The old man smiled playfully and skillfully replied: "After experiencing such events, of course, it won't remain unscathed. But we've digressed, this team is not the focus of our attention, don't you think?"
Fang Hong slowly nodded.
Hilveld turned her head back.
Her eyes, as blue as water, flashed a hint of concern, and she quietly reached out to grasp his wrist from behind.
But Fang Hong turned back and gave her a reassuring look—he actually knew Mr. Kroid and Miss Sicape had been through the Battle of Bain; Mr. Kroid had spoken to him about it on that night, seemingly with so profound implication—of course, he was indeed a bit surprised:
If that was truly the Morning Dawn Star—
However, at the sa ti, Fang Hong's heart flashed with a hint of doubt: it felt like a shadow from the past overlapping with a shadow of the present, causing him to frown slightly—he seed to have heard this story sowhere. But upon second thought, he indeed had heard the story of the 'Morning Dawn Star.'
And not only heard, but personally participated in it.
He dismissed this thought and continued listening quietly.
The old man put down his cup of tea and continued: "Where were we? Ah yes, the slates, they made rubbings of those slates, but there was a disagreent on how to handle them. They wanted to monopolize that knowledge, but couldn't carry away so many slates; naturally, the best way was to destroy them, so the copies they held beca unique knowledge."
Fang Hong frowned upon hearing this; in his impression, Miss Sicape and Mr. Kroid were not those kinds of people. But whenever it ca to matters of the 'Morning Dawn Star,' he displayed an extraordinary maturity, rely asking a light question:
"Mr. Alvan, what happened next?"
"Unknown," the old man's gray-white eyebrows raised, he spread out his hands, revealing a secret: "Anyway, no one has seen those slates again, but those Holy Chosens didn't get much out of it either. As far as I know, the rubbings changed hands repeatedly and didn't remain with their original owners. And that small adventure group, in the end, faded into obscurity, with few rembering those people's nas, including the Alchemist who copied the slates."
Fang Hong didn't imdiately respond, as this seed quite logical: a small adventure group wanting to hog such important knowledge, hidden entities like the Dragon Worship Sect or the various Summoners' Guilds, wouldn't let them off so easily. Especially since soon after, the 'Seventh Decree' was promulgated.
Ah yes, the 'Seventh Decree.'
Just then, a tiny spark suddenly flashed across his mind—
He raised his head, suddenly realizing who the third party related to the Abyssal Sea Scroll was, aside from the scholars, alchemists, and Dragon Worship Sect.
The old man saw his expression and smiled slightly: "Seems like you guessed it."
Fang Hong's eyes couldn't help but reveal a hint of complex emotion.
"I say," Reed spoke up then: "Young man, what are you plotting again in riddles?"
The Lion Paladin rubbed his bundled beard with giant claws, pinching a copper ring, squinting his eyes at the duo.
Fang Hong turned back to look at Reed and Atira; adventure and town matters rarely troubled the holy knight from Rotao, but history—especially the history of the Chosen—was different. He answered in an almost imperceptible voice:
"Alliance."
Which alliance it was need not be elaborated.
The Big Cat's silver-gray eyes imdiately showed an interested expression.
Hilveld too was sowhat contemplative, but remained silent. Only Atira maintained a calm deanor.
Fang Hong then stood up from his seat and bowed to the old man: "Mr. Alvan, very thankful for telling us this. I think we've gathered enough information."
The old man looked at him with a clear, extrely insightful gaze and asked: "Leaving? Seems like you have a lead?"
Fang Hong slowly nodded.
The old man's eyes revealed a hint of a smile, joking: "Actually, I have so information about those slave traders too, about how I escaped from their hands, not simple at all."
Fang Hong also smiled upon hearing that, he smoothed his coat's collar, politely said: "Next ti, Mr. Alvan. Those are rely insignificant people."
"Seems you truly understand, alright, then next ti I'll tell you this fascinating story—after you rescue the others," the old man paused, then asked: "How do you plan to start?"
Fang Hong contemplated a bit: "I plan to first check out where they're stationed."
"Good choice." The old man replied.
Fang Hong then looked at the middle-aged craftsman, signaling they could leave.
The middle-aged man, actually from halfway through, hadn't understood the conversation between the two at all, but soone who could converse so candidly with this old man, he hadn't encountered before. Although thus far, the other party had never revealed their identity, at least in the domain of knowledge, they were profoundly knowledgeable.
The Grand Princess had compared him with her court teachers, and even they couldn't compare. Considering such aspects, his impression of Fang Hong also beca sowhat inscrutable.
Seeing Fang Hong looking at him, the middle-aged man didn't dare to slack off, nodded, and prepared to head out.
But at this mont, the old man called after them.
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