69novels Chapter 81 Who are you, little match girl?
Chapter 81 Who are you, little match girl?
"Thank you for saving my life."
The girl quickly stood up and thanked him.
At first, when she first saw this man, she thought he was some kind of monster.
Putting aside his unusually tall stature, the coat he was wearing was particularly eerie.
Each face was crushed and kneaded back together, as if the victims were wailing incessantly.
The girl could almost picture her face appearing there.
Just when she thought she was about to meet her dead mother, she suddenly felt a lightness in her body.
The man lifted up the wooden beam that had been pressing down on her and remained unmoved no matter how much she pushed.
Then, the man glanced at her, and her injuries were healed.
This miracle immediately reminded her of legendary magic.
"Are you a magician?"
For a moment, she forgot her fear and danger, and asked excitedly.
"A magician? More or less."
Modi touched his chin.
The method just now was actually closer to a miracle.
He's only missing divine power to be a true ancient god.
"Magic really does exist!"
The girl cheered, as if this was something exceptionally important to her.
"Whether magic exists or not is not something we should be discussing now. It's too dangerous here; you should leave the city as soon as possible."
She wanted to say something more, but Modi sent a soldier to escort her out.
He turned his head again to look at the city center where the fire was even greater, and vaguely sensed a sense of malice.
"There are still many people trapped in the city, and it will be difficult for my troops to rescue them all."
While pondering, Modi reactivated his dragon blood and voluntarily entered dragon form.
With the third mark, [Blood Transformation], he can transform into an ice dragon form even without using the pages of the book.
This is the power that flesh and blood authority bestowed upon him.
An instinctive ability.
In the blink of an eye, a massive ice dragon appeared in the fire.
He exhaled icy mist, stirring up a blizzard to quell the raging fire.
They carefully manipulated the ice mist to avoid the people in the city, lest they be frozen into ice sculptures.
As the ice fog advanced, the fire in half the city was brought under control.
Those charred humanoid figures that lingered in the city also shattered into ice shards.
Modi was about to press on and extinguish the remaining flames.
But the flames seemed to come alive, desperately resisting the onslaught of the icy mist.
"Don't put out my match!"
A sharp sound came from the fire, and the fire intensified.
Hope, pain, longing, sorrow...
The Seed of the Soul sent back feedback, and Modi never expected that a single sentence could contain such complex emotions.
"The match...could it have caused the fire?"
He wondered what the owner of the voice was thinking that would lead him to set fire to a city.
With a flap of his dragon wings, he flew into the depths of the fire, enveloped in icy mist.
The fire shrunk because of his arrival, but he faced increasing resistance.
The advance of the ice mist came to a complete halt when he saw yet another charred humanoid figure.
"Is this the arsonist?"
Modi flew to a frozen clock tower, his dragon head lowered, looking down at the ground.
The charred humanoid figure was reflected in his eyes.
It knelt on both knees, holding an empty matchbox in its hands, with burnt matches scattered at its feet.
Those matches, including the empty matchboxes, were all extraordinary props.
As someone who had had close contact with the ancient gods, he could immediately tell that there were traces of divine power on it.
It has nothing to do with the Mad King; it is another unknown divine power that should come from outside.
"The culprit behind the fire should be this ancient god's relic."
Who brought it in?
Modi realized that it wasn't something that had gone out, but rather someone that had come in through the door he had entered through.
I just don't know who that person is.
Having obtained even relics of ancient gods, they are no ordinary people.
If it's someone like Adrian, he'll have to strike hard no matter what.
"Oh, Grandma, don't leave me..."
The charcoal doll has undergone a new change.
Sparks flew from the corners of its eyes, as if it were sobbing.
Instantly, the flames burned even more fiercely.
Modi had a strong sense of déjà vu; a memory of his matched the scene.
"Grandma, matches...The Little Match Girl? Which version of the fairy tale is that?"
It might be the version that sends the whole city to see their grandmother.
Seeing the fire growing larger, he didn't dare to delay and unleashed a breath of ice and lightning.
Lightning struck, releasing an endless chill.
The petite, charred humanoid figure shattered into a pile of ice shards without any suspense.
The raging fire disappeared, leaving only a vast expanse of ice and snow.
To be fair, the charred humanoid isn't exactly weak.
But when faced with the even stronger Mordi, it could only meet its end in death.
The ice dragon descended to the ground, transformed into icy mist, and reverted to human form.
The divine leather coat fell onto Modi and remained on his body.
The dragon scale armor also returned to its original state from its shattered state.
He walked to the ice shards, bent down, and picked up the empty matchbox.
The moment he touched the matchbox, he felt as if he had been struck by an electric current and froze on the spot.
A dream unfolded slowly before his eyes.
First, he saw his grandmother.
She was in a place that seemed like heaven, opening her arms to him, surrounded by a group of bird-like angels.
Mo Di's face darkened.
"You're cursing my grandma to die, aren't you? She doesn't even believe in Christ."
The first illusion shattered instantly.
He then entered another dream.
"interesting."
He observed the scene before him with great interest.
The first thing that catches the eye is the warm fire in the fireplace, which illuminates the cabin and dispels the harsh cold of the North.
On the walls hung various monster skulls and hides, as well as greatswords and spears, showcasing the bravery of the house's owner.
He turned and looked around, and saw a wooden table covered with a steaming, plentiful meal.
"Darling, you're finally back."
A woman walked down the stairs, looked into his eyes, and a playful smile curved her lips.
She wore a white dress, her long flaxen brown hair reached her waist, and her pupils were as clear as the blue sky.
Although her appearance differed somewhat from his memory, Modi recognized her at a glance.
"Elena?"
This is a more mature Elena, both in terms of temperament and other aspects.
"Hmm, how about it? Surprised?"
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a gentle smile on her face.
"This dinner took me a lot of time to make. I haven't forgotten any of the cooking skills you taught me back then."
She moved gracefully to Mo Di's side and straightened his shirt collar.
Suddenly, she sniffed, her slender eyebrows raised, as if she were somewhat displeased.
"You went off to secretly study blood magic again, didn't you? Didn't we agree not to touch that stuff?"
She touched her lower abdomen again and said softly:
"I don't want our child's father to be stigmatized as a blood mage."
Modi narrowed his eyes, his gaze hardening.
He roughly understood Huanmeng's intentions.
"The first dream evoked my longing for my family, while the second tempted me to immerse myself in the warmth of family."
Once his heart wavers, his memory will quickly become blurred until he can no longer distinguish between dreams and reality.
Ultimately, like that charred humanoid figure, it completely fell into the illusion.
"However, I was born to strive for progress, like a spark soaring upwards. Family is never a reason for me to stagnate."
He can have a partner, but he must never stop.
The moment his resolve hardened, he abandoned this illusion.
In the blink of an eye, the false beauty shattered.
Modi calmly looked at the third illusion.
Unlike the first two, this third one is much more ambiguous.
From this, he could only see that he had already stood at the pinnacle of all realms, remaining steadfast regardless of the passage of time.
A voice rang in my ears:
"There is no road ahead, you can't go any further, it's time for you to rest."
Mo Di twitched his lips, but did not agree with what he said.
Instead, he mocked:
"First of all, there's no need to release something you can't even imagine yourself."
Ignoring the distortion in the dream, he continued speaking.
"Secondly, roads are made by people walking on them. The absence of a road ahead is not a reason for me to stop moving forward."
The illusion shattered, and he was enveloped by the feeling of falling.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself still in the city, still clutching the empty matchbox in his hand.
Modi touched the sacrificial axe at his waist, carefully sensing the demonic power within it.
"No mistake, they're back."
The power of a demon cannot be imitated or forged.
Even if someone can forge it, the corresponding demon god will sense it immediately.
It's highly unlikely that things will end well.
He then looked at the empty matchbox in his hand.
After failing three times, this thing no longer tempted him.
But Modi knew that this thing was most likely lying dormant, and once it fell into the hands of others, it would reveal its true nature.
Such a dangerous relic of the ancient god is better kept by him.
"All the matches in the matchbox have burned out, and I don't know if we'll be able to get a replacement."
After thinking about it, he decided to ask the person involved.
Relics of ancient gods will possess some degree of spirituality.
"Answer me, can you get more matches?"
He stared at the matchbox, waiting for an answer.
The empty matchbox remained motionless.
"What a stubborn guy." Mordy felt he was being looked down upon.
"If you don't answer, I'll throw you into the River Styx and make sure you never come out again."
After saying that, he actually pulled out a River Styx and pretended to sink it into the river.
Perhaps sensing the crisis, Matchbox finally responded.
"Let intelligent life sink into illusions, so that the matches can be replenished?"
Modi's gaze towards it changed instantly.
"You look like an honest little box, but I never expected you to be a cannibal."
He put the matchbox into the pocket of his leather coat, determined to find someone to try it out later.
Bazett walked to his side, bowed, and reported to his superior:
"My master, everyone in the city has been rescued."
In an instant, Modi's spiritual sense swept across the entire city, confirming that there were no omissions.
"Then let's call it a day and let them handle the rest themselves."
He didn't intend to stay and clean up the mess; saving lives was the greatest act of kindness he could have shown.
If he intervenes, it will definitely take a lot of time and effort to manage the entire city.
This contradicts his original intention in coming here.
"Wait, Mr. Magician!"
A girl who looked somewhat familiar ran over.
Looking at her smoky black hair and face, Modi quickly realized her identity.
It was the person he had saved not long ago.
"Oh, it's you. What's up?"
He listened to what the girl had to say.
"I...I wish to learn magic from you. Would you please take me on as your apprentice?"
Before she could even catch her breath, she hurriedly voiced her request.
A certain longing was driving her.
Modi stroked his chin and pointed at Arken:
"Here's what we'll do: go find that uncle with a cloth wrapped around his head who looks rich, and ask him if he'd be willing to teach you."
The girl looked in the direction he pointed and saw a strange man.
His head was wrapped in cloth, and he held a paintbrush in his hand, painting over the ruins.
The painting depicts a city engulfed in flames.