You call this a black hand?

The transactions between the overlords of the old era and the top power class of the new era were carried out quietly, but the outside world was in a state of flux at the moment.

In various areas of Fort St. Grant, many faculty members and senior students were hurriedly carrying out defense tasks according to the above arrangements.

The lower-grade wizards who were unable to cope with this were neatly placed in various secret places in the school to take shelter, and were prepared to evacuate at any time.

Although the overall atmosphere was solemn, it also seemed orderly and well-organized.

There is no such order in the city outside St. Grant's Castle.

The people gathered here are basically vendors who make a living around the school and wizard students. In time for the start of school, there are also many wizard parents and passers-by who come to visit and play, making it a mixed bag.

The previous storm and some news from the school had already made these people panic.

And when the sea calmed down and a dense fleet appeared on the sea level, the panic turned into panic.

In such an atmosphere, organizations such as chambers of commerce and trading companies from all walks of life can also cooperate with the school's manpower to build peripheral defenses.

But not everyone is willing to stay and help the locals to resist this attack by an unknown enemy.

Looking for a place to hide, escaping by various means, and even trying to run into the school...

The presence of these people makes Thunder Island, where St. Grant's Fort is located, look like a honeycomb, with "bees" riding flying broomsticks constantly buzzing around the island, leaving or entering.

"Everything went as we expected."

Next to the road paved with black bricks, a tavern named Red Thorn was empty.

The skinny middle-aged boss was leaning on the counter and silently wiping his glass. Opposite him, a fat man of the same age was drinking wine and chatting to the boss.

"The ice curtain of the Sea Clan has been raised. No one can approach this sea area in the next whole day, and the island itself will not have the ability to resist us. If you don't join now, the last company will

You may not even be able to drink the soup."

"You don't have to be afraid of what Fort St. Grant can do. Our allies have been lurking inside the school for a long time. We have already found out what methods they have, and we naturally have ways to deal with them."

"And what about the other side? If you look at the chaotic mess of fish outside, you can see that no one expected our actions."

"You don't have to worry about what happens next. The Sea Clan and we will bear the consequences. If you and your people hide your identity, who will find out?"

"As the leader of the top assassination organization in the wizarding world, I guess you won't be willing to have such excitement..."

The fat man is like a chatterbox, he talks endlessly.

The tavern owner was like a piece of wood. No matter what the other party said, he kept an expressionless face and wiped the glass as if he was taking care of his most beloved treasure, his eyes full of concentration.

However, when the fat man mentioned a certain keyword in his words, the indifferent look on the wood suddenly became loose.

"Trial Center?"

There was a hint of curiosity in the dry inquiry.

He was obviously interested in this. The fat man didn't hesitate when he saw this, and told the relevant information very fluently.

"This facility was just restarted this year. It can transform events that have happened anywhere in the world into false illusions for students to enter and experience."

"Simple experience is nothing, but its ability to transform historical events into illusions is very rare."

"Think about it, with this thing, what secrets can there be in the world? It's us..."

The wooden boss listened silently without saying much.

It wasn't until the other person's mouth was dry that he raised the cup in his hand and poured a sip of wine into his mouth. Then he suddenly said: "I can help you, but you have to promise me something."

"You want to use it to investigate?"

The fat man smiled heartily, "No problem, when we occupy Fort St. Grant, you can use it as you wish."

"It's not just this."

The boss said: "Those mixed-race freshmen in Fort St. Grant, you must also ensure safety."

"Mixed-race new student?"

The fat man was stunned when he heard this, "Are you related to them?"

"I just promised my friends to take care of them, especially that Iger."

"No problem, not only the mixed-race freshmen, but also other freshmen we won't touch."

The fat man agreed: "We are not interested in a group of children. It's just..."

"But what?"

"An heir has appeared inexplicably in St. Grant's Fort, which may cause us some trouble."

The fat man said: "Of course, this won't be a big trouble, but I thought that since he was born this year, it is very likely to be related to the new students."

"It's up to you to investigate."

The tavern owner had never heard of what an heir was, so after hearing this, he lowered his head without interest and started cleaning the glass again.

"I just promised my friend to ensure the safety of those children. I don't care about anything else."

"Then it's a deal."

The fat man made his decision, and then burst into laughter.

"I think with your help, that old monster Browning won't be able to make any waves."

He seemed very confident about his next action, and after chatting with the wooden boss enthusiastically for a few words, he left the tavern leisurely.

However, when he came outside, his smile instantly faded.

After scanning the empty streets around him, the fat man turned around and hurried towards the next target.

He is William Pantoria, one of the organizers of this attack, and is currently trying to recruit some people as helpers.

A plan that has been prepared for many years does not need this kind of temporary "rush work".

But the previous series of visions and the vague talk of an heir made William Pantoria, the pirate leader, feel a little bad.

Especially the messages that his ally, the leader of the Scarlet Cross, sent him not long ago.

The other party believed that this operation could never be successful again, and said that the island under their feet would come back to life at any time.

William Pantoria did not disbelieve this, but he believed that even so, they might not have no hope of success.

Because as he mentioned before when he expressed his position in front of the tavern owner, they had been preparing for more than five years, but Fort St. Grant was completely unprepared.

Even if an inexplicable heir suddenly appears, what effect will it have?

Five years of preparation is no joke. Let alone the island, even if the surrounding sea can come back to life, he has the ability to make it die again!

And to be cautious, he had already asked a friend who was a top fortune teller to do a divination before, and he didn't get any bad results.

"Unless the so-called heir can use means beyond this era, it will not play a decisive role."

"But how is that possible? The demonic tide has long subsided..."

When he came to a bookstore, this thought flashed through William's mind.

Then he pushed open the door of the bookstore and looked at an old man in white robes, with a hearty smile blooming on his face again.

"Andrew, my old friend, it's been such a long time!"