I’m Really Not The Demon God’s Lackey

Wilde once had two disciples. ÷san∫ let ∫ read ∫ book÷

When he was still an ordinary panic-level black wizard, he did not have the title of "Black Scale Faceless Man".

Because relying on language as a source of power, wild dark wizards are very rare, and almost all dark wizards have their own teachers.

Language must rely on communication to communicate, and the accuracy of language pronunciation determines the probability of ether resonance, thereby determining the power of the spell, which means that the inheritance of the black wizard must have a lot of communication.

If there is not a responsible teacher to teach hand-to-hand and face-to-face, the pheasant black wizard who comes out at the end will only be able to cast some crappy spells such as "foot slip" and "candle extinguishing".

Who would have thought that the original features of these gadgets turned out to be "corrosive quagmire" and "wind world binding lock"?

At the same time, compared to the words and marks hidden by the white wizards, the language of the black wizards can be said to be the least difficult to learn among the transcendents, and only requires "pronunciation".

This is also an important reason why there are so many black wizards at the bottom, but they are so unbearable.

——No wonder they have no money to be blacked out by the Dome Church.

Those black wizards who don't even have a rating but are doing the aftermath work for various forces are really catching a lot.

But also because of the mechanism of the black wizard's inheritance, the relationship between normal and reliable masters and disciples will be very close, and they will trust each other more than their relatives.

Wilde naturally has his teacher.

One of the three god-level black wizards in the rating list of the Truth Society, "the oldest king of words", "black emperor", "dragon whisperer", "the last of the giants"-Slater Augustus.

This legendary black wizard, a living fossil of black wizard history, has not known how many disciples he has taught in his lifetime.

But what can be known is that the dark wizards who came out of his hands eventually became the powerhouses of the famous side. ζ reference ↑ ↑ see ↑ book ζ

Wilde has always felt that he was fortunate enough to be a disciple of such a great person as a little person without background.

His last graduation work was the gargoyle given to Lin Jie.

He still remembered walking up to the old wizard with excitement and handing over his final work.

Augustus' huge thin body has almost merged with his throne-that throne is the last territory of the giant kingdom, and he cannot leave his homeland and country.

The old wizard stretched out his hand to take the gargoyle, and after looking at it for a while, he showed a kind and pleased smile, and said meaningfully:

"Fate has made a choice, and from now on, you graduate, my disciple."

The young Wilde didn't think about this sentence, but then asked the teacher's evaluation of his work.

After receiving the high evaluation of "nearly perfect masterpiece", Wilde was so excited that he could not sleep for three days. After exercising the necessary etiquette, he completed the graduation ceremony with pride.

The previous irrelevant sentence was naturally forgotten.

It wasn't until the inspiration erupted from his recent study of "The Cult of Corpse Food" that he re-dreamed of the words of the old wizard in one day's sleep.

"Perhaps, the teacher has already seen the fate, I will get the guidance of Mr. Lin, and give him the gargoyle, this is the answer I really delivered, and the teacher is very satisfied with it."

Wilde murmured and stood up, staring at the papers full of notes scattered on the table for a while, suddenly picked up one of the drafts and whispered:

"Let it burn."

"call!"

Flames rose out of the air, and the tongue of flame swallowed the paper bit by bit.

In this dark room, a moth was attracted but caught fire.

Wilde thoughtfully watched as the paper began to curl, shrink, and scorch, with the moth, eventually turning into ashes and falling to the ground.

His two former disciples also share the intimacy of father and son with him.

On the day Wilde officially graduated from his teacher, he returned to the orphanage where he lived when he was young and took away a child who most resembled himself, alone in the corner.

That child is called Charles.

He was also his first disciple.

Regrettably, it may be that Wilde had too much preference for Charles, which made him lose the vigilance that a dark wizard should have.

Eventually he died at the hands of an enemy of Wilde.

Although Wilde later avenged his disciple, he did not find Charles's body and soul.

Without these two things, even if he wanted to find Augustus to resurrect his disciple, he would have nothing to cook.

In the depths of his heart that Wilde does not want to reveal to others, there is even a weak and extravagant hope that "Maybe Charles is not dead, but just escaped."

"Now that I think about it, it’s better to say

It was a child who had been adopted, and he had been worrying too much. "

Wilde brushed off the ashes, sighed, and turned on the kerosene lamp: "I don't know what I was thinking at that time."

"Knocking!"

The knock on the door suddenly sounded.

After Wilde's movements, Huo Ran squinted his eyes and looked upwards, and instantly released reconnaissance skills.

This is the basement of the house.

The direction from the knock on the door was surprisingly at the main entrance of the first floor of the house.

His house in Nuo Jin is his safest secret stronghold, and no one has ever known it.

Even after Joai's betrayal, Wilde's house has not been exposed.

Because the only person who knows here is himself, and... Charles.

Ether outlined the outline of the person at the door.

Wilde could hardly control his facial expression, he opened his eyes slightly, showing an expression of disbelief.

How can it be? !

"Teacher, it's me, I'm back!" The person at the door whispered weakly, "I'm Charles, are you there?"

"..."

Wilde left from the desk, and even overturned the chair because of the excessive movement.

He walked upstairs from the basement, the loud rain and wind crackling outside did not stop, and Charles called from the door: "Teacher, three years...I miss you all the time, you should know, the dark wizard Fred He wanted to kill me to revenge you, but I was not dead. He threw me into the dream rift, but not deep."

"I think of the "Dream Guide" that you read to me before, my enlightenment book, which saved my life! So I can come back to you now!"

He gasped, seemingly exhausted, his voice getting lower and lower: "Are you there? Then I am waiting for you here, just like in the orphanage back then, you will come to me..."

Wilde opened the door, and outside the door was the young disciple he had remembered lying on the ground, only bruised and unconscious.

His ether has covered a kilometer around, but there is nothing unusual.

There was a complicated expression on Wilde's horrible cold face.

"Charles, welcome home."

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