Frilian: Starting with Wind Spirit and Moon Shadow, Playing Through the Heavens

The moment Mislen saw Ronan, she immediately understood that this tall man was definitely not simple.

Black hair and black eyes are typical features of East Asians.

He had a gentle demeanor, almost like an aristocrat, yet his eyes revealed indifference and disregard.

This is a sign of extreme self-confidence.

'He probably has the ability to kill me…'

Mislen thought to herself,

'No, it's because that elf can definitely kill me?'

"Let's assume he's on the same level as our senior. If we can handle him, we should be able to handle our senior too..."

Thinking of this, he nodded before finally speaking:

“Nice to meet you. I am Mislen from the Coronhill family. I have come to see you alone because of some matters.”

"Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"Why do you want to see me alone? Your target should be Celia, right?"

Ronan's tone was slightly dismissive, and he looked calmly at Mislen as if he were looking at someone insignificant.

He took a sip of the black tea in front of him, paused, and continued:

"Or are you trying to deal with me because you can't handle her?"

"Are you taking me for a pushover?"

“No, that’s not what we meant,” Mislen shook her head in denial.

However, the hint of hesitation that flashed in the one eye he opened made his words seem unconvincing.

Ronan smiled:

"If that's not what it meant, what else could it mean? We're all adults, there's no need to beat around the bush."

"It's just some ancient magic. Isn't magic created so that others can learn it?"

“If you think you can capture me so that Celia will surrender, then I can only say that you are mistaken.”

"Moreover, we made the worst decision."

Mislen remained silent.

Whether it is wrong or not.

You'll only know if you do it.

Besides, this is just a conversation; it's not time to actually take action yet.

Just as he was about to continue the conversation, Ronan suddenly put down his teacup, leaned forward, and stared intently at him:

“Mithren of the Coronhill family…that’s a strange name. Do you know Milcirill of the Thor family?”

Upon hearing the name Milsilr, Mislen suddenly looked up, a hint of doubt flashing in his dark eyes.

"She's here too?"

As the squad's vice-captain decades ago, in terms of pure strength, Milsilr was still superior to him.

Because she is skilled in swordsmanship and magic that manipulates puppets.

Those dolls can wield swords skillfully, are stronger than adults, and are immune to injury; one of them can be as powerful as dozens or even hundreds of people.

Seeing a slight change in Mislen's eyes, Ronan nodded and said knowingly:

"Hmm, it seems you should know her."

"I think you need to study her methods, because she knows she may not be my opponent, so she keeps an eye on me from the shadows."

"I discovered her this morning. In order to continue monitoring her, she changed into a maid outfit, which was both pleasing to the eye and eye-catching."

"And you, on the other hand, came knocking on our door."

At this point, Ronan shook his head, seemingly very dissatisfied with Mislen's insincere actions.

Everyone knows that you should bait the area before fishing; to start electrofishing is incredibly rude.

He continued to stare at Mislen, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table, his tone calm yet carrying a hint of pressure:

"So, shall we make a move?"

Upon hearing this, Mislen slowly came to her senses.

He could hear a hint of expectation in that leisurely tone.

What's wrong with tall people these days?

Far from being afraid of elves, on the contrary...

He simply couldn't imagine what Milsilr would look like in a maid's outfit.

"Excuse me." Mislen finally gave up on contacting Ronan.

He knew that now was not the best time to take action; the problem of the maze had not yet been solved, and he needed to go and ask Milciril about the situation first.

Seeing Mislen get up to leave, Ronan chuckled again and said:

"Are you leaving already? Won't you stay a little longer? I still have so many things I want to talk to you about."

Seeing Mislen's retreating appearance, Ronan felt somewhat disappointed.

I thought these guys would fight to the bitter end, but I didn't expect them to give up so easily.

Mislen turned around and gave Ronan a deep look, but said nothing.

He knew in his heart that he had lost this confrontation; he had neither gained the upper hand in the conversation nor been led by the nose.

One senior elf was already overwhelming them, and now there's another one...

Indeed, the world is changing too fast, and past experience is somewhat outdated. For the safety of the team, we need to plan ahead.

"Perhaps we can lead them into the maze..."

As Mislen left the room, a sudden, profound thought flashed through her mind.

He frowned slightly, and the more he thought about it, the more feasible the plan seemed.

Because the rules of the maze are...

……

Ronan bid farewell to Mislen and returned to his room with a somewhat sentimental feeling.

He was about to tell Celia the news of his "great victory".

As soon as they entered the room, they saw Celia standing in front of the mirror changing her clothes.

The clothes looked very familiar, a black and white combination.

Ronan raised an eyebrow, looking at her with interest.

"You're back."

Celia turned around, her skirt billowing, and struck an elegant pose.

"How is it? Did they give you any trouble? I really don't understand why they came to you first instead of me."

"I have no idea what those guys are thinking."

She muttered something under her breath, clearly annoyed, but quickly regained her composure and asked with a smile,

"Do I look good in this outfit? This is the first time I've ever worn something like this. What do you think?"

Ronan answered truthfully: "Quite excellent."

Although it's unclear what triggered Celia to suddenly change into such an outfit, it has nothing to do with me.

He only needs to quietly appreciate the beautiful scenery before him.

Hearing Ronan's answer, Celia became even happier.

She thought that as long as she looked good, it wouldn't have been in vain that she had put so much effort into dressing up.

This should make the image of Melphine fade from Ronan's mind.

How can a stranger compare to oneself?

Thinking this, she sat back on the bed and began asking about going to the maze tomorrow.

The master of the labyrinth must still be alive.

Once they capture him, the demon will be theirs.

At that time, everything you want to know will be verified.

Chapter 145, Entering the Tower, the Leos Siblings; Demons who surrender willingly, let me see your limits!

"Is everyone here? Let's talk about the Tower of Night Cries."

"Should we take this opportunity to arrest the senior, or that tall man?"

In the brightly lit room, with the soundproof barrier set up, Mislen asked the team members in front of him.

A woman was fixing her nails with her head down, her skin was brownish-black, and she had a mature and sophisticated air about her.

Upon hearing the sound, she slowly raised her head and said nonchalantly:

"Why bother with an arrest? It's too risky, I won't do it."

“Our mission is only to suppress the labyrinth, not to fight monsters that are thousands of years old. You are gambling with our lives.”

Mislen: "This is His Majesty's order."

"That's why I hate Your Majesty. What do you think I was arrested for? I am well aware of the power of ancient magic."

"So what if the Tower of Night Cries can suppress the power of magic? So what if the powerful can take everything from the weak?"

"Can you really guarantee that you can beat her at climbing towers?"

The dark-skinned beauty who spoke was named Hisheys, and she was imprisoned for crimes including using ancient magic, instigating murder, forgery, and fraud.

Having lived for nearly 150 years, she cherished her life and deeply resented the powerful and wealthy, especially the Queen.