If it were truly as they thought, then the current situation was somewhat terrifying. It was as if they had broken into a house, and everyone thought this house was nice and could be their next residence. But before they could even warm their seats, the owner of the house had slowly walked down from the second floor.
And unfortunately, the leader of their team had even said to the owner of this house: "This house is really too good. Can you give me your key?"
Although they had previously thought that their own leader was a bit rigid and her mind was a bit hard to turn, they had not expected that on such a major matter, she could still cause such a thing to happen. If they could, they really wanted to give this leader of theirs a bit more emotional intelligence. Just a little bit would be enough. As long as their leader wouldn't say such awkward words at a critical moment...
As if sensing the strange atmosphere around them, this female magus, the leader, also opened her mouth slightly, but she still couldn't understand what she had said wrong.
Aslan looked at the female magus before him. Seeing that she still didn't understand what she was saying, he gently shook his head. Then, the forging hammer in his hand struck the ground. The entire ground rapidly transformed, and then one after another of spears appeared. Unlike the previous magus who had transformed concrete, these spears that were now pressed against the female magus's throat had truly turned into metal.
And the reason they had turned into metal was because of the Faerie Letters inscribed on the tips of the spears.
This female magus looked at the long-sought-after Faerie Letters before her. At this very moment, however, she did not feel the slightest bit of joy. What joy? At this time, it was already a great mercy from heaven that she was not terrified.
Perhaps it was in this life-threatening situation that this female magus finally connected all the clues provided by the bits and pieces of information. At the same time, she also recalled the old-fashioned stories that the older generation had told her when she was a child. Many of those old-fashioned stories were about the same person.
That person was a genius, and also a great villain in the mouths of magi. That person was precisely the great blacksmith—Aslan.
Not the student of Faerie Letter research who had been somewhat famous in their Clock Tower a few years ago, but the one from 1500 years ago, the great hero who had been active in the era of King Arthur and had opened the way for human forging to rival divine creation.
What had she just said? Was she using the Clock Tower to threaten this existence before her?
Was she tired of living?
I #########!!!
This female magus silently cursed herself with all the words she had once used on others. And each curse was uglier than the last. Now that things had come to this, for these words to be cursed at herself, this female magus's heart found it a bit difficult to bear. But she was still worried that this was not enough to extinguish the anger of the strong person before her. And so, she stretched out her hand again and continuously slapped her own cheek.
"I deserve to die! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"
Aslan raised an eyebrow and gently shook his head. "I gave you a chance. So your current actions are not enough to make up for this mistake..."
Aslan's light-blue eyes, under the reflection of the magical energy, appeared incomparably calm, like a lake without any ripples. Such a small matter was actually not enough to cause any ripples in Aslan's heart. There was no joy, let alone any anger. He had just heard that this matter was related to him, so he had come here out of interest.
And just as he had not worn any armor and had directly broken in, the magi before him, no matter what kind of magical attack or verbal attack, had no effect on him at all.
In the eyes of others, everything this female magus had done was enough to anger a strong person. But in Aslan's eyes, all of this was simply like a farce, and not a very good one at that. Compared to the stories written by Shakespeare, this farce was really a bit low-level and uninteresting. It could only be said to be a little bit of a small joke that he had rarely heard in his long life. But that was all. He was already 1500 years old. This middle-aged female magus, in his eyes, was actually just a little baby.
Aslan stated that he, a great old man, would not go so far as to get angry with a little baby. But his calm and indifferent attitude gave the middle-aged female magus a start. She began to think about how she could make the person before her let her go. She needed to offer a price. It was just, what kind of price would be enough? If the price was too low and it completely angered the person before her, what should she do?
As the saying goes, scaring oneself is worse than anything.
In short, the middle-aged female magus stated that she had not lived enough. It was precisely because she had not lived enough that she had to think about what kind of price would satisfy the person before her.
The more she thought about her own situation, the more this female magus directly raised her right hand and slapped her left hand hard. The powerful magical energy caused the entire forearm of her left hand to suffer a comminuted fracture. Then, she slapped her own feet again, also resulting in a comminuted fracture.
"To obtain your forgiveness, I have crippled my own left hand and both feet. I know that this is still not enough to obtain your forgiveness, so..."
Aslan was stunned for a moment, then raised his eyebrows. Good grief. He hadn't said anything, yet the female magus before him had already imagined all the bad outcomes. But this outcome was not bad. After all, he could be considered to have created an era. In the entire West, he was the ancestor of all the new-era equipment blacksmiths. If not everyone who stepped on him had to pay a price, then he was afraid that everyone would come and provoke him. Therefore, Aslan understood why the female magus before him still had actions to take but did not continue to stop them.
Most importantly, his own identity had been exposed. To live well in this era, one had to be strong enough, suppressive enough, threatening enough, and the kind of powerful and threatening that others could do nothing about. After his identity was exposed, the one most likely to find trouble with him was the Clock Tower. For the peace of his own life in the future, then he shouldn't be blamed for reminding the Clock Tower of what a nightmare was called.
The female magus directly raised her own hand and destroyed her own throat. She then spat out a mouthful of blood, mixed with shredded flesh. Clearly, with the current state of this female magus, even if there was a magus with superb medical skills, other treatments would leave unimaginable after-effects. Then, this female magus, enduring the pain and the disability of her body, once again bent down and bowed.