Who says knights can't backstab

Chapter 232 Concealment
Cyril didn't know what mood he had left the manor with, and even Heloise, who had looked a little unkind to him before, noticed his depression and put away her expression.

The footsteps of the two staggered in the corridor, this time Cyril walked in front and Heloise walked behind.But Heloise finally seemed unable to bear it anymore, and spoke first, breaking the silence that was only the sound of footsteps.

"Adrien, your Highness... what kind of person do you think His Highness is?"

"His Royal Highness?" Cyril slowed down a little. He stretched out his hand and rubbed his eyebrows to relax them, and then replied, "Your Highness is much more accommodating than I thought."

"Accommodating? That's right." Heloise said softly, "His Royal Highness is at odds with the entire court. Many ministers think that she should restrain her thoughts... In fact, many people think that His Highness is influenced by the previous court's thinking. poisoned."

"Front court?" Cyril paused.

"Your Highness advocates reducing the rights of nobles, taking more rights back to the central government, and redistributing them to the people." Heloise said, shaking her head suddenly, "It's still too early for you, but... Your Highness In fact, I value you very much.”

"Important to me?" Cyril couldn't help laughing, "This doesn't quite match His Highness's thinking."

"Perhaps." Heloise said noncommittally.

The two remained silent all the way, and they slowly returned to the gate of the city. Heloise stopped the horse, leaving Cyril to return to the city alone.

The night is already deep.

Cyril rode a horse and walked slowly on the streets of Midtown, his heart was in a mess.

He didn't know whether what Anastasia said was true, but Caroline's father must have been involved in some secret matter, and his life and death were unknown.

Is there really a secret world that needs to recruit blacksmiths to build a new line of defense, or is there another crisis-such as the emergence of the entrance to the dungeon, or the opening of the passage to hell?

There are many conjectures, but no matter which one, for an ordinary blacksmith, it is a situation of life and death.

He suddenly had an idea in his mind.Perhaps the "Twilight Shadow" in her previous life didn't have that much hatred for La Rochelle. Could it be because she witnessed her father's death that she transferred her anger to La Rochelle and appeared in 1448 In front of the players?

Cyril thought about it carefully, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt that he had guessed the truth of the matter—in the game, the most famous battle of Twilight Shadow Caroline was the capture of Salkonan, and after capturing Salkonan, She no longer followed the army of the undead, and did not even stay in Solkonan, but returned to the hometown of the undead in the north.

Because of this, human beings had the opportunity to push back and take back Solkonan.But that was also after the "orthodoxy" to which the little prince of La Rochelle belonged was destroyed in the Gulf.

There is also a possibility that Caroline's father has not died yet, and the place they were transferred to has not yet fallen—let's use such words to describe it, and the real crisis will come in a few years.

If he thinks about it this way, then he still has a chance to find Caroline her father.

However, another reason needs to be found, first to appease Caroline.

Cyril was thinking about how to make up a seemingly complete reason to convince Caroline—although usually a little girl only needs a little delicious food to be diverted happily, but this matter is Can't be fooled by any means.

He knew that the little girl usually seemed to be very happy, but when she was walking on the street and saw her father carrying her daughter on his back, Caroline could not help showing a little sadness.

Thinking so, he slowly returned to the manor and entered the space of the magic plain.

Cyril stood on a high hill and looked down. It was already late at night, but the castle not far away was still lit.He estimated that it was probably the kitchen, and there seemed to be people busy in it.

Is it Mia?Guessing in his heart, he walked into the castle, tied up the horse, and then walked quickly to the door of the kitchen, where he saw a slim figure cooking in front of the pot.

"Miss Misha?" He froze for a moment, and found that it was Miss Elf who was sprinkling handfuls of herbs into the pot, and the strong aroma of the herbs lingered throughout the kitchen.

"Ah, fellow clan, you came back so late?" Misha said briskly, and sprinkled handfuls of herbs.

Cyril leaned forward to look, but found that the color of the water in the pot quickly changed from green to purple, and then to black, bubbling, and the original fragrance suddenly turned into a foul smell, which smoked him a face——

"Yeah, I failed again and failed again!"

Miss Elf exclaimed, she immediately pushed Cyril aside, turned off the fire, put the lid on the pot heavily, and rushed out of the kitchen with the pot in her arms.

But she heard the sound of splashing water, and after more than ten minutes, she slowly returned to the kitchen with the pot in her arms, put the pot down on the stove again, and wiped the sweat off her forehead.

"Misha, are you..."

"Preparation of potions." Misha's tone could not hear any frustration, "Miss Mia told me that she wanted to have a field in this plain where various herbs could be cultivated, so that her academic research would be convenient. I remembered that there was relevant content in Nora’s Code of Nature, so I planned to try it out.”

"However, it seems to have failed." She shrugged, "By the way, fellow clan, when will we set off for Amasir?"

"Well... at least ten days, at most no more than 20 days, what's the matter?"

"If we continue to go by carriage, it will take more than a month." Misha said slowly, "Can we arrive before June?"

"If there are no accidents, it should be fine." Cyril calculated and nodded.

Misha nodded slightly and said: "If you can come, it's fine. At the end of June, the elves will have a grand festival, the Mufeng Festival. My fellow clan, I hope you can participate in the Mufeng Festival this time."

"Mufeng Ceremony?" Cyril was stunned for a moment, his expression gradually becoming weird, "But I am a half-elf, even if you Exivan elves don't care about the identity of a half-elf, other elves..."

But Misha interrupted him, and her voice was unprecedentedly dignified: "To be exact, I want to invite you, my fellow clan, to participate in the Mufeng Ceremony in my own name."

"But..." Cyril was still hesitating—the Mufeng Ceremony is a unique festival belonging to the elves, and it is actually a competition.It's not impossible to insist on participating, but the key point is that this festival has no oil or water, and there are not many benefits.

And Misha seemed to see through his hesitation, she turned around, looked at the meandering river outside the window, and said softly:
"After winning—I mean if you win."

"The Wind-Wearing Corolla, I can give it to you."

(End of this chapter)