Chapter two hundred and fifty-three, the power of the moon

Cold Nebula heard ISRIEL's words and nodded his head. Since entering this small villa, he has met three high-ranking brave men, and none of these advanced braves is anything but cunning and resourceful, a far cry from the necromancers and Handaxe Jerrys that cold nebula exterminated.

The sense of cold nebulae is that every step forward in this cottage could be a trap or an ambush. Had it not been for the fear that the Elven high priest might indeed be hiding here, the cold nebula would have burned the house to the ground with a single blast, to the death, no matter how many great warriors it contained.

As she raised her leg to block her hand as she tried to open the door, Delphi, the fat Cook, looked again at her with a look of horror in his face, his eyes wide and full of fear, seems to be worried that Israel's GONNA kill him.

Although fat chef Delphi didn't look like a liar, but after years of traveling far and wide, Israel had very little to do with people. If the fat man was a drama Queen, that's where he and cold nebula would come in, so Israel decided that fat chef Delphi should never be allowed to open the door in case something went wrong.

At this thought Isreal took a step back, lifted her leg decisively, and with a swift kick kicked at the old wooden door.

How could the wooden door, which was already so badly broken, withstand Isreal's powerful kick, and suddenly it collapsed with the loose bricks and stones around it.

"AHEM. "

The rising smoke made Isreal cough, but she remained alert, her eyes peering through the dusty door into the dimly lit room.

This time Isreal saw, on the bed of the room, a young girl sitting at the head of the table, dressed in the moonwhite robes of an elven race like the ugly sorceress before her, only now the fairy maiden was facing her instead of her back.

Isreal looked closely at her features, and sure enough, they were the same as the fairy maiden that had been transformed by Jed, the magician before her, except that this face, though young, had a steady expression, even in the face of them who had broken into the house, she seemed so old and calm, not at all like a teenage girl.

Isreal would never have believed that this was the true high priest of the elven race if the elven maiden had not been bound by a rope at this moment, the fairy maiden's appearance did not correspond at all with her age, as reflected in her temperament!

Now Isreal and the other three stood outside the door, and the tied Elf maiden sat on a little bed in the middle of the room. After a few seconds the two men looked at each other, isreal looked round at the fat cook beside her, at the elf-maiden sitting in the room, and began, "are you the high priest of the elves? "

Only the Elf maiden in the room, after hearing the words of Isriel, looked a little to one side, as if somewhat different, and nodded a little, and he said, "I am the high priest of the elves, Serta breath, and you are? "

When Isreal heard the voice of the high priest of the elven clan, who called himself the CERTA breath, she was again surprised by how mature the voice of this teenage girl was?

Just when Isriel was wondering, the Cold Nebula, carried by the fat chef Delphi, opened its mouth and said, "Chias Bedolos goode Oakley! "

After hearing the strange words spoken by Cold Nebula, the maiden of the bound elven clan stood up suddenly, with an indescribable joy on her face, he opened his mouth in haste and answered, "Rosso Sigurladek Azbabia! "

After listening to the conversation between Cold Nebula and the fairy maiden, isriel stood in the doorway, iSRIEL quickly turned to cold Nebula and asked, "what are you talking to her about? What is all this babbling? Why can't I understand anything? "

The Cold Nebula smiled, he said to Isreal, "it is old elvish, and not many people speak it now. The elder elven gave it to me when I left Elven Grove, so that I could identify the high priest with it. "

Hearing the words of the Cold Nebula, isriel nodded a little, suddenly, he burst into a rage and said, "Hey, you bloody fool! You have such a secret code, why didn't you tell me when you saw Jed the magician? If you had, would I have been hurt? You BIG IDIOT! "

Listening to ISRIEL's words, cool nebulon blushed, "when I saw Jed the magician, I didn't think he was a fake, " he said. "I saw her cowering, and I thought he was scared, so I tried to calm him down before I asked... who knows... "

While Isreal was talking to the cold Nebula, the CERTA breath in the room spoke to the cold nebula outside the door and said, "you've come to save me? "

"Yes, we were sent by the elven elder to rescue you... " said Cold Nebula, who was riding on Delphi's back. He turned to Delphi, who was carrying him on his back. "Hey, fat man, come inside. Let's untie the high priest. "

"Yes, yes. " After hearing the cold Nebula's command, Delphi, who dare not disobey, hurriedly carried the Cold Nebula on his back and stepped into the hut. Now Delphi was terrified. From the inside out, he was afraid that Isreal and the cold nebula would kill him.

After seeing Delphi enter the hut with the cold Nebula on her back, isriel follows and looks at Delphi, who is struggling to free herself from the Serta Wind, with the Cold Nebula on her back, he opened his mouth and said, "I'm so stupid! I couldn't get it off in half a day! If I hadn't been hurt, I wouldn't have needed you! "

It was only when she said she was hurt and tied up in the air of Celta that she realized that there was still blood on both of her arms. No wonder she was so strange when she first came in...

Seeing Isreal's wounded and bleeding arm, certa said hastily, "do not worry, my brave Terran, I will heal your arm with the power of the Moon, and I promise you, there will be no scar on your arm. "

Upon hearing the words of the serta breath, Isreal's eyes lit up, and he spoke to the Serta breath and said, "really? You can really cure my arm? Without leaving a scar? "

Looking at Isreal's excited face, the SERTA wind smiled a little and said, "of course, I, the Serta Wind, am the high priest of the elven race, how can I say such things to deceive you? "

But there was a real look of incredulity on Isreal's face, not for any other reason, when the sentence 'Celta's breath' was finished, it was because of the way the little Brat always looked so young and old in her clothes that Isreal couldn't quite believe her.

The SERTA breeze seemed to see Isreal's scruples, and smiled a little, she opened her mouth and said, "please don't compare the life cycle of your people with that of our elves. Although I look like your 13 or 14-year-old children, I'm already in my 70s. ". .. ."

When Isreal heard from Celta that she was in her seventies, she almost jumped up in surprise. "What? You're in your seventies? " She exclaimed

The Cold Nebula that clutched the fat cook's neck in its death grip had no doubt about the SERTA breath, for before that he had seen the elder of the elven race, who said she was nearly five hundred years old. And now I'm dying... ... A nearly 500-year-old Elf woman who looks like a forty-year-old lady. The Cold Nebula has to admit that the elves are outwardly perfect.

Looking at the astonished look on Isreal's face, the cold nebula opened his mouth and said, "what she said is true. The life span of elves is over five hundred years, so seventy is really about the same as our fourteen... "

When she heard the cold nebula mention that the life span of the elves is more than 500 years, Isreal realized it. Yes, she had seen it before when she looked at the records of the continents. Indeed, if the cold Nebula said, these faeries did indeed have a life span of more than five hundred, and in more ancient times the faeries were even immortal.

"Well, it's a good thing the elves have such a low fertility rate, otherwise the world would have been overrun by elves... " Isreal thought.

At last, thanks to the efforts of the fat chef Delphi, the Serta Wind, bound by ropes, was set free.

"Let me see your arm, " said the SERTA breath, which had been released from the rope, to Isriel, and went deep into his little white hand, after looking at Isreal's badly injured left hand, he opened his mouth and said, "it's not only a wound, but also a dagger with anaesthetic. It's a pity... "

When she heard the SERTA breath murmuring her wretchedness, Isreal could not help but purr her lips and say, "The reason I'm so miserable is to save you, " Isreal said. "I'm just... " but now Isreal knows she wants to get better, and is not the kind of scar, but also rely on the power of the moon can use the elven family high priest, so some uncomfortable, but still did not say it.