Chapter 90 Magnus and the Library

It was late, and the gorgeous colorful light bursting through the glass curtain wall of the Tizca Library was like a mocking oil paint, painting a magnificent color that penetrated the gray on the sky.

Standing in the golden corridor leading to the interior of the library and observing the library, excessive psychic energy of different uses was devouring each other frantically, erupting countless terrible collisions. Even Magnus felt a little dizzy when he saw this scene. He needed to analyze it with extra concentration to speculate how many kinds of changing chaos were involved in the uncontrolled annihilation phenomenon bound in the pyramid-shaped glass library.

The source of chaos was the collection hall that collected countless rare objects that Magnus and the people of Tizca had collected from countless wilderness ruins and dilapidated temples throughout the planet.

Magnus stabilized his mind, forced himself to use the psychic energy that was indispensable at the moment, supported an invisible shield to protect himself, and broke into the library.

The interior space of the entire library has been distorted. The originally bright and neat corridors and aisles are full of strange crystal tubes, like clusters of thorns and iron hooks determined to hurt people's lives, intertwined and blocked his progress. Countless psychedelic and strange pictures appeared in the white interior walls and transparent glass exterior walls, spreading the gaudy and ugly light to every dark corner. Books turned into flying pieces of paper, and each piece of debris carried countless changing runes, dedicated to misleading all those who came here through spells.

More than ten years, or more than a thousand years of Tizca's collection was destroyed today. The carrier of knowledge and wisdom was destroyed in a dispute caused by unknown people, like dust.

Magnus still has a way to reorganize and repair ordinary books through psychic power, but in such a chaotic etheric environment, Magnus had to watch them turn into passing clouds.

His heart was therefore tightly gripped, and the pain was lurking in his bones, waiting to erupt after this matter was over. As for now, Magnus could only jump and run in the chaotic space, maintain the shield against danger, and try not to let any evil and weird distract too much of his peripheral vision.

He hoped that this unknown evildoer had not caused too much harm, although the destruction of the library had made Magnus feel very hard to breathe.

The passage led to the hall. Because a crystal lamp above had broken somewhere, leaving only a chain of swaying crystal broken chains, the light in the hall was particularly unstable. Combined with countless destroyed psychic instruments, this place almost became a huge arcane furnace, continuously transporting chaotic and dirty demonic energy to the outside.

Vision was completely useless in the changes of the mysterious evil light here, and Magnus also strongly resisted opening the range of psychic perception too wide.

He groped forward like a blind man, holding onto the exhibition stand, enduring a strong nausea to guide and sort out the vortex of energy, trying to control the highly concentrated ether layer by layer from the outside, which would be enough to kill any mortal if it leaked.

This work was not going well at all. Even if we don't consider that Magnus couldn't adjust his mentality to the ether at the moment, the psychic conditions here were too bad.

Too many ancient relics produced many strange phenomena that could not be explained. Every psychic thread was closely related to other related energies. An improper operation, an incorrect extraction or truncation was enough to cause the entire complex ether structure to collapse directly. The shock wave generated was enough to break the protective runes on the outer wall of the Great Library, and even drag the entire Tizca into the abyss of destruction.

Magnus had a headache and concentrated on solving the psychic mystery here, like an extremely tired blind locksmith dealing with the 999 increasingly complex door locks in front of him.

Suddenly, the tip of his shoe hit something that was neither cold nor hard, and Magnus' heartbeat suddenly missed a beat.

The red giant squatted down his tall body and reached out to touch what he touched. He touched a raised young arm, the skin was smooth like the Bright Feather School, and the palm was nailed high on the edge of the booth by a psychic crossbow.

Following the arm down, Magnus touched some prickly hair, and the neck of the monk was still warm, and the pulse under the gold ornaments had long calmed down.

His fingers began to tremble slightly, and an unreasonable stubbornness forced him to continue to face the problem whose result he already knew.

Following the cold neck up, he touched a pair of lips wide open in pain, and the tense muscles preserved the last roar of the deceased before his death.

He touched the stiff zygomaticus minor muscle, and then the orbicularis oculi muscle. The wet ball was as small as a child's marble under his huge fingers, but the color and shape of the soft crystal naturally emerged from Magnus's memory, along with all kinds of vivid expressions and smiles in the past.

Magnus trembled as he covered the dead man's eyelids, but his oversized fingers were shaking and could not perform such a delicate operation. He put Hastal down and angrily smashed his fist on the display stand next to him, and large cracks spread from his fist.

He stood up and left the chaotic area.

The attempt just now had proved that dealing with this mess was not something Magnus could easily do now. He decided to find the group of people who were making trouble first.

It was better that they didn't make a second death.

Those chaotic footsteps and shouts came from uncertain directions in the constantly changing space. Magnus knew nothing except that the intruder seemed to be chasing someone.

From the dead Hastal, he had expected the identity of the people who made trouble today, and he sincerely hoped that it would not be them.

Away from the exhibition hall, color no longer affects Magnus’ vision. The marble floor, which was originally clean and bright and cleaned every day, has turned into several old tree branches intertwining in the dark, intersecting each other and making it difficult to identify.

He managed to approach the source of the chaos faster on the twisting and changing road, and the sound of a bookshelf collapsing gave him some guidance.

Magnus cheered up and approached the sound. In the gap between the flying paper scraps, he saw a familiar little figure, and his heart immediately filled with joy and peace.

From the first time the two met in this big library, Magnus had been very fond of this brother who, although serious, also had unique views on literature, art, science and technology; and many things that happened later proved it many times. Perturabo's reliability and generosity hidden under the steel exterior.

Perturabo's conversation with him a few days ago was still echoing in his mind. It was his guidance and urging that made Magnus determined to face his problems honestly and successfully solve his problems.

He had too many things to say to Perturabo, such as a formal and sincere thank you to this venerable brother, the restoration work of the Great Library of Tizca, and the cleaning and restoration of the ruins outside Tizca. reconstruction……

This library, which symbolizes the first meeting with Perturabo, can completely integrate the style of Olympia, and the numerous temples and dangerous places in the outside ruins also need Magnus to share with Perturabo one by one...

The unknown magic attached to a few rows of obstructive bookshelves stopped Magnus for a moment. With overflowing motivation, he cleared the obstacles, pushed aside the falling papers, and called Perturabo happily, but received no response.

Magnus poked his head out of the aisle in confusion, finding no one behind the collapsed bookshelf.

He explored forward, looking past the collapsed white wooden frame, and finally saw a small half-burnt cloth robe and a handful of charred embers quietly falling on the ground.