blood around him seemed to be trembling with unknown fear, he forced himself to take firm steps and continue to penetrate this unknown territory full of crisis.

Every time the footsteps fall, it is accompanied by a slight tremor of unconsciousness, which is caused by the instinctive resistance of the dangerous environment that you are about to face.

However, Brian understood that at this moment, he could not retreat, but to move forward bravely, he could reveal the truth hidden behind the fog.

He traveled through a dim tent stall lit by magic runes, his eyes fixed on a strange character.

This guy has a head of emerald green hair like an emerald forest. The thick and curly hair almost drooped to his waist, echoing that it had an equally vivid green beard that spreads on his chin, like a miniature moss forest.

His eyes flashed with a cunning and deep light behind the glasses, and he was obviously an old wizard who had been immersed in arcane research for many years.

At this moment, the old mage was concentrating on displaying magic. His fingers drew mysterious trajectories in the air, as if he was playing a silent magic symphony.

Under his control, a fireball the size of a palm jumped and rotated in the air, and the hot flames rolled and boiled inside it, reflecting the shadow of the surrounding environment. Although it was small in size, it contained awesome power.

However, the object he tried his best to please, the female mage sitting on a corner stone chair, was quite bored by the scene in front of him.

She was wearing a dark purple robe, with a slightly frown of eyebrows, an elegant but slightly lazy posture, and a clear-cut look.

The beautiful female mage's elbow was placed on her knees, her slender fingers covered her slightly open red lips, and made a yawning sound, as if implying that this magic display would not arouse her slight interest, or that what she was looking forward to was a more shocking and unique magic performance.

At this time, a group of old witches with strange shapes and hateful faces appeared.

Their faces are as haggard as thousands of years of ancient trees, and their skin is full of traces of ruthless years.

The deep-sinked eye sockets were flashing with black eyes that were as cold as a cold pool, revealing a sharp and inviolable majesty.

These old witches were wearing thick and old black robes. Not only was the color of which was depressingly dark, but there was an indescribable gloom that seemed to carry the mystery and sorrow accumulated over countless centuries.

Those black robes were not as smooth as new. Instead, under the faint light, they revealed strands of worn and worn corners and complex and strange rune embroidery. Each pattern seemed to contain the power of ancient magic, which made people feel uneasy when they just glanced at it.
Chapter completed!