Mouse Brother, Squeeze In

Vanished into thin air.

Those were the centaur captain's exact words.

Yet no one believed such nonsense, and still, the truth lay right before them.

Everyone had seen that black-haired young man carry the woman upstairs. Familiar sounds had come from the room as expected. Everything had seemed perfectly natural, so why had the man vanished without a trace?

Had it been anyone else, no one would have cared. But a dense Moon Elf aura had been found in this room, and seven Moon Elf Archmages had abruptly disappeared half a month ago. All these signs pointed to this place being the key to the Moon Elves' disappearance.

And that was only secondary.

Jon, the Neon Magister, had been ambushed at the beginning of the pilgrimage.

His pregnant wife, soon to give birth, along with the three thousand Elves following her, had all been captured.

Though it had not been made public, there was no doubt that this was an unprecedented loss for the Elven race.

What the Elven upper ranks cared about most, however, was the Ancient Descendant. Through various means, they had learned that the ambushers came from the human Storm City and Hurricane Tower, with the shadow of Bailando City faintly visible behind them as well.

Humans and Elves were both powerful races on the Red Soil Continent. They maintained close cooperation, yet also competed fiercely for position.

Title Magisters were the ultimate power of both races, determining their standing on the Red Soil Continent.

An Ancient Elven Descendant meant that the Elven race might gain another Title Magister.

It was only natural for humans to sabotage this. After obtaining the intelligence, the Elven upper ranks had negotiated with the humans several times, hoping to retrieve the Elven Descendant through peaceful means.

As a human frontier city-state, Storm City had not denied it, making the Elves believe even more that rescuing the Ancient Descendant was possible.

But now, in an utterly ordinary town on the Wasteland, they had found the aura of the Ancient Descendant for the first time ever. And the blood-soaked sheets were enough to determine that some sort of ritual had once taken place here.

Possibly a sacrifice.

On the Red Soil Continent, there was no shortage of races that practiced sacrifice. Witches and warlocks were especially rampant among them.

Jon could tell at a glance that his bloodline had once appeared here, and very recently at that.

Vanished into thin air? Jon did not believe it. At the very least, after he arrived, not a single living creature could escape his spiritual perception.

"Are you his attendant?" Jon looked down at the tiny Horse Dwarf, gentle and kindly, as though the devastating methods from moments ago had never existed.

The Horse Dwarf looked at the laborers in the distance who were continuously turning into humanoid flames, then hurriedly shook his head. Half a day ago, those people had still been drinking and clinking cups with him.

Now, they were being interrogated without pause.

A large number of Elves entered Madinger Town, gathering information layer by layer with the Windmill at the center.

"You said he had black eyes, correct?"

"He was as tall as me. Exactly how tall was that? His skin was somewhat yellow. Can you confirm that?"

"The woman had golden hair? Did you sense magical fluctuations? Are you certain he was human?"

"You booked the room, and you prepared everything in it, correct? Did he tell you the room's true purpose?"

The Horse Dwarf trembled. These beautiful Elves looked like demons who would swallow him whole, skin and bones alike, as if they could not wait to devour him.

He had not lied, nor did he dare to. He confessed everything he knew.

Unfortunately, it was nowhere near enough.

He had only provided a tiny scrap of useful information.

Li Ziran.

That name alone barely kept him alive.

As for the travelers who had merely brushed past Li Ziran, they could only vaguely describe some physical characteristics. Most of what they said was that the two had been hugging and embracing together.

Clearly, the Elves did not want to hear such useless information. For useless people, a fireball was all the explanation needed.

"You said you found a Moon Elf basement and some red dots?" Jon asked quietly. He was very amiable, yet carried an authority that could not be defied.

The Horse Dwarf said shakily, "Yes. In the Minotaur's basement, he stripped all that rotten flesh off and made the Minotaur and me search through the pile of meat..."

Though it was not the first time, he still described the conditions in the basement as specifically as he could. He even carefully drew the shape of that circular mark and handed over every copper coin Li Ziran had given him, including that precious silver coin.

He was very cooperative.

Every laborer and every centaur in the Windmill was cooperative.

But this Archmage was clearly dissatisfied.

"Master, that is all the information we have. What should we do now?" a Fire Elf asked respectfully. She had already organized all the information.

The culprit was Li Ziran, around twenty years old, black-haired and black-eyed, a wizard currently holding the Ancient Elven Descendant and conducting some kind of sacrificial ritual. His abilities were unknown. The woman accompanying him might be his assistant.

That was the information obtained through interrogation.

Jon waved a hand. His face grew even paler. He glanced at the Horse Dwarf trembling nonstop in the corner and sighed softly. "Search their souls. Their memories can provide more detailed information."

The Horse Dwarf did not understand. His face was blank, but the Fire Elf froze, staring blankly at this Elven Title Magister.

Soul Search, also known as Memory Search, used overwhelming spiritual power to invade the target's cerebral cortex and probe their memories.

It was the favorite method of Psychic Mages, but this spell had originally come from the demon race that had once invaded the Red Soil Continent.

Demons called it the profound essence of sorcery, but on the Red Soil Continent, all mages collectively called it forbidden evil magic.

The reason was that the cerebral cortex was the most fragile organ of any living being. Overwhelming spiritual power would directly destroy the active brain tissue within it. Once memories were searched, one would almost certainly become an idiot.

Even for those lucky enough to avoid that fate, their memories would greatly decline, and intermittent amnesia would become as common as a daily meal.

Forbidden evil magic was absolutely banned by all mages, and among the Elves, it was explicitly prohibited.

"Master!" She wanted to ask once more.

Jon's icy gaze swept directly toward her. "Did you not understand? Or do you wish to defy my order?"

Madinger Town seemed to be engulfed in a storm in an instant, placed under complete martial law.

Without Elven permission, no living creature was allowed to step out of Mading'er Town. Everyone had to register and obey the Elves' arrangements.

They lined up on the road and entered the Windmill in batches.

The laborers crowded onto the road, staring nervously at the huge fan slowly turning in the distance.

They knew only one thing: a wizard named Li Ziran had come here and was conducting a mysterious ritual.

All they had to do was cooperate with the Elves' investigation. As long as they could prove they had not come into contact with that wizard, all would be well.

They were quiet and obedient.

They did not notice the blank-eyed living beings being led out from the Windmill's back door like livestock and sent into the animal pens nearby.

Now, they were only curious about who Li Ziran was and what this wizard was doing.

Li Ziran, huh.

At that moment, he was wedged in a crack between rocks, constantly flicking his tongue as he faced off against a group of yellow-furred rats with bristling coats.

After drilling from the large round bed underground into a rat hole, Li Ziran had fled all the way downward.

The rat tunnels extended in every direction, nearly boring through the Windmill's entire wall. Li Ziran had chosen a branching passage: one side led upward, while the other stretched straight underground.

Without hesitation, Li Ziran chose the downward path. On the second floor, he had personally seen Elves swarming in and Hippogriffs circling in the sky, dense as a stirred-up swarm of bees.

After reaching the first floor, he had seen Elves charging upstairs. By the time he arrived at the underground bathhouse, he heard the Windmill's roof being ripped away.

The terrifying pressure of the Two-Headed Chimera made Li Ziran, in his Black-Spotted Snake form, shudder. Without a second thought, he drilled underground.

Only after reaching the bottom did he discover just how formidable these rats were.

If the Windmill's walls could be called a maze of passages leading in all directions, then underground was a world made entirely of tunnels.

Hole connected to hole, passage cut through passage, crossing and winding. A single junction often had four or five openings, and after walking fewer than five steps, there would be another junction. It was an underground labyrinth.

After slipping through just two tunnels, he lost the scent of the original rats. But to avoid being discovered by the Elves, Li Ziran could not care about anything else. He randomly picked a hole leading downward.

But a venomous snake like him entering a rat nest was like a Title Magister charging into Madinger Town. It was nothing less than a disaster.

The cowardly rats saw their natural enemy and fled madly deeper underground.

Li Ziran had no intention of eating rats, nor did he have the appetite. But the rats did not see it that way. Li Ziran's constantly flicking tongue was enough to scare the little creatures out of their wits.

Often, before he even reached them, the rats would squeak and scurry away. After passing beneath the Windmill's foundation, they entered the rock layer beneath the Wasteland. Following the paths carved out by the rats, he crossed the soil layer and rock layer, descended into the deeper sedimentary rock, and finally arrived at the present standoff.

Li Ziran could currently see more than three hundred yellow-furred rats. They were huddled into a ball, their fur standing straight up like hedgehog spines, using it to resist him, this ferocious predator.

They had nowhere to retreat. Their sharp teeth could pierce the rocks near the surface, but they could not penetrate the solid sedimentary rock.

Li Ziran looked at his opponents and could not help but smile bitterly. He was only running for his life. He had not wanted to eat them.

He was not afraid of them. One bite, one rat. But he truly had no appetite.

Squeak, squeak!

Several bolder rats cautiously moved forward, intending to drive this fellow away.

Hiss!

Li Ziran instinctively flicked his tongue. Those few provocateurs instantly retreated, while several rats behind them curled up even deeper inside.

For a real venomous snake, this would have been a grand feast. But he was not one.

Eating a rat raw was completely impossible for him.

But what was he supposed to do now? He had already forced these rats into a dead end, just as those Elves had forced him into one.

Li Ziran could not help laughing. The affairs of the world were just that marvelous. Others forced him, and he forced these rats.

Gurgle!

Li Ziran suddenly felt nauseated. His continuous running underground had disturbed the two frogs in his abdomen. His gastric juices began reacting with the Life Tree Leaf, and the Mithril mixed within the leaf formed a unique Silver Poison that was harming his stomach.

The spreading stench made the rats squeak chaotically as they desperately squeezed together.

Li Ziran smiled bitterly.

He had to perform surgery as soon as possible, or he would digest Nicole.

And before the surgery, Li Ziran had to cut open his own belly, make an incision in his stomach, and remove those two frogs.

To perform surgery, he needed to return to human form.

But in this space no thicker than a water pipe, if he reverted to normal, he would likely be crushed to death by the enclosed underground space.

Difficult!

Li Ziran had never found anything this difficult. How had a straightforward surgery become like this?

No round bed, no collecting corpses, no capturing slaves, no journey toward the Undead Nest. Instead, he was crammed together with these rats.

Ridiculous!

Could it be that his wonderful time would be wasted on this pack of yellow-furred rats?