Surviving The Fourth Calamity-Chapter 251 - 60: Don the Battle Robe, Greet the Unknown Guest_2

The Undead Tribe was no different, constantly taking group photos without a break.

In this area, as the Black Robe Mage said, the right to fly had been granted. The mages of the Undead Tribe quickly discovered this and wanted to fly around here for a while, even if they were not taking pictures.

Hill deftly dodged several erratically flying members of the Undead Tribe, watching them as they collided with himself and others before crashing to the ground.

"Uncle Adrian," Hill couldn’t help asking when he saw Adrian standing at the bow looking out, "Should we move down now? As long as people can live in the tower, that’s fine, right?"

"The teacher gave me a high-level Alchemy Hut," Adrian hinted with his eyes at Hill, it was the one Fran had intended to give to himself for travel, but now he planned to use the one Hill had given.

The Alchemy Hut Adrian had made himself, besides being ornate, had weak functionality; Fran certainly wouldn’t let him display it here and embarrass himself.

However, the last time he joined Hill in making the Space Box to earn resources from sea monsters, he seemed to have progressed quite a bit in this area.

But that only made Fran angrier.

Adrian really just liked making potions, and whenever it came to refining equipment, he would slack off.

"Then go and set it up quickly," Hill urged Adrian, "Don’t wait, the Undead Tribe will only increase in number, and there won’t be fewer of them at night. As it grows dark, they’ll fly even more vigorously."

Adrian knew that Hill understood the Undead Tribe better, so he nodded and carefully flew down.

Hill entered the cabin and saw Fran still looking at documents. It struck him as odd: "Grandfather, why are you so busy?"

"These were sent by the Mage Association," Fran replied indifferently, "They contain information that any Legendary can know. Also, they’ve invited me to join the Parliament."

"Did Grandfather accept?"

"Just in name, it’s not a managing position. It just means I can see some documents that aren’t too secret."

Hearing the almost playful emphasis Fran put on the words ’secret documents,’ Hill couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

"Grandfather, Uncle Adrian has gone down to set up the cabin. You should tidy up your things first!"

Upon hearing this, Fran started to put away the stacks of documents on the table: "Although many people know about these, you and Adrian shouldn’t look at them until you’re Legendary."

Though Hill was somewhat curious, he nodded, promising that he absolutely wouldn’t look.

Fran probably thought these things might affect their Legendary journey. Hill didn’t have the kind of death-wishing curiosity that, although he knew it was for his own good, he couldn’t control.

As Fran packed up the large ship, Hill listened with amusement to the huge sigh that came from a group of people.

Adrian had already properly installed the five-story white house at the most inward part of this land, which was supposed to be the garden greens by the Magic Tower.

He was now contacting someone to cancel the flight permit for this area.

Soon a group of Black Robe Mages flew over, and a squad of Black-armored Knights ran over on the ground.

The leading Mage started shouting at the Undead Tribe with a megaphone: "In one minute, the right to fly will be revoked, those still in the air do so at their own risk."

Adrian instructed Hill, "Hill, build a high protective wall over the white line you drew on the ground, make it taller."

Hill almost laughed; Adrian probably never imagined that one day he would rely on building a protective wall to keep the onlookers at bay.

He probably never thought the Undead Tribe could be this bored, right?

The squad of Knights on the ground had already politely asked the Undead Tribe to leave this private domain.

Although the Undead Tribe was somewhat reluctant, they still grumbled and left, muttering under their breath about not being afraid of ’black skins’ or the like if it weren’t for losing reputation points.

After the last member of the Undead Tribe had left, Hill silently released his mana. Constructing walls was really just about gathering Earth Elementals in a fixed place.

Without much effort, Hill easily raised a solid 2-meter thick, 10-meter high wall.

He also took care to avoid the underground Magic Array, letting the wall emerge from 10 meters deep in the ground, then transforming it into Marble.

He left a 5-meter wide gap only in the direction of the main road.

Adrian nodded his head in satisfaction, "Your room is on the top floor, next to the teacher’s room. The rest is my business; you go and rest!"

Hill nodded, walking into the White Tower.

After he entered, he was pleased to see that in the spacious hall, Boen was calmly directing the apprentices at work.

Hill didn’t plan to interfere, gesturing to Boen, who had spotted him, not to come over, and took the Floating Stairway directly to the 5th floor.

Fran’s house, when initially constructed, probably hadn’t considered hosting anyone. Thus, this Floating Stairway was just a 2-meter diameter flying disc with no protection and it was very fast.

Hill glanced at it, noting the complete absence of stairs in the entire house, wondering whether the apprentices would be able to adapt to the flying disc.

After all, as soon as Hill stepped on it and mentioned the 5th floor, he reached it instantly.

Hill greeted Fran, who was looking down at his documents, and then Fran instructed him, "We will have guests tonight; just follow me."

"So soon? I thought we would wait until the Magic Tower was finished," Hill asked in surprise.

"Some people can’t wait," Fran said casually, "and there might be some unwelcome guests too."

"Do the apprentices also live here?" Hill was a bit curious.

"How could that be? There are no rooms for apprentices in this house," Fran glanced at him sideways, "And those mages don’t have anywhere to stay. In the Magic Tower, we will have to make arrangements for their accommodation by tonight."

Hill chuckled foolishly, "I just want to know what would happen to them on that flying disc."

Fran looked at Hill’s puzzled face and laughed helplessly, "That flying disc, those below the mage rank can’t use it. Their bodies can’t handle it, and their magic barriers are too fragile. All the equipment in this house isn’t meant for low-rank mages, their spiritual power can’t even control a puppet."

Hill nodded and said quietly, "Grandfather, I have no idea how much physical stress a regular mage can endure. When I was a mage, my body strength already surpassed that of a Grand Knight. Now, I suspect I could even match a Legendary Knight in strength."

Fran pinched the bridge of his nose, "Being close to a Sky Knight is good enough. Generally, magisters are somewhat stronger than knights, you are a Magician with earth elemental heritage, it’s normal for you to have more strength, but don’t be so intimidating."

Hill smiled, "I understand, I’ll be careful."

Actually, he had been wanting to ask just how strong his maternal grandmother was, but he thought better of it and held back—the butt of a tiger was not something to mess with.

Hill said goodbye to his grandfather and went to prepare in his room.

Since Fran told him to stay by his side, Hill guessed that it might not only be those two legendaries, but also people from the Mage Association and the Sorcerer Tower who would come.

He needed to dress more formally.

Hill blinked and took out a dark green robe. The robe was embroidered with slender branches and leaves made of incredibly fine silver threads; a closer look would reveal the foliage was composed of various magic runes.

This double-breasted robe was also one of the fashion choices of the Undead Tribe, but they didn’t favor it as they found it too confining and didn’t like to wear it.

Hill, on the other hand, thought it fine since the sleeves were fitted, which actually made it quite sleek.

After washing up and donning the robe, Hill looked at himself in the mirror with satisfaction.

His blood had awakened too early, and he had always kept the visage of a youth, but this garment certainly reduced much of his immature air, making him appear much more mature.

Hill had never cared about others thinking him young, but today it mattered.

He was somewhat worried about the unwelcome guests Fran mentioned, feeling it unlikely but acknowledging the possibility that someone might foolishly bring elves along, so it was better for him to be prepared.

His golden hair had maintained waist length for quite a while now; his elf heritage seemed to manifest noticeably in his hair.

Once he considered cutting it, but his bloodline power strongly resisted.

For such a trivial matter, Hill didn’t feel the need to struggle; after all, it wouldn’t grow any longer.

After some thought, he combed all his hair back.

No matter how young his face, with no hair to obscure it, the calm and clear expression in Hill’s eyes hinted at an emotional depth typical of mature individuals.

He smiled at himself in the mirror, his eyes narrowing into crescents and the corners of his mouth lifting in a bright, youthful expression.