"For example... a magician?"

In that second, Thales's arms were covered with goosebumps, and the sins of the Hell River surged crazily!

The next moment, the vines on the wheelchair suddenly accelerated and expanded and contracted slightly violently!

Frightened, Thales instinctively let go of the wheelchair and stopped.

Be on full alert.

The figure of the Black Prophet was trembling and heaving in the wheelchair.

He made a low and strange guttural sound, which sounded like dissatisfaction or the instinct of deep thought.

Like an asthmatic.

Thales frowned at this.

What are you doing?

After a few minutes, the black-veined vines returned to their original shape and became docile again.

"How are you?"

Thales asked tentatively.

After a while, Morat, who seemed to be seriously ill, took a few breaths and said quietly: "I can't die."

That's it for the time being.

"Keep walking, we haven't arrived yet."

Only then did Thales put away his anxiety, get on the wheelchair again, and start walking.

"Take a closer look at this thing, Your Highness."

Morat said sickly:

"Do you think it's a beautiful thing?"

"Our good neighbors in hell are beyond imagination. They are so different and have the power of termination," the leader of the secret department said weakly:

"Even the meat shaved off from their bodies, each piece looks different."

Thales stared at the squirming vines, becoming even more suspicious.

"And this piece..."

"It seems to be extremely energetic and adaptable to its host. It is a surprise gift for doctors when they are at their wits' end."

Morat's tone tightened:

"But it proliferates indefinitely in the dark and corrodes the host. It is an unclean thing that the church priests hate deeply."

Just like this world, charming and deadly.

Thales was silent for a while.

"So it helps you get through this temporarily, but it will eventually kill you?"

Morat smiled.

"It's worse, kid," the Black Prophet said with emotion:

"It's worse than that."

Thales subconsciously looked forward.

But Raphael's back had already disappeared in front of him.

"don’t worry."

Morat noticed where Thales was looking and hummed:

"He is not me. He is still young and he can bear it."

The Black Prophet's tone fell silent.

You are still young and can bear it.

Thales frowned:

"Just to save his hands that were crippled by Duke Arend?"

The Black Prophet silently looked at the black vines on his legs and shook his head:

"It saved more than just his hands, the child."

The devil is always there, but the devil is silent.

For some reason, Thales suddenly remembered this sentence.

"The former Crown Prince of Midir," something happened. Thales suddenly remembered something:

"As the architect of the 'Dragon's Blood' project, he once led the Secret Service and at least worked with you, right?"

Morat raised his head, his eyes sharp.

"Did he use it?"

Thales looked at the black veined vines tightly entwining the Black Prophet's legs:

"Use this thing to treat your crippled legs?"

The silence lasted for a long time this time.

"It's not like no one has suggested it."

It was rare for Morat to express his feelings openly, and he said in a tone of remembrance of his old friend:

"But His Highness Midir, he refused with a smile. He said..."

Morat stared at his skinny hands and looked at the vines on his legs:

"Without these legs, he can still stand up and become a complete and sound person."

Thales's eyes lit up.

"As expected of him, it is thought-provoking."

He said it sincerely.

"certainly."

Morat hunched his chest and sighed:

"The shortcomings that most people need to fill are not in their bodies."

Looking at Morat like this, Thales suddenly had an illusion: wrapped in vines, the weak and painful opponent had lost the terrifying cloak of the Black Prophet and behaved like a sentimental ordinary old man.

Perhaps, facing Morat like this, he can gain more.

His thoughts moved, he patted the wheelchair, and the vines on it stirred:

"Then how did you get this thing? Don't tell me you have a mine that leads directly to hell?"

Morat was silent for a while.

Just when Thales thought he wasn't ready to answer.

"According to the agreement, the leader of Blood Whistle should stand here now and continue to discuss our cooperation."

Morat sighed:

"But unfortunately, he broke the promise."

Thales was stunned for a moment, then opened his eyes wide:

"You said...who?"

Morat chuckled.

"You know, kid," his weak body trembled slightly in the wheelchair:

"I can read minds."

Thales' expression changed.

Still want this set?

"Yes, I know Ricky, I know the Sword of Disaster, and I also know that you have been together for at least a few hours." The old man in the wheelchair said calmly.

Ricky.

Thinking of the strange identity of the Sword of Disaster "Crasus", Thales put away his surprise.

Let’s continue talking about our “cooperation”.

The Duke of Star Lake remembered what Ricky said in the dungeon:

[Our relationship with the Secret of the Stars is closer than you think.]

The Sword of Disaster and the Mysteries of the Kingdom.

He just gave it a try, but he actually... asked for information?

"I thought you said you wouldn't read minds today."

Thales leaned forward slightly and carefully observed the Black Prophet's expression.

No.

Thales understood clearly in his heart:

"It's Norbu."

"It's him. He came to report to you what happened in Xihuang."

That's why he knew he had met Ricky.

Morat raised his head and glanced at Thales.

"Compared to six years ago, you have become sharper, Your Highness."
To be continued...