“…”

The Banshee did not answer, and did not take the initiative to attack. She just stopped at the top of the mirror and stared down silently.

If she ignores the eagle claws on her lower body, the Siren looks like a woman with wings on her back.

She was wearing a long feathered skirt embellished with emerald gold and blue purple, each of which was embroidered with gorgeous and complex patterns. Her golden waist showed her slender body. The hem of the skirt like a peacock's tail hangs layer by layer, like a closed flower.

The long ink-colored hair like a waterfall hangs down, and the beautiful face that is so exquisite that it makes people trance is a pair of cold and dazzling peacock blue eyes, which complements the golden coral branches on the hair.

“Bocaccio.”

She spoke softly, her voice gentle and soft, sounding like a sea breeze whispering intimately in her ears, or a whale that is so gentle and ethereal that makes people tremble.

"Do you really want to hide behind someone else's side in this matter? I always thought it was just a matter between the two of us."

Whether it is the song I taught you back then, or you tell me the moving stories of human beings, or we hold hands together through the dense forest...

Those past entanglements belong only to us, and no one should intervene.

Boccaccio's hand was playing the harp slightly, then looked at the Siren Banshee with an innocent look, with a little pretentious confusion and righteousness in his tone:

"But I can't beat you. If we don't rely on our respectable Mr. Knight, would I fight you with my head?"

"And there, I don't think we are familiar with each other. We only met for a week or two a few hundred years ago. Why do we have such a big obsession with me?"

The bard raised his hair and showed an elegant smile with a very graceful look. The beautiful cornflower-colored eyes showed a clear and dazzling luster like a sky bluestone under the golden flame.

"Oh, so there is only one explanation, right?"

"I didn't expect that my charm was so great. Even the sirens from the God generation were so obsessed with me. I really felt guilty. Alas, my poor personal charm that I have nowhere to rest..."

“Bocaccio.”

Cervantes, who was thinking about how to smash the bird from the sky, pulled the corner of his mouth with difficulty: "Can you shut up?"

"Why do you want me to shut up? I was the person involved in this relationship at that time! Is it okay if I talked to her about Xingxing, Moon, Poetry and Songs?"

Boccaccio said "Wow" and suddenly there was a hint of accusation in his voice, but he was still smiling and could not see any true feelings.

Whenever someone sees him, he will feel that this guy deserves a very bad beat.

But I have to say that this move is really very useful. At least Cervantes doesn't have to consider how to hit the banshee flying high in the sky with a spear.

Because the Siren, who was burning with hatred and anger in his heart, had completely given up his previous caution under this provocation and directly used the pair of wings to dive down to his position.

The knight narrowed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stood up with his spear. The tip of the spear with a cold light faced the banshee's sharp claws, and sparkled with sparkling flames.

The silver light flowing on the spear was like a cold fire with strong heat hidden inside. It began to burn the moment it touched the Siren, making a look of pain suddenly appear on the beautiful face of Siren.

"Chi——"

The crisp bird cry sounded, and azure water flow emerged from the void, wrapped around the half-human and half-bird fairy, isolated the silver flame that seemed to burn infinitely, and also flew a little higher again.

Siren, in ancient Greek myths and legends, was the daughter born from the blood of the river god Ecrous, and was also the legendary friend of the Queen of the Underworld.

"Magic..."

Cervantes curled his lips, but he didn't care too much.

After all, in his experience as a ranger hundreds of years ago, he has seen a demon who can truly use magic.

However, among these existences, none of them could defeat the invincible knights of that era. Although the knight's victory did not receive much cheer, all they could receive was fear and incomprehension.

But so what?

Cervantes raised his spear, raised his eyebrows slightly, and his eyes were filled with a sense of arrogance and rebellion.

Only humans can defeat the knights.

Because the knights will always fight for the "people" behind them.

"Wow, the best bard commentator now reports on this battle for you!"

Boccaccio said briskly from the side, and at the same time changed his harp tone and played this ethereal instrument belonging to the gods into a cheerful and lively tone. He can be said to be a master of real-time performance.

"Now the Siren player opposite us has gradually lost his mind because of the handsome and handsome bard's strong contribution to ridicule of monsters and plans to attack on the spot!"

"Okay, only the Cervantes player, who has better military power, successfully seized this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and collided with the other side head-on! Even because of his attribute restraint, Siren suffered a small loss."

Speaking of this, the bard looked at the battlefield not far from him and sighed slightly, showing a look of regret: "It's a pity that the Siren player is incapable of playing, so he actually put a magic shield on himself... But it doesn't matter, it's just a shield, just fold a armor-breaking."

Siren who "put himself in magic shield":...

"Putting a broken armor" Cervantes:...

In short, the next second, both sides of the battle tacitly did not continue to attack each other, but turned the direction of the attack to someone beside him who was pointing fingers.

The only difference is that the Siren's water flow went directly to Boccaccio's head, while Cervantes' attack was to deviate from this section of water flow.

Although the water flow was beaten down, it still poured water on Boccaccio's face...

"So there is indeed a deliberate element in it! Cervantes - you said you should protect me!"

"No, no."

Cervantes relied on his body strengthened by his supernatural powers to hold the stream of water that was shot towards him with expressionless expression. His voice sounded extremely cold and ruthless: "I just said to protect His Royal Highness the Princess. What does it have to do with me if you die?"

"I think as long as there is a Boccaccio here, the style of this battle will not be serious at all."

A princess who was well protected sat next to her, combed her hair in front of the mirror, yawned her at the same time, and asked the person next to her, "What time is it now?"

"Don't worry, it's not midnight yet."

Dante replied calmly, his fingers slightly brushing the snow-white candlelight in front of him.

The candlelight here seems to be lit up only with a story, and it floats above the candles folded by countless mirrors by refraction.

It is a slight coolness that can even hop on your fingers.

Dante pondered at the cluster of fire for a while, then suggested to Kitahara and Feng: "After that, should this guy's gamepad and console be confiscated? I feel that he has been playing this recently."

"Well, I agree. Although the words magic shield and armor stack are really suitable? Well, it is not good to be obsessed with the virtual world, so it's better to be limited."

"What? Beiyuan Beiyuan Beiyuan Beiyuan, wait, I'm going to say that this kind of proposal is too cruel!"

The best commentator who was watching the show in the front row of the VIP seat and was often attacked by two participants from time to time. Mr. Giovanni Boccaccio suddenly turned his head and looked shocked.

"Limiting the game duration will kill people!"

"Arnold? But I feel you need it very much."

Kitahara and Feng bent their orange-gold eyes and said with a slight joking manner. By the way, they buried their faces in Anthony's soft blonde hair and sucked them, successfully messing up the hair he had just combed.

"Keihara?"

Anthony called out to his own adult, who wanted to struggle a little. But the next second, he saw the lazy face of the traveler in the mirror, but also with a happy and comfortable expression.

Um...

Then let it go.

Anthony tilted his head very little, reached out to hug the other person, and even stuffed the roses in his arms into the other person's arms.

"Yes, what about the story you told before Kitahara?"

The child thought about it, pulled the other person's sleeve, and looked at the other person with his shiny eyes.

"Hmm? Which one do you mean?"

Kitahara and Feng pondered for a few seconds, and found that they had told Anthony a lot of stories intentionally or unintentionally. Now they don’t know how many of them are.

The rose swayed his head, because he was stuffed up all of a sudden, so he looked a little dizzy. He heard this and nodded his head, and said reservedly: "It's the story about the prince on the asteroid and his rose."

Her Knight was also curious about the later development of this story - after all, the relationship between her and Anthony and the little prince of the planet always looked so similar.

"Then tell this story...well, of course, you can also treat it as many stories."

Kitahara and Feng blinked in surprise, then smiled slightly in a clear and slight smile, skipping the separation between the little prince and the rose, starting with his journey on different planets.

"He saw a king on the first planet. The king was wearing a big dress made of purple-red and black fur on white background..."

Dante tilted his head, followed Anthony's appearance and leaned over, put his head on the shoulder of the traveler, listening to this fairy tale with a faint sadness and warm atmosphere curiously.

Several people tacitly did not mention anything about Boccaccio and the siren, nor did they ask about the specific situation of the battle, and perfectly played the identity of the onlookers.

——After all, no matter how relaxed the tone of these parties mentioned this matter, no matter how careless or carefree they were, they might not necessarily want to remember this memory.

This can be regarded as the gentleness of these people in certain matters?

Boccaccio turned his head and looked at the three people who looked out of place with the battlefield, a smile appeared in his eyes.

At the same time, he turned sideways slightly and skillfully avoided a silver flame that was flying towards him "accidentally".

"Cervantes, I don't expect you to chop up the Siren, but is this kind of long-range attack OK?"

The bard looked at the silver flame that was not aggressive to humans, raised his eyebrows, looked at the center of the battlefield, and asked lazily.

"Then please be a little serious, I'm cleaning up the mess for you."

Cervantes snorted coldly, and then looked at his opponent seriously again.

As the daughter of the gods - even the most embarrassing ancient Greek gods, the Siren had extremely terrifying ability to manipulate the current of water, which may be the reason why she wandered on the sea.

In all aspects, the other party's existence is a bit troublesome.
To be continued...