"Aren't you afraid of these undead, why is there such an ugly thing in the world?"

The priestess was still babbling about her disgust with the dead...... Most of the time it's due to fear. Novel/

"What's so scary about what you can see?"

Splitting a black mass of undead with an enchanted sword, Gordon replied nonchalantly, he didn't think these slightly sluggish creatures hiding in the ruins of the town were more terrifying than the orcs...... After all, what can this kind of thing hidden in a dark corner do people do to man? They are not like the orcs who will attack human towns in droves, steal food, and kill everyone they see, nor like the soul next door who silently allows himself to raise his children for many years.

The veterans who ran away from home after becoming a father became more and more ferocious to kill the qiē he saw, and the poor spirits of the dead who had survived due to the mutation of magic became a tool for him to vent his anger.

It wasn't until he was out of breath that Gordon stopped his progress and walked away with a straight face in the direction he had come, the gloomy* ruins frightened the chattering priestess, who finally shut her mouth and followed closely behind the captain.

Even when the town is cleaned up, the magically bound undead will appear in the ruins again and again, and it seems that it will take more time than expected to clean them completely...... In order to ensure efficiency, these adventurers, who were looking forward to the treasure in the magic tower, divided into several teams and carried out the task of cleaning up non-stop.

Gordon returned to the little village in the basement, and with the help of the small dilapidated inn in the village, the remaining eight men were crammed into the only two small rooms except for the only woman in the group, so that most of the time they were crammed into the small hall downstairs.

Gordon sat down next to the burly blacksmith who had come to be a miner. The shopkeeper served him a plate of disgusting food, and in this poor and remote place, he could not expect to enjoy anything. Not to mention how unpleasant the ale wine mixed with water was.

He poured the unpalatable food into his stomach in two or two times, and only then did he notice that the blacksmith was sighing.

"I know I'm unlucky. The blacksmith's shop was on fire, and I was going to venture out to eat, but I didn't expect bad luck to haunt me, even here. ”

Before Gordon could ask, the blacksmith shook his bandaged right hand and said, "I've been dealing with weapons all my life, and it's not funny at all. ”

He had recently been cut off his hand in succession while wiping his weapon.

"This place is really evil, and the sword suddenly moved on its own, and it cut through my palm. If I hadn't thrown it down......"

He didn't go any further, for the laughter of the others interrupted him, and the priestess, who had a solemn look, turned even worse when she heard the blacksmith's nonsense, and she returned to her room upstairs without even saying hello...... She also felt that something was wrong with this place, and when she got up in the morning, she clearly saw the handwriting on the scratched mirror in the room, but when she looked closely, those words were gone.

It must be the ghosts of the town who have come to take revenge...... The priestess was frightened, apparently a messenger of the Light. She's especially bad at things that can't be understood.

Humans still don't know much about the natural and rare strange existence of the undead, and it's not difficult to understand that more fear is born from this.

Though there was a magical glow outside the window, it was always dim. The brightness was barely discerning, and the priestess was too frightened to sleep, until the heavy, rude footsteps of the other male companions sounded in the dilapidated hallway, and she felt a little relieved, and fell asleep in a daze.

Maybe it was a mistake to come here.

She had forgotten her usual prayer to the Light.

After a short, shallow, chaotic and vague dream, she suddenly woke up, only to feel a chill in her back, lying on the bed she did not dare to move, she felt that she was being watched.

The eyeballs are stiff and move slightly. In front of her was still the dilapidated room, and the snoring of the house was about to be torn apart next door. Finally relieved, she wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. Noticing that his leg was numb, he changed his position.

Without warning, the men's snoring was drowned out, and his companion soon slammed the door in, only to find her pale and shivering in the corner.

What's wrong?

No matter how many times the priestess asked, the gloomy man who used to wield a dagger yawned and laughed, apparently thinking that the woman had just had a nightmare, but now he was too embarrassed to admit it.

Among adventurers, courage is a very important evaluation criterion, and no one knows what kind of danger awaits them in front of them.

The priestess's companions, who were not very good at comforting others, and did not have the desire to be bosom uncles, wanted to make the most of their work and get into the tower, so they took advantage of their scarce sleep, so they said a few words of dry water and left again.

He is so ungentle with the pastor, and he is not afraid of being released when danger comes.

Only the captain of the runaway veteran, who had been deeply hurt by the woman, remained, and he sat down by the door, closing his eyes and resting without saying a word.

But there was nothing strange about the flag being raised, and the poor priestess was trembling, her spirit was about to collapse...... As the hours passed, she seemed to be better, and finally no longer looked like she was about to be killed, and when it was her turn and Gordon's group to clear the rubble, she hesitated, but kept up with the only one she had to rely on.

Arriving at the ruins of the town, Gordon was still silently slashing at the monsters he encountered as he had been yesterday, and just when he thought that the man behind him would never speak again, the priestess suddenly spoke.

"I see...... Seeing a girl...... Miserable white, even clothes, only red eyes...... She was standing there...... Look at me. ”

The voice was low and hoarse.

"What kind of girl?"

Gordon asked without looking back.

The priestess was silent for a moment, as if recalling the terrible memories she had made, and Gordon felt her tremble again, and after a while, she replied in an uncertain tone, "Thirteen or fourteen years old......

There is no other information other than the age of appearance, but what makes Gordon puzzled is that he is scared like that, and he still has time to pay attention to the age of the other party?

Nothing to say all the way, returning as usual.

This time, the hapless blacksmith fell down the stairs, injured his leg, and was temporarily unable to work.

(l~1`x*>+``+