The Astarte of the B

The farmer, leaning on his hoe, let out a couple of snorts and spat a mouthful of phlegm onto the ground, tilting his head.,Lan En's face, as pale as ice, showed no sign of change. He spurred his horse forward, "We shouldn't draw attention to ourselves any longer, Bolten. You know what the situation is.",From behind the man, a magical spark flickered faintly, and then the farmer’s tense expression became vacant.。