"Hu..." He blinked and his body fell down.

He felt that he was falling into a cloud, and the blurred light seemed to spread from the corner of his eyes along some unknown vein, just like the smudge technique he learned when he was learning watercolor painting. He subconsciously thought that this was some kind of revelation, like a shell on the shallow, a small echo of the endless waves of the sea of ​​souls. The light and shadow gradually formed a blurred figure, and he knew whose back was without thinking too much - that was his wife. The long forgotten past was like a locomotive roaring and spitting out coal smoke and crashed into his dream. He felt his hands and feet cold, as if he had returned to a very bad moment, panic, nervous, grief and anger surged up.

But he couldn't remember.

No, he knew that he had blocked this memory and used it to fight the fall. He calmed down again, and then his dream seemed to switch to another channel. He watched the huge waves of the high peaks rise in front of him, the sun was covered by clouds, and the thunder that resounded throughout the world replaced the star's light and illuminated the sky. The black long ship, as if a black scale, slowly squeezed out from the horizon. The violent wind roared from the mouth of the gray giant wolf, screaming death was coming, and the dark sun jumped out from behind the long ship, radiating cold and silent light to the whole world. He looked down at his feet, and then he found that he was stepping on a corpse covered with scars. Another one, another, and wherever he looked, there was death, and the sea water was dyed with blood a viscous red.

Traitor! Someone shouted in the void, and the man's anger even triggered a new round of huge waves.

Casillaos opened his eyes, stared at the bedroom ceiling, and breathed a sigh of relief again.

He stretched out a hand from under the bedding and twisted the warm desk lamp at the head of the bed, and then immediately shrank back. The winter in Nordic was quite difficult, and even though he paid for floor heating and heating, the tiny air flow leaked from the gap in the window was enough to freeze his fingers. Casillaos barely sat up from the bed, and the cold air instantly came, like an aviation bomb exploded on his spine, which made him awake a lot. He whispered a spell, directing the water cup and the thermos.

Then he put on his glasses, picked up a notebook bound in black leather and a pen to record the dream carefully. As a spellcaster, he had not dreamed for a long time. Unless an extraneous force was particularly powerful, it was possible to make him dream and protect his mind. This was the reason why the spellcaster remained nervous for a long time. The previous dream was already blurred, but the latter dream clearly remembered the omen he saw. Thunder, waves, giant wolves, peaks and cold sun, which he believed was because of his long-term mission that he had made him dream like this.

His long-term mission is to monitor the movements of the Asa's royal family, but it has to be said that if the title of Father of the Gods is abandoned, the old guy Odin is actually quite popular - Odin once held a small banquet in his cabin, with only Casillaos being the only participant. The warm stove, heavy honey wine and the meat chops that were roasted until soft, and the two dogs groaning under the long wooden table, gnawing at the bones thrown by the owner. Odin waved his greasy hands and boasted about his young hunting experience, and his heroic figure of defeating the enemy on the battlefield. The slowly burning smoke of firewood mixed with the fragrance of mushroom soup, which was not something that human stomach could bear, and it made people sober up.

Maybe he dreamed of Ragnarokia? The fate of the three goddesses Noren entangled him?

Casilios fell into thinking after recording several key elements. However, he did not delay for too long, but put down his notebook and took the hot water brought by the invisible servant and drank slowly. He took a deep breath, lifted the bedding and jumped out of the bed, and the cold air made his mind clear. He walked into the bathroom and looked at the man with gray-white stubble and short hair in the mirror. The dazzling white light on his head looked a shadow in his deep eyes. When he lowered his head, millions of faces similar to him appeared in the mirror, each of which was roaring at him. Casilios did not notice this, and those dreams disturbed him. He turned on the faucet and started washing up. When he raised his head again, the fragments in the mirror disappeared completely.

Today he was watching Salomon, who had grown up, come to visit him, and he had to prepare in advance.

"I heard about London, it's not your fault." Casilios poured a glass of vodka that had been frozen outdoors for Salomon, who was sitting opposite him. A thin layer of ice condensed on the surface of the wine. Salomon shook his head, clinked with Casilios, and drank the clear spirits that were filled with whiskey glasses without blinking. The secret mage's alcohol capacity was beyond the reach of ordinary people, thanks to the body that has been polished by magic reinforcement and close combat training for years. Although it cannot be as powerful as in the comics, it is unless it is cursed.

Curse Otherwise, this kind of disease is generally difficult to happen to the secret mage. Of course, a healthy body alone cannot resist the erosion of alcohol, but the secret mage still has some tricks, such as the [Secret Medicine of All Spirits] made by Salomon, which can resist alcohol. However, Salomon does not need to take the [Secret Medicine of All Spirits] like in the past. As he grows older, the feedback of the Holy Scar and the genome created by the Earth Mother God have long given his internal organs a abilities beyond ordinary people. The most complex and beautiful program in the world is running in his body.

"I haven't said it was my fault, but I still underestimated the ability of mortal civil servants. This is a mistake and cannot be changed." As Casilios poured the two of them slowly, Salomon smashed his mouth and savored the feeling of the first glass of liquor. The young secret mage had already changed into a dress. He took off his power armor and put on his suit again, but he changed his vest to a black long-sleeved sweater and put on a wool coat outside. Even when he came to visit, he still had a belt with copper buckles hanging around his waist, and the long and short knife was quietly in the sheath, revealing only a little shape under the cover of the coat. "You should have heard recently that I gave up competing for the title of Supreme Mage." He said, "I'm not at peace in Kama Taj recently."

"I have known this for a long time. The Supreme Master is just a title. The power that the real Supreme Master still has belongs to you. The Venerable's preference for you is unscrupulous, which is something that everyone can see." Casillaos said, "If anyone can't see it, it means that this person is not able to continue to stay in Kamataj. Not that no one wrote me to plead with mercy, but everyone knows that the will of the Venerable cannot be changed. But I still haven't figured out that if you give up competing for the title of Supreme Master, then who will inherit this title, and what will the Supreme Trinity do?"

"Time is meaningless in the sea of ​​souls. The so-called prophecy is actually a possibility of the future. For the Supreme Trinity, there is no difference between the past and the future."

Casillaos nodded and made a zipper gesture on his mouth.

"No more talk about this." He put down his wine glass and pointed to the direction of the kitchen. "I roasted pork chops, which I learned from my neighbors. Traditional Norwegian Christmas dishes are very suitable for wine."

"Neighbor?" Salomon recalled a blond young woman he met next door. He greeted him very politely, "Is it an alien or a mortal?"

"mortal."
Chapter completed!