The appearance of the Royal Thracian Theatre is three sets of huge stone castles, standing on the base of an obsidian concrete structure that is a thousand feet long from north to south and three hundred feet wide at its widest point from east to west.

The first stone castle is on the west side of the lot, with four pairs of stone pillars arranged in a string, two pairs facing north and two pairs facing west, with a large concert hall inside. The second group is on the east side of the lot, roughly parallel to the first group, in the same form but slightly smaller in size than an opera hall. The third group is in their southwest and is the smallest in scale and has the thinnest structure of the stone city, with the restaurant inside. The other rooms are cleverly arranged within the pedestal.

The entrance to the entire complex is at the southern end, with a wide and long large staircase. The carriage entrance and parking lot are located under the large steps. The Opera House is located in the north of the east coast, backed by a pure white city wall, surrounded by water on three sides, and has an open environment.

A carriage stopped in the square near the theater, and the old coachman turned to the carriage:

"Sir, the Grand Theater is here."

"Thank you." A middle-aged gentleman with a handsome appearance and extraordinary manners paid the fare and stepped out of the carriage. His eyes stayed on the Grand Theater for a long time before turning to the largest hotel nearby.

"Hello, are you staying at the hotel?" A young man at the front desk of the hotel asked politely when he saw the guests.

"A room that can't let light or air leak." The middle-aged gentleman lowered his politeness and handed over a black metal sheet.

The young man at the front desk looked solemn, put away the metal sheet calmly, took out a violet from under the counter, and said softly, "Your Excellency has been waiting for you for a long time, take this and enter the fourth room on the second floor."

He silently took the violet, pinned it to his chest, and walked quickly up the stairs. Facing the house number, he knocked on the door of Room 4.

"Who?" A woman's hoarse voice came from inside the room.

"Bring the cocktail you want, with a glass of lemon juice." The middle-aged gentleman took off his top hat so that the other party could observe through the cat's eyes.

"Come in." The latch in the door snapped off.

The middle-aged man stepped into the room and gently closed the door behind him. On the left side of the window directly opposite, beside the snow-white curtain, a slender and graceful lady in a black gauze dress turned her back to him-the other party had a rare black shiny hair that poured down from the top of her head like a black waterfall. , A few strands of fragrant shoulders are sprinkled, but they are not messy.

"Are you from Nahum?" She turned around, and the veil under the lady's hat lightly covered half of her pretty face, revealing only her pointed chin and soft red lips.

"As you can see." He bent down and answered respectfully with one hand on his chest.

"Why didn't he come to see me in person?" The black-haired lady asked condescendingly, and she raised her hands and gestures, with a kind of aloof and natural noble temperament, like a famous sword hanging in the air, making people unconsciously awe and surrender.

"Sir, he has to take care of himself..."

"Ridiculous!" In the black pupils of the water waves, a faint golden light rose. The invisible stance pushed the middle-aged man up to the ceiling, his limbs wide open and embedded in the ceiling mezzanine.

His painful facial features were twisted together, and he suddenly felt a terrifying force squeezing his lungs, and hurriedly said:

"Recently, the Empire has frequently dispatched personnel. While my lord is secretly investigating clues, he also has to guard against the Governor's prying eyes. If I don't see you, I'm afraid of falling short. It's more cautious at a critical moment. Please calm down."

"Oh? That bad old man Dole actually disobeyed me." The golden light in her eyes dispersed, and her invisible position was immediately clear.

The middle-aged man fell down in embarrassment, but he was also very skilled. Before landing, he rolled smartly, relieved some of his strength, got up and returned to a straight standing posture, with neat movements.

"Governor... he just has his own master." He took a careful peek and said respectfully.

"He's old and confused. It seems that the metabolism of the empire must be accelerated... Tell Nahum, I will tolerate his neglect this time." Accompanying her hoarse voice, on the undisclosed dining table, a few lemons Floating into the air, it cracked open with a snap, and the juice dripped into the glass cup below.

"As ordered."

The black-haired lady pinched the skirt and sat down lightly: "Tell me about your plan."

"It's like this. Your lord has already placed eyeliners in the theater. On the night of Alice's performance, we will create a riot, attract the elite of the garrison, and take advantage of the chaos to take the person's head."

"Take advantage of the chaos? What are you going to do?" She sneered, faintly disdainful.

The man smiled confidently: "Of course we know your abilities. In the face of targets with the same abilities, we will send weapons that are only prepared for this assassination."

"A one-in-a-hundred mortal?"

"You, how could you...?" He was stunned.

"Your power is equal to nothingness in my eyes, and it can be eliminated by raising your hand. Apart from mortals, I can't think of a more suitable weapon. But from this point of view, Nahum did his best."

The black-haired lady hooked her index finger, and the glass cup floated into her hands. She picked up the cup, took a sip, and drank the lemon juice.

The middle-aged gentleman's eyelids twitched, no wonder such a delicate and flawless woman has such a rough voice, drinking pure lemon juice like this, not to mention the throat, the stomach is not bad, it must be attributed to the shade of a strong bloodline.

"Go back, I look forward to your good news."

"As ordered, may your beauty last forever." He bent down to salute again, stepped back and closed the door from the outside.

She seemed to be aroused by the sound of the door closing. She sat like a sculpture in the center of the room. I don't know how long it took until butterflies flew in from the window, as if attracted by the fragrance, flapping their wings and flying over.

The black-haired lady took off her black gauze top hat, and her movements were gentle and elegant, revealing a beautiful and beautiful face. She raised her fingertips and let the butterfly fall above.

She has goose down-like eyebrows, her eyes are like smoky crystals dipped in water, her high nose shows sharp lines, and her thin lips are slightly pursed, which seems to be a signal of indifference. The long and dense eyelashes are like two small brushes, gently sweeping over the skin with the breath, aiming at the butterflies on the fingertips, like the lips of the petals hooking out a half-moon-shaped arc:

"You can't escape."

The sound was like a stone falling into an ice spring, and it was chilling to the bone.

The butterfly also seemed to be surprised, and fluttered its wings to fly, but it only flew a foot, and the pale golden flame enveloped it and turned to ashes in an instant.

"You too."

A gust of breeze pushed the ashes out of the window, and the black-haired girl walked to the window, staring at the blue sky, stretched out her slender white palm, and clenched it abruptly: "I am the best."

Her eyes swept to a certain point in the distance, her eyes were as cold as the frozen soil in the extreme north. Under the clear sky, the Royal Thracian Theatre, with only the breeze blowing, stood still, still graceful and luxurious.