The Collection of The End

My name is Akatosh,

Finally let me catch one.

— 4E, 201, Hearthfire, 10th, 8:43 —

Markarth City is the most special city in Skyrim Province, because it was built by dwarves rather than humans. The scope that the empire can control only includes surface buildings and shallow underground layers, and the deeper part is still in operation even though it has been abandoned for a long time. Only adventurers and Dwarven scholars dare to investigate deeply.

As this situation continues, there are rumors in Skyrim Province that Macarth City will be the bridgehead for the dwarves to attack the surface, so those who dare to settle here are those who are fearless or cannot stay in other territories for various reasons people, as well as the mine owners who came to mine the silver mines and the miners they hired.

After the Forsworn Rebellion decades ago, a family called "Silver Blood" rose strongly, assisted the lord sent by the empire to quickly stabilize the situation, and mastered the largest silver mine in Markas City and quite a few temporary Industries that no one is involved in, including the only hotel in the entire city, the "Silver Blood Inn".

Squeak——

Ilya pushed open the huge bronze door of the Silver Blood Inn, and the various gazes that cast her instantly made her flinch subconsciously.

The residents of Macarth City are mainly composed of Bretons with thinner hair and beards and relatively short stature. Even if Nords appear occasionally, they are not the traditional image of blond, tall eyebrows and deep eyes. The next girl with silver hair and red eyes is quite eye-catching—even if she is wearing Jeanne Darc, no, Sister Joan specially chose for her, a dark purple thick dress that is relatively unattractive to the eye is of no use.

Silver hair is generally a symbol of high elves, while red eyes are a symbol of dark elves. Illya, who combines these two characteristics, is obviously a Nord. Although this strange appearance of uncertain identity is easy to attract attention, it is also It will also discourage people with bad intentions.

"Sister Jeanne, what am I going to do now..." Ilya murmured to herself as she walked through the market in front of the hotel.

"Take a tour of the city according to your ideas for the time being," a clear voice came from next to my ear, "Whether it's our target or Gallus, you can't find it by simply grabbing someone on the street and asking."

This was a strategy they had decided before they entered Marcus City. Since Cicero himself was too weird, and Joan of Arc's aura was too strong, if she came forward to collect information, it might attract unnecessary attention. Illya, who has a special appearance but is quite friendly, is the best candidate for investigation. The two of them just need to stay invisible and stay nearby.

In addition, Joan also used some kind of magic to link the three people's verbal communication together, even if they whispered in a low voice, the other two could clearly hear and respond.

"Hey hey~" Cicero made a meaningless voice, but after passing through the magic, the strange pattern in the words would not appear, and I don't know if Mr. Clown would strongly request to add it back.

The butcher Honey Red Arm, the beggar Banning, the peddler Lisbet, and Ilya murmured a few names in a low voice and searched in the market. Although she found a few butchers and beggars, she couldn't ask them directly. their names?

According to the innkeeper, because the city of Macas is in the shape of a sloping ladder, there is no place where merchants and shops can be placed in a unified manner. Therefore, there are many scattered small markets in the whole city. There is no good location that is crowded with tourists.

"Girl, give this old man a gold coin..." An old beggar with gray hair said when Illya passed by.

"Hmm..." Ilya thought for a while, then took out two gold coins from her pocket and put them into the beggar's broken bowl: "Do you know a beggar named 'Banning'?"

"Go, go, leave as soon as you give the money." The old beggar waved his hand: "Don't bother the old man."

"Huh?" Illya froze.

"Pfft...why do you think you can get information from any random roadside beggar?" Joan of Arc's voice sounded in her ear with a smile: "The most well-informed people in a city are usually from hotels or The proprietor of the tavern is right."

"Hehehe~ If I become a beggar one day, I won't care what other beggars in the city are called~" Cicero also gave a strange smile.

"From, from those adventure novels, after all, I seldom go out." Ilya walked away quickly under the foolish eyes of the old beggar.

"It's all Gallus' fault." "Right, right~" Joan of Arc and Cicero were still talking in the air, so where are they hiding...

After Ilya left the market, she turned to a fork in the road leading to a higher place. Since she couldn't find out at the inn or the market, she had to go to the lord. At least those merchants should have records of paying taxes.

— 9:17 —

"Ma'am, please wait."

When Illya walked to the end of the ramp and was about to find another road leading to the lord's fortress, she was stopped by a man in a white robe and a hood. His appearance looked a little resolute, but he didn't seem very Confident, with a one-handed sword with sheath on his waist.

"My name is Tyrannus, and I am a vigilante." He introduced himself.

"Hello, what's the matter?" Elijah asked suspiciously.

This person seems to want to make people understand what he means by relying on those two sentences, how is it possible?

"Our 'Vigilante' is the sharp blade of Stendhal, the god of justice, and we swear to destroy all evil things from other worlds." Seeing that Illya seemed completely incomprehensible, Tiranus frowned and began to explain in detail.

"I heard that someone is holding an evil ceremony in this house, and they are going to break in to investigate, but there is still one powerful adventurer to support." He raised his finger and pointed to a stone house behind him, "I can feel You have great power, and you show goodness in your generosity in giving money to beggars, and in your lack of retaliation when you discover you have been duped."

"Hmm..." Illya tilted her head, and the market platform below could indeed be seen very clearly from here.

"So, I invite you to join the investigation of this abandoned house, and I hope you will not refuse." Tiranus said, "Of course, a satisfactory reward will be provided."

In Markas City, the internal environment of each house is different, and some houses were ordered to be closed by the lord because they lead to the ruins deep below. If you have to go in, there will be no punishment, but personal safety must I am responsible.

As for the evil ritual... just like what I did a few days ago? Is anyone here calling the Dark Brotherhood too? At this time, there are three members of the fraternity, and you can ask about the other party's request-if the person performing the ceremony has not left.

Illya waited for a while, except that Cicero was still hehehe, Joan of Arc did not raise any objections, so she nodded slightly.

"Lead the way, Mr. Tyrannus," she replied.

"That's great, I don't dare—cough, I mean, if it's too big, I can't search it thoroughly." Tiranus coughed, and stepped forward to push open the randomly closed brass door.

"Well, it is indeed abandoned, and it doesn't look like it has been used recently." After entering the abandoned house, Tiranus held a torch in one hand and a long sword in the other to explore the way ahead, and carefully checked the ground for human footprints Or other traces of passing.

"Since you haven't come in, why do you know that someone is holding a dark ceremony here?" Illya followed behind him, also observing all kinds of dusty furniture and wooden barrels around.

"Because there are such rumors in the city, and the responsibility of the vigilantes is to investigate all places where demons may appear—ha! Sure enough!" Tirannus turned a corner and immediately found a deep cave on the wall Entrance.

"The vigilantes didn't go after the demons, but came to investigate the urban ghost stories. It's amazing." Hearing what Joan said, Illya agreed with her judgment very much.

"Look at this door! There are evil patterns carved on it, there must be something behind it!" Not far after stepping into the cave, Tiranus' voice came again.

Illya followed the prestige, and saw that the carvings on the Dwemer copper door in front of the vigilante were not meaningless patterns, but melted and distorted to form a skull pattern with huge double horns. Its "face" There are also three clear vertical scratches on the chest, which make people who see it subconsciously associate flames and death.

"Damn it, that's Molag Bal, mother's enemy." Illya felt that the madness in Cicero's voice seemed to have disappeared temporarily, and her tone was a little anxious: "Leave that hapless vigilante alone, as soon as possible leave here!"

"No, that guy is overwhelmed with other things right now. It cannot be his body here, so we can take this opportunity to inflict serious damage on him." Joan of Arc denied Cicero's arrangement.

"You want to be an enemy of a demon god? Are you crazy?" "Are you qualified to say this?"

While Illya was listening to the argument between Joan of Arc and Cicero, Tiranus had already reached out and pressed the door, and then his whole body trembled, bouncing back as if he had been scalded.

"[Weak (weak), strong (strong).]" A deep and strange male voice with a buzzing echo sounded: "[The strong must kill the weak]."

"Get out of my head! Devil!" Tyrannus hugged his head tightly.

At the same time, all the furniture, pots, barrels and other movable objects in the cave and the stone house outside were flying up and bumping around indiscriminately.

"In the head?" Illya looked suspiciously towards the direction where the voice came from—behind the brass door with the weird skull.

"[The strong must kill the weak]" the voice continued: "[Otherwise you will all die!]"

There seemed to be some kind of coercive meaning in this sentence, but Ilya was only slightly dazed and was not affected at all.

"No! I don't want to die!" Tiranus was not so lucky, he drew his sword and turned to Illya with dull eyes: "I..."

"You'd better think clearly before you speak~ (Spades)" Cicero in a clown suit appeared behind Tiranus, with the sharp psionic poker held between his fingertips pressing against his throat.

"For example, who is strong and who is weak." Joan of Arc, who was half a step behind Cicero, appeared beside Illya in black armor, hugged her, and snorted at Tiranus.

So they have already followed in? Elijah was inexplicably happy.

"I...I..." Tiranus trembled.

"I'm really ashamed of Ms. Cassiti." Joan of Arc said a name Illya hadn't heard before, and stepped forward: "Forget about that brat, come and tear down this door."

"Hey hey~ (square)" Cicero pushed Tiranus away: "You are so lucky that your mother didn't order you to be killed~ (heart)"

Chi-crack!

Cicero's poker and Joan of Arc's sword slashed at the door at the same time, and it fell to pieces almost instantly, revealing an octagonal altar that seemed to contain a mysterious aura behind it, with a strange hanging hanging directly above the altar. Holding a terrifying giant hammer with a dark green body.

Huh—huh—a certain "power" that has been protecting Illya has fluctuated, and "it" has gathered in front of the girl into a dark longbow, and Illya tentatively reaches out to hold it Finally, it mounted the arrow by itself and drew it to the full bow.

Due to some inexplicable induction, Illya knew its name, [Nightingale's Bow].

"Yo?" Jeanne turned her head to look at the bow, and sighed inexplicably.

"【Mephala! Nocturnal! Boethia!】" The hammer on the altar made a sound very similar to before, but it seemed not so stupid, and it sounded full of anger: "【How dare you-】 "

"Rotten apple~hehehe~(spades)"

"Roar! My wrath!"

Buzz!

No one tried to communicate with him, Cicero's flying poker, Joan of Arc's striding slash, and the black arrow flying from the longbow in Illya's hand all smashed hard on the giant hammer superior

"[Damn—I remember—]" the voice stopped abruptly, the green light on the hammer flew away like a shattered ice layer, and then fell from the altar with a bang, and the octagonal altar seemed to be lost. What kind of moment has become a lot worn out, and it no longer makes people who see it feel inexplicably mysterious.

"Heh," Joan walked over to pick up the hammer, and handed it to Tiranus who had no time to react because the incident happened too quickly: "Go back and give it to Madam Cassiti, she will know how to deal with it , if you ask about us, just say hello to her from 'Hino Scholar', as for you yourself, don't run out to collect merits until you get Tolan's approval."