MTL - After Being Fancied by a Necromancer-Chapter 7

Cyril recalled the old dagger he had seen in the second-hand shop on Crescent Street.

Should buy it.

Cyril's eyes flashed with regret, he was not sure he could deal with them.

Nothing else on you matters.

Mainly the tapestry that recorded spells and magic runes, something that must not be taken away.

Cyril's face was ruthless, and he planned an escape route in his heart.

Suddenly the snake in his breast pocket began to wriggle again.

The little snake slowly stuck its head out.

The three boys on the opposite side were stunned to see the snake.

The aristocratic young master in their impression will keep a large hound that looks domineering and fierce.

The noble ladies love snow-white kittens with soft fur, but few people keep snakes, and it is a snake that looks a little weird.

The little dark green snake wrapped around Cyril's shoulder, and the silver thread dark pattern on the snake suddenly brightened. Thin cheeks, inexplicably have the meaning of a horror fairy tale.

Cyril has been keeping an eye on the confrontation in front of him, and he is keenly aware of the sloppy eyes of these boys, no matter what the reason is, he runs away.

The cold wind in the autumn blew on Cyril's pale cheeks with a damp and cold breath, and the cold wind drilled into his nose, which was very uncomfortable.

But he didn't dare to stop easily.

His body is too thin now and his physical strength is not good.

Cyril used his willpower to support himself to run forward desperately.

Run, don't stop.

It wasn't until he struggled to run out several streets that he couldn't move his legs any longer, and then he stopped and looked back out of breath.

No one came after.

His face was flushed, sweat dripped from his forehead, his chest was stuffy, and his legs were weak and heavy.

Cyril leaned his back against the wall, raised his head and pressed the back of his head against the wall, trying to calm his breathing.

The little snake did not know when it had returned to his chest pocket.

After going back, you still have to step up time to meditate, work hard to improve your spiritual power to absorb elements, and then learn the spells and magic runes on the old tapestry as soon as possible, and then find a way to find a way to enter the wizarding world!

The feeling of not having enough power to protect yourself sucks.

He realizes that this is not a very safe society, the history is vague, the power of wizards and knights are intertwined, the huge class and wealth gap...

Cyril sighed.

After the violent aura had passed, Cyril walked towards Crescent Street under the navigation of the system.

Seeing the beautiful, tidy and well-ordered streets of Crescent Street again, he had a lot of thoughts.

Two short hours, really exciting.

Cyril looked at the amount of silver left in the cloth bag and felt that he could not treat himself badly, after all, he would have a stable source of income after all.

There are many plants in the foggy moon forest, and the trader Donald can also directly sell it for himself.

He tasted cheesecake and cherry cheese at a bakery with an enticing aroma along Crescent Street, and he quickly fell in love with these delicious little desserts.

What anti-human invention is the nutrient solution of the interstellar age!

Cyril sighed again.

The sweet cake is extraordinarily soft, the moist and mellow cheese melts on the tip of the tongue, and the happiness brought by the sweetness takes away all the troubles.

The sweet cherry juice splashed in the mouth, and the sweetness was immersed in the heart.

Cyril had cake in his mouth, his big almond eyes narrowed happily, and he licked his lips reluctantly after he finished eating.

The little cakes are awesome!

He bought several other cakes and planned to keep half of them for himself to eat later, and the other half for Aunt Maria to thank them for their previous care.

At 3:50, Cyril walked out of the bakery to the Crescent Street entrance where he got off.

Donald's carriage was parked nearby.

Cyril greeted the coachman and got into the coach.

Donald carefully held the pocket watch in one hand, while looking at Cyril, who had returned home with a little surprise.

The two whiskers on the thick lips quivered as his lips opened and closed: "Yes, on time! It looks like you have a lot."

Cyril nodded, took out the 10 silver coins he had prepared in the bakery from his pocket and handed it to Donald, and said, "This is the fare for this time, thank you! "

Donald's small eyes glanced, and he knew something, he put away his pocket watch, reached out to take the silver coin, and asked casually: "Do you need me to sell those herbs for you later? I I'll give you a very favorable ratio, eighty-two, no more."

Cyril nodded.

"Steve's Pharmacy, sorry. I'll deliver the goods to you next Saturday morning."

He has learned the price of these plants, whether they are resold by the dealer, he can concentrate on meditation in the foggy moon forest.

Donald's attitude suddenly became enthusiastic, he rubbed his hands, and found two ordinary glass bottles from a large pile of goods to be brought back to Codswood Town for sale. He threw a bottle to Cyril.

“Old fruit wine, the favorite drink of the children in the town.”

Donald pulled out the cork himself, took a sip, and said, "What a nostalgic taste. The same taste as thirty years ago."

Cyril originally wanted to say that he was no longer a child, but his eyes were suddenly drawn to something outside the car window.

At this time, the carriage has driven to a very wide road, and three steam carriages are heading in the other direction.

The backs of the horses were draped with ornaments embroidered with family crests, the ornate and intricate patterns were dazzling, and the brass gears were clean and shiny.

The driver of the carriage wore a straight uniform and looked proud.

"It was the carriage of the mansion of the Earl of Abraham."

Donald followed Cyril's line of sight and muttered when he saw the three steam carriages.

He had an envious look on his face.

"I heard that the mansion of the Earl of Abraham is very beautiful! It's splendid! If he can be received by the Earl..."

Donald sighed softly.

Until the steam carriages could no longer be seen, Cyril withdrew his gaze and looked calm.

He also uncorked and took a sip of wine.

It was sour at the beginning, but after the strength passed, it was a little sweet, and there was a different taste.

They returned to the town of Codswood successfully at 8:30 pm.

The cool water moonlight illuminates the quiet and peaceful country town, which is a different scene from the bustling Philadelphia.

For the next month, Cyril continued with his previous life.

Delivery to Donald once a week.

He choked on soot on the stovetop in the test kitchen, and gave up his plan to cook food by himself.

When she didn't stay in the foggy moon forest, Cyril went to Uncle Allen's restaurant to enjoy the food, and ordered different meals every time, which was nice.

He has been able to successfully convert psychic power into magic power.

It's just that Cyril always feels exhausted every time after releasing the spell, and it is difficult to recover his energy even after meditation.

The system said that there should be a suitable magic potion to eliminate this side effect of beginners practicing magic spells, but now he has no access to magic potions, and can only rely on delicious food for comfort.

***

No one will refuse a silver coin delivered to your door.

As Cyril appears more and more in the eyes of town residents (more and more consumption in various stores), everyone is gradually getting used to this before there is no sense of existence The boy reappeared and praised his gentleness and courtesy.

After a month of "eating and drinking", thanks to the contribution of the fresh and delicious fish, cows, sheep and other cute animals in the town of Codswood, Cyril has finally grown Order meat.

From the skinny appearance he used to, he has returned to his current bamboo-like appearance.

Cyril's cheeks that were sunken because of his thinness also plumped up, and his once pale complexion was now radiant with a soft luster under the nourishment of cow's milk.

His hair is no longer dry and bifurcated, but becomes supple with sufficient nutrition.

Cyril washed his hair well before realizing that his black hair had a little lovely natural curls.

In order to keep the hair on both sides of her cheeks out of sight, Cyril used a beautiful silver-green hairband to tie a small tug at the back of her head.

As autumn became more intense, he also spent a lot of silver coins on new clothes.

I have to say that Sophia's tailors in the town are very skilled. Although it was a little awkward to measure the size, the clothes Cyril finally got were very satisfactory.

A fine linen white shirt, a sheepskin jacket tucked into new breeches, and a pair of knee-length black leather boots, Cyril's new look.

"It couldn't be more spirited!"

Sophia the tailor couldn't help nodding.

When Cyril dressed in new clothes politely smiled and nodded at the town residents, everyone smiled back happily.

"Look at Lawrence, he looks like a little gentleman. Unlike our bad boy, he can't even earn silver coins when he is so big!"

"Yeah! I heard from Donald that the industrious Lawrence was gathering herbs in the Smoky Moon Forest and asked him to sell them in Philadelphia."

"Ever since Lawrence's uncle died, Maria was worried that the child would have a hard time, and asked Fitz to find a job for him in the tavern. Unexpectedly, Lawrence recovered himself."

"But I don't dare to let my little Torres go to the foggy moon forest. It's a hard job. It's not because of Lawrence's uncle..."

“Do you still remember the foggy moon forest before…”

The chatter of the town residents after dinner did not affect Cyril.

In other words, he intentionally appeared in the public eye, as for the reason...

***

On a bleak moonlit night, Cyril came out of the foggy forest as usual and walked to his chalet.

Today he felt that his spiritual power and magic power had broken through again, which was really a happy thing.

The secluded, always deserted path where he came home was unexpectedly lively tonight.

Several town boys who were much taller than Cyril stood in the way.

Cyril, who was blocked again, complained in his heart that this was a similar experience to the Philadelphia slums a month ago.

He looked at the boys and narrowed his eyes slightly.

In the memory of the original body, Cyril was isolated and bullied by them when he was a child, especially this boy named Rasip, who was the leader.

"Hey! Hand over your herbs!"

Rasip said in a hoarse voice.

The boys standing behind him were also smiling, seemingly proud of catching Cyril, the "fat sheep".

They obviously think highly of themselves and don't take themselves seriously.

Cyril's round almond eyes turned, seeing that they didn't even have a weapon, he slightly hooked his lips, and quietly hid his right hand behind him.

Then he lowered his head and lowered his long eyelashes, covering the emotions in his eyes.

Lasip looked at Cyril's cowardly appearance, and suddenly became more arrogant.

"Lawrence! I advise you to be sensible! Obediently hand over your things! Otherwise my fist will make you look good!"

The boy puffed out his chest, and the drake threatened with a gruff voice.

"Yes, yes! Get to know Lawrence!"

The other boys giggled in agreement.

Cyril was silent when he heard the words, his long black eyelashes trembled slightly, which was quite pitiful.

"Come and get it yourself."

Cyril said softly.

After he finished speaking, he stretched out his left hand carrying the cloth bag and handed it to him.

Lasip was delighted.

The boy whistled defiantly, celebrating his victory in advance.

He strode up to Cyril and stretched out his hand unsuspectingly to grab the bag.

The next moment, a sharp object touched his neck.

Lasip's legs were a little soft, and the cold touch of the crossbow reminded him what happened - the seemingly docile bunny showed his unknown fangs.

"Grass! (a plant

Rasip cursed.

What he responded to was that the crossbow bolt against his neck was pressed harder.

Rasip was silent for a moment, he looked down at Cyril's close eyes, calm and indifferent.

Inexplicable, a cold air rushed straight from the tailbone to the top of his head.

"I advise you to be a little more sensible! Don't move! Otherwise my crossbow arrows will make you look good!"

Cyril imitated Rasip's tone just now and said slowly.

The author has something to say:

Cyril: I cried, I pretended.