Indescribable tarot cards

Just when Sartre and Siosande were approaching the Black River, they were at the top of the Star Tower far away.

Julian stood quietly in his room, staring at the tumbling crystal ball in front of him.

The runes are looming, forming many mysterious lines.

The continent's strongest prophet just stared calmly, as if trying to find something from this ever-changing pattern.

"I'm afraid they are in quite a bit of trouble."

The old voice echoed in the room.

"I know."

Julian responded, his voice calm and not at all anxious.

"There isn't much accumulated in the Star Power Pool, so you have to use it sparingly. That kid ate a lot of stock in one go.

Although there are beacons, ultra-long-distance astrological rituals will also be a big burden. "

"Need not."

"Need not?"

"There is a picture of Antivan."

"That guy...are you sure he will take action? Counting the time, he is about to die, right?"

When it came to Tu Antivan, the Star Tower Spirit finally showed some caution in his words.

For an old monster that has survived for three entire generations of the dynasty, it must respect it no matter what.

Although everyone now knows that Tuantivan is dying.

"I promised that I would help him when he needs me. Didn't you see that letter?"

"Oh, I really don't understand why he sent this psychic letter from a thousand miles away, but there is only one request in it, and he actually asked you to forge a prophecy result."

"He has his plan, although I don't know it, but..." Julian paused, turned his head and looked east, towards the Kingdom of Algrant.

His sight crossed the towering Quinic Mountains, passed through a corner of the Victoria Plain, and then brushed the edge of Badibila and went straight to Leyden City.

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

As a teacher known for protecting his shortcomings, how could he let his students go so easily?

He never told Sartre, and Sartre never knew.

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

Even if Julian couldn't completely see Sartre's every move, through this inconspicuous mark, he could clearly detect the changes in the aura around him.

Of course Sartre didn't know that since the day he left the Tower of Stars, his teacher had temporarily sealed off the room on the grounds of studying the ritual books, and had been standing in front of the crystal ball, silently sensing the changes in the mark.

Of course Sartre, who was carrying the inconspicuous crystal ball, didn't know all this. In fact, he was running wildly with Siosande, and his speed was even a few minutes faster than when he came.

A faint blue light floated on the two of them, and part of the starlight condensed on their legs to help them run farther.

The moment they saw the rushing black river, Sartre and Siosande turned around and ran away without hesitation, even before Horace's warning could be uttered.

At first, they were hesitant to move forward because they felt its surging cult atmosphere.

Now, since even the gold-level Horace City Lord ran away in such a panic, two silver-level, no, one and a half silver-level extraordinary people had to hurry up and run away.

Without saying much, Sartre quickly sprinkled a handful of psychic powder as he ran, letting the azure starlight contaminate him and Sosander.

Immediately afterwards, an extremely complicated talisman and inscription quietly emerged from his body, weaving out rays of light and cleverly stabilizing the overflowing azure starlight.

This is also a new usage that Sartre has figured out during this period of time.

Although he didn't know how to integrate this talisman and inscription into his extraordinary card, he could use this talisman and inscription to assist in the construction of the ritual circle.

In fact, after possessing this talisman and inscription, his research on the simplification of the ritual array was advancing rapidly, especially after he discovered that this talisman and inscription could actually stabilize the ritual array.

The naturally complex lines and structure seem to allow this talisman inscription of unknown function to naturally replace part of the ritual array, greatly improving the stability of the ritual array.

Even though this is an extremely simple ceremony now, it doesn't even have a specific name, it is still a fragment separated from a complete ceremony.

But with the help of this talisman inscription, on the premise of squeezing out the last trace of stability, sacrificing the duration, and under the difficulty of missing many main and auxiliary materials, he was still able to make a sound. Get up and running.

Perhaps because the line between life and death can activate people's potential, with his unreasonable talent and intuition, in just one breath, Sartre miraculously successfully constructed a ritual circle to assist acceleration.

In a sense, this is no small miracle.

Of course, even with the blessing of the acceleration ceremony, there is still a gap between the gold level and the silver level.

Even though Sartre and Siosande had tried their best, the distance between Horace and them was still closing rapidly.

Of course, by the way, Black River's speed is looming above Horace's.

At least, the black water from the Black River could not splash onto the corners of Horace's clothes just now, but now, the black hands protruding from the rushing black water had already brushed against Horace's shadow several times.

The black water is silent, but this silence makes it even more torturous.

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

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

He also absolutely did not dare to look back, fearing that when he turned around he would see the darkness completely occupying his field of vision.

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

Fear silently and tightly grasped his tense nerves, and despair teased his originally strong mind with a grin.

Horace had noticed that something was wrong with his current state, but for a moment he had no choice but to let the aura of the cult gradually infiltrate his body.

It’s actually not difficult to get rid of these newly arrived cult atmospheres. You just need to find a quiet place and clean them 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 good thing is that Horace's efforts are somewhat meaningful.

At least, after his eyes crossed Sartre and Siosand, he could still see the old man in the wheelchair.

On the verge of death, his senses were particularly keen. Horace could even clearly see the age spots on Tu Antivan's face that symbolized decay.

Of course, he could also see the old man's sleeping look.