There are no campfires.

Again, there is no light.

The jungle west of the Grey Moon is covered in shadows.

The double moon in the sky broke through the dark clouds, and the cold moonlight sprinkled down.

In this cold, damp place, a group of men draped in black robes with rough red patterned hooded robes sewn on them sat on the ground.

At this time, these people are munching on what they hold in their hands.

The sound of swallowing and breaking bones converged.

The plasma exploded and gnawed in the mouth without stopping.

"Ahh My dependents... One by one, the people who have been blessed by my power are disappearing! ”

Screams rang out.

A man staggered to his feet.

He was dressed in clothes that were different from those of his companions, with dark red trim and ornate floral robes, which were twisted to form a twisted and strange coat of arms.

And this is the coat of arms that symbolizes the old cultists of the witch.

"What a gaffe! What a gaffe! How can such an embarrassed appearance be seen by the witch! The blasphemer of the Grey Moon... How do you see through my power to speak? ”

The man was brown-haired, pale, with sunken cheeks, and looked malnourished and skinny.

"Nope! No way! How can I doubt the favor that the witch-sama has given me! Forgive me! Forgive me! Witch-sama! ”

Bang bang bang!

The head slammed into the tree, and again and again, blood flowed down the cracked head.

None of the witch believers stopped the High Priest of the Dead.

These witch believers simply bowed their heads and devoured what they were in their hands.

It's gray and black fur... A rat whose body has been gnawed to pieces.

And this is also the food of witch believers.

As Simon said, these people are a bunch of psychos, and as a night watchman, he can't ask for their cooperation.

At the same time, a voice of coldness and fanaticism came from the mouth of the High Priest of the Dead Words:

"Simon, the blasphemer of the Grey Moon, will be judged, which is what the Witch Lady expects as well."

The High Priest of the Dead Whisper's face was pale, and he ignored the blood on his head and squinted at the village in the distance.

His powers must be activated by touching the corpses, and the corpses that infiltrated the Grey Moon were eliminated one by one.

Although it is not clear how the other party did it-

"But that won't stop me from being loyal to the witch! I am the one who is favored, Simon the blasphemer... You have never been favored by the witch... And how can you understand? ”

He whispered, resentfully, and with a slight movement of his palm, he took out a small clay pot from his bosom.

At the same time, the witch believers who had finished eating also stiffened and stood up mechanically.

They all had a small clay pot in their hands.

"The ashes of the clay pot carry my power... All you have to do is go to the village cemetery... Sprinkle the ashes into it. ”

"When this is done, you will kill all the villagers who remain in the village, and then my power of death will take care of everything."

"......" The witch believer behind him did not speak, but silently placed the emaciated palm stained with rat blood on his shoulder as a sign of respect.

Then their figures gradually dissolved into the shadows and disappeared.

......

Locke, a witch believer, and his companion Crowe are in charge of the village of Ginkgo, which wanders west of the Grey Moon.

They have only one purpose.

Let these blasphemers taste fear and fear! Trap the Grey Moon Fortress in flames.

Their faces hidden under their hoods showed hideous smiles, and they continued to sneak forward in the night.

And then...

And then they were discovered.

It was discovered by some villagers who were carrying a green magic lantern and dressed a little strangely.

But even so, the two witch cultists did not waver in the slightest.

As witch cultists, they themselves are the embodiment of terror.

As the embodiment of fear, how can you be intimidated by a few villagers?

Locke and Crowe remove their hoods, revealing pale, twisted faces.

Feel hopeless! Lords of the Grey Moon!

And then...

Then they saw the magic lamps in the hands of these strange 'villagers' turn from dark green to crimson.

The next moment, a smile of excitement appeared on the faces of these 'villagers'.

Their eyes were green, and they couldn't help but tremble when they saw Locke and Crowe, the two witch believers.

？？？ This... Doesn't seem right?

Why aren't these villagers scared when they see us?

Locke turned to look at Crowe.

Crowe apparently understood what he meant, but he didn't care, just made a gesture to wipe his neck.

He understood what he meant.

It's just a few villagers who are acting strangely, and there are only four people on the other side, just kill them and enter the village.

And yet the next second-

"Hey! Come on, buddy! We've found the witch cultist! ”

The strange villagers shouted, their tones full of excitement and cheerfulness.

"Huh? What the?! An old brother has discovered the witch believer! ”

"It's coming, it's coming!"

"them!"

Loud and noisy voices came from all directions, and Locke and Crowe opened their mouths, and their originally twisted and bloody faces became a little confused.

Wait a minute... What's going on?

Rumble!!!

Everything happens in a split second.

Crimson magic lights illuminate the field.

Countless strangely dressed 'villagers' came from all directions with magic lanterns, and in an instant, they surrounded the two witches and the followers of the Old Religion.

Both Crow and Locke were already stunned.

This number of people...?

Five hundred... Wrong... Thousand? ... It's not right either... Two thousand?

The emaciated figures of the two witch believers, Crow and Locke, were illuminated by more than 2,000 guiding magic lamps... Seems lonely and helpless... It's pitiful.

“？？？” Crowe.

“？？？” Locke.

Even if they were followers of the Old Witch Cult who acted in madness and fear, they were a little helpless in the face of such a situation.

Wrong... Isn't it supposed that we should surround you villagers and watch you surrounded by dead corpses... Painful struggles?

In this situation, Crowe gritted his teeth and smiled horribly again.

He licked the blood from his mouth and cried out in a contorted and terrifying countenance:

"I'm a witch of the Old Cult! You blasphemers will all be killed by me! ”

Quiet –

More than 2,000 players stared at him, and not a single one spoke.

Sensing that something was wrong with the atmosphere, Crow's mouth moved, maintaining a hideous and terrifying countenance:

"Are you not afraid of me?"

Hearing this, the players glanced at each other, then scratched their heads in unison, and then let out a neat exclamation:

"Damn, this NPC is too smart, isn't it? Even with its own dialogue? ”

"Is Ivey Continent even taking into account this kind of NPC interaction? Loved, loved. ”

"Can I touch him?"

"Hey! Wait a minute! Let me take a picture with them first, this is the first time I've beaten a humanoid. Wait until I'm done taking a group photo before opening the monster. ”

The atmosphere suddenly became cheerful.

The two devout witches, Crow and Locke, were surrounded by the players, and all kinds of palms touched their bodies.

"Stop! Impertinent blasphemer! What do you want to do? ”

"You can't touch it there!"

"Die!"

They were tempted to draw their weapons and resist.

But the number of players is simply too many.

Too much.

One person held them down with one hand, let alone pulling out their weapons, and they couldn't even move.