Chapter 38: My name is Jeanne

Ask for a collection, thank you friends, the second is today, two less than seven thousand words, go out tomorrow, and less.
No. 7 innocent giant opened a new book, try three more times next Monday, please give your help.
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Early morning sunlight shines through this simple window into this simple stone house behind the church.
The window of the room is located to the southeast. When the morning light was lazily spilled into the room, the old man Aquinas pushed the wooden door with his back arched, but in his hand was a bucket of well water.
Some old wooden barrels were steadily carried by the old man in his hands, picked up and poured into the tub. He dipped in a towel, walked to the bed, and gently wiped the little nun's cheek and forehead on the bed.
It seems that because of the coolness of the spring water, the little girl opened her eyes slightly.
The sunlight shining into the window is a little dazzling.
She closed her eyes slightly, slowly, and opened them again, her eyes still as clear as before. The old man gently took her slightly palm and whispered: "It's alright."
The girl blinked, and her countless complex emotions were suppressed by her, but in the end she shed two lines of tears silently, biting her lips gently, and said nothing.
"He is still him, you are still you, and will not change because of anything," the old man gently wiped the girl's tears, "but now, are you willing to listen to my old man?"
The girl clenched her fingers slightly, closed her eyes, and let the tears drip down and nodded gently.
"He will leave here too."
The old man's words made the girl's eyes slightly red, her lips pursed, but she still didn't speak.
The wooden door that had not been closed was gently knocked.
Aquinas smiled and turned around, "Come in."
Murphy's figure stepped into the house gently, and the dazzling golden sunlight projected on his back from top to bottom, and he could not clearly see his features. I can see the silhouette bathed in the light, although it is not tall, but it makes her think of the words in the Old Testament that the old man often holds.
"He stood alone under the Holy Light, pitying mortals, and walking towards immortality."
Murphy's image today may be the most neatly dressed after coming to Tarrens College, but it is also the most plainly dressed.
Without a luxurious silk robe, the dark common cloth and the short sword in the waist made him look more like an ordinary swordsman class student. The bandages on his arms were changed a few times, and he no longer oozed blood. Murphy did not go too far, keeping a suitable distance.
"teacher."
Looking at Murphy's standard noble ritual, Aquinas nodded, "In a dirty world, you must learn these things. If you are clean, then someone will always wipe you, so we only need to let a clean heart Just hide under the same surface as these people."
Murphy straightened his waist, said nothing, and turned to the little nun who was still lying on the bed.
The latter had teardrops in the corners of his eyes. For a long time, he smiled softly at Murphys.
Silent, but has reached ten thousand words.
Murphy pursed his lips, and finally said nothing, but the old man turned his back to Murphy on the table overwhelmed by books. The sound of the parchment could only be heard in the stone house. The atmosphere was silent.
Finally, the old man sorted out a neat stack of parchment paper, turned around and handed it to Murphy: "I always say I am an ignorant shepherd, because the more knowledge I touch, the more I feel my shallowness, So I stopped writing this book."
A thick stack, not a draft, but an extremely clean and concise finished copy, almost a thousand pages.
"When you feel that the road in front of you is confused, you may be able to find the answer from here."
The old man gently hammered his waist, and his fingers gently crossed the heavy book on the table beside him.
"If you don't understand, you can come to me, but I can't seem to wait for the day when this book is completed."
Aquinas sighed with some unspeakable desolation and closed her eyes slightly. The old man walked out of the house step by step. Murphy watched him out of the door. The old man left in the golden sunlight. A blurred silhouette of the back, as if integrated into the Holy Light.
At this moment, Murphy suddenly felt that the manuscript in his hand was heavy.
Turning her head, some dazed the wooden bed quickly reached out and wiped the corners of her eyes. The two stared at each other silently for a while, and finally Murphys said softly, "I'm leaving."
She nodded, her movements gentle and reluctant.
Murphy, who was not good at talking, wanted to say something, but felt that his throat was blocked, opened his mouth and closed it, and finally turned away.
"My name is Murphy."
For unknown reasons, Murphy suddenly stopped at the door and turned back. He saw the girl looking at herself slightly twitched, ripped the corners of her mouth, and tightened the fingers holding the manuscript.
As soon as he walked out of the room, he thought that he would never look back. He heard the timid words from behind.
"My name is Jeanne."
The smile bloomed, although it was parting, but no more sadness.
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Although the students of Tarrens College spent three days of holidays, they did not know the specific reasons at all, but all kinds of gossip rumors vaguely pointed to the silent and aristocratic nobleman. As for the details, no one knew.
It seems that everything is back on track, but Murphy's mood is slightly heavy. Guevara brought the news of the old prince, but after having been hit by Della, Murphy was already very clear that if he wanted to learn from truth, Entering that prestigious school is a fantasy. Even if he is the son of the Duke, he still has no privileges at the Panther School of Witchcraft and Wizardry-because even the prince is subject to the admonition of his mentor there, not to mention the aristocracy?
Without magic talent, this is the most fundamental problem. Simply relying on the accumulation of knowledge to become a giant in academia is not the result that Murphy wants-he is pursuing a very simple one, that is, he can survive and protect himself. power.
And now, there is a person in his heart who wants to protect, so he understands that he must work harder towards the pyramid like a food chain.
After thinking for a night, Murphy still decided to seek the help of mentor Della. Anyway, Tarrens College can't stay any longer-the assassination in the church is very loud, and it is definitely not safe to continue to school here. The idea, and the purpose of coming to this academy is already on the road-that is, he understands the direction of his current pursuit of power.
However, it seems that the road ahead still has to be explored slowly with his own help. The glory of his father is unexpected but reasonable, and there is no shortcut for Murphy. The door of magic seems to be half-covered, so that Murphy Seeing the dawn, Si gave him a high threshold to look up to.
The tower is still lonely outside the college. Murphy knocked on the door of the mentor's room as usual. Seeing the mentor's calm face, Murphy narrated the failure of his Duke's father to "go back door" calmly, and No feelings of shame.
"Your dagger killed the puppet master at the level of the Magister, do you know what it means?"
Unexpectedly, after listening to Murphy's statement, Della deliberately diverted the topic.
"Dagger is very sharp."
"That's nonsense."
Dai stretched out her hand, very politely: "Except for the "Pagosra Link Defense Circle" I cast last time, basically a single shield below that level can resist the short sword in your hand. There are no more than ten magic effects."
Murphy suddenly realized that he knew how powerful the short sword the old guy had left him at the moment.
He drew his dagger and handed it to the instructor who had extended his hand. After the latter took it, he did not use the sword expert to wave it slightly or measure the satin of the blade with his eyes. The hand touched the dirt on the hilt that was left after a long period of use. The elements condensed on the fingertips, and the dirt that could not be wiped off by Murphys was removed, revealing its original face.
Restrained and sharp.
"Naples magic steel is one of the extinct metals on the mainland. The only meaning of existence today is to forge for some people a dagger that has more symbolic significance than practical significance. The appearance is no different from steel, and the effect of breaking the magic is unmatched. The Holy Sword' was forged from the magic steel of Naples and has now been lost."
Della looked at the hilt of the short sword in her hand suddenly, and her expression suddenly seemed to be in a trance. "I saw a handle three hundred and twenty-seven years ago. It belonged to a knight who was doing martial arts everywhere. I thought he was Very naive, but after seeing his tombstone standing on the Hex Mountain in seventy years, I have changed my mind."
The Holy Mountain of Hex, the most famous sacred place on the mainland, where the Lord left his footprints in the Old Testament.
Those who can stand the tombstones here, except for the saints recognized by the Holy Gabriel Empire and the Byzantine Empire, are only honored by the members of the "Round Table Knight Council". UU reading book www.uukanshu.com
Murphy did not know the meaning of the "Roundtable Knight Council", nor did he know where the Hex Mountain was, but vaguely remembered when Tang Jidi had mentioned this term in a trance, with very few impressions.
As for "Three Twenty-seven Years Ago" in Della's mouth, he swallowed slightly and didn't dare to think about it.
"No matter who gave you this sword, or whatever your identity is, I believe that being a knight is the smoothest and safest route for you."
Della returned her dagger, her gaze resting slightly on the bandage that covered the magic pattern on Murphy's arm. "But to explore the true meaning of magic, you will go farther than anyone else on the road to eternity."
This sentence is of great significance.
Murphy paused to insert the dagger back into the scabbard. He said nothing, remained silent for a few seconds, raised his head, and asked for the first time: "The mentor knows how much I know about my devil pattern..."
"Not much." Della looked at Murphys, looking more relaxed than she normally showed indifferently to the world, "but I won't say."
Murphy nodded as expected, because the old fellow Don Quixote responded to this question in the same way.
"If you want, go to Cauchy Knight Academy."
"Then you..."
"I have my task, although I will not interfere with any of your decisions in the years to come, but during this time, you are my apprentice, and I am your mentor, it's that simple."
Della's answer was very simple, but Murphy already knew what she was going to do, and nodded silently.
"The new book list is here, get it yourself." As always, Della handed out a piece of parchment. "Come here every weekend, and practice classes are not limited."
Murphy silently prayed a few words for the unlucky blood race upstairs, and he was relieved.