Especially the mont she slapped both hands onto the ground and the Alchemy Array lit up—it was just incredibly badass.
If she did not dislike studying so much, she definitely would have learned such a cool trick like the Alchemy Array.
"You can handle cutting the paper yourself. After all, no one has tested exactly how much needs to be cut or how to use it yet."
After processing all the raw materials, Lan Qingyou finally wiped away the Alchemy Array on the ground and then leisurely floated up into the air.
"Oh, oh, that is definitely not a problem."
Gu Xiaobei imdiately replied, snapping back to reality.
Lan Qingyou patted her shoulder and left in style.
After all, she had a lot on her plate. She had already visited Gu Xiaobei and appraised the guinea pig, so now it was ti to get back to work.
"Flying in the sky... so nice. I want to try it too."
Watching Lan Qingyou depart on her Magic Broom, Gu Xiaobei muttered to herself, her face full of envy.
Although she had known previously that Lan Qingyou could fly.
Most of that knowledge ca from text ssages, with very few photos to show for it.
Now that she had seen it with her own eyes, it would be a lie to say she was not envious.
Who would not want to soar freely in the sky?
......
On Lan Qingyou's side, she began to climb in altitude right after leaving the Joy Restaurant.
She only leveled out once she reached an altitude of around a hundred ters, flying in the direction of the ruins.
Although this height was still occasionally obstructed by the crowns of towering trees, it was only a minor inconvenience.
For the most part, her path was completely clear.
After all, massive trees like those found in the central and southern parts of the forest were rare in this area.
Right now, as she sat on her Magic Broom, Lan Qingyou was pondering a certain question.
It was about Sherlock.
From what she had gathered herself, what Shang Chuan had told her, and Gu Xiaobei's warnings, it was obvious that this guy was not a generous person.
Searching for things in the ruins ant she would inevitably cross paths with him and his subordinates.
Under these circumstances, figuring out how to handle the relationship between them beca Lan Qingyou's top priority.
First of all, reasoning with him was clearly out of the question.
After all, the man had beco a slave owner and was currently building his own palace.
Once soone like that found out she had snatched his good stuff, he would definitely want her dead, and the chances of him sending assassins after her were extrely high.
After all, to murder and seize treasures was a practice as old as ti.
Moreover, it was a monster capable of steadily producing treasures on a regular basis. Let alone Sherlock's group, if anyone else with even a bit of strength found out, they would harbor their own greedy thoughts.
As the saying goes, the real danger is not the thief who strikes, but the thief who is constantly watching you.
Therefore, Lan Qingyou felt that her next course of action was already painfully obvious.
Accelerating her speed, Lan Qingyou arrived at the palace under construction in the center of the ruins just past four o'clock in the afternoon.
Although she had no idea how a Shelter had been turned into a palace that required manual labor to build, that was not important.
Stopping at an altitude of two hundred ters, Lan Qingyou coldly observed the people working below and the overseers wielding various weapons and leather whips.
After sweeping her gaze around for a full three circles and morizing several key locations, she pulled a Card out of her satchel.
Fly.
In short, just keep flying.
She would fly a lap around the palace first, casually tossing down the Explosion Potions stored within her Card.
A single inventory slot stacked with 999 Explosion Potions was no laughing matter.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Vial after vial of Explosion Potions rained down from the sky, accompanied by the agonized wails of people as the detonations rang out.
"What is going on!"
"Where is this attack coming from!"
When the explosions went off, the imdiate thought of the whip-wielding overseers was that they were under attack.
It could not be helped.
This world possessed neither laws nor morals. Although there was a so-called Supre Council, their reach did not extend to matters within The Abandoned Land.
"Soone tell what the hell is happening!"
Sherlock, who had previously been sitting inside a nearby pavilion watching his palace slowly take shape, now wore a deeply gloomy expression.
First last night, and now this. Why was everything he tried to accomplish t with such endless friction?
"Master, we do not know where the attack is coming from."
A servant beside him bowed slightly, speaking with extre politeness and humility.
"You don't know! You actually dare to tell you don't know! What exactly am I keeping you all around for!"
Hearing those words made Sherlock boil with uncontrollable rage.
When his n claid ignorance about the events of the previous night this morning, it was sowhat excusable. After all, only a few patrol squads operated during the night.
Therefore, he had not pursued the matter too fiercely in the morning, only ordering his n to hurry and search for that escaped Treasure Hunting Rat.
Yet now, in broad daylight, while he was sitting right next to them, his subordinates still claid to know nothing?
'Could it be that my deanor has been too gentle, making these fools think I'm a pushover?'
At this thought, an increasingly furious Sherlock smashed his wine glass directly into the servant's face. Shoving aside the woman next to him, he hauled his obese body to his feet and waddled out of the seemingly luxurious pavilion.
He decided he needed to teach these idiots a little lesson today.
But who could have guessed that the mont he stepped outside, a bottle filled with red liquid would fall from the sky right before his eyes.
"Fuck!"
Although he did not know what it was, the scene unfolded in a split second like bullet ti, terrifying him into a cold sweat. With a sudden burst of speed and Agility that completely defied his obese physique, he yanked the servant from earlier in front of him.
Boom!
The bottle shattered against the stone ground, instantly triggering a massive explosion that blasted Sherlock, the servant, and the pavilion straight into the air.
"Master!"
"Hurry! The Master is under attack!"
"Protect the Master!"
Seeing Sherlock attacked, a faction of his n rushed forward like loyal lapdogs to protect him.
anwhile, the rest of the people simply watched quietly from a distance.
It was obvious.
The vast majority of the people here hoped that Sherlock would die on the spot so they could regain their freedom.
After all, they were a group of transmigrators from a "civilized world." Let alone experiencing slavery, they had never even considered such a thing before.
Yet now, they had been reduced to slaves—to soone else's private "property."
The sheer indignity of such a fall was sothing no one would willingly accept, save for those who were naturally born to grovel.
Therefore, when they saw Sherlock taking a hit, those who had been injured by the explosions felt an indescribable thrill of schadenfreude.
It was more refreshing than chugging ice water on the hottest day of sumr. They even forgot about their own injuries as they watched in silence, waiting to see if he would die and if the Curse inflicted upon them would vanish.
"The sky... the attack is coming from the sky!"
Sherlock muttered weakly as he lay collapsed on the ground.
Although he had successfully used a subordinate as a human shield to avoid taking the brunt of the strike just now.
The shockwave and the harsh impact against the ground were still incredibly unpleasant.
The sheer pain and scorching heat made him briefly believe he was about to die.
Following his voice and pointing finger, everyone shifted their gazes to the sky directly above the palace.
Up there, they saw a Witch sitting sidesaddle on a broom, adorned with a little yellow duck satchel and dressed in a full Witch's robe and a pointed hat.
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