"Aren't you afraid of the 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. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

"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, can this kind of thing hidden in a dark corner do people any harm? They are not like the orcs who attack human towns in droves, steal food, and kill everyone they meet, 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 and slashed everything he saw, and the poor undead who had died in this world due to a magical mutation became a tool for him to vent his anger.

It wasn't until he was out of breath that Gordon stopped moving forward and walked away with a straight face in the direction he had come, the dark and corrupt 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 small village underground, and most of the time they were crammed into the small hall downstairs with the help of the small dilapidated inn in the village, and except for the only woman in the group, who had a room for the only one alone.

Gordon sat down next to the burly blacksmith who had come to be a miner, and the proprietor brought him a plate of disgustingly stirred food, which one could not expect to enjoy in such a poor backwood, let alone how unpleasant the water-mixed ale 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 knew I was unlucky, the blacksmith shop was burned, and I was going to risk my food, 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, that sword suddenly moved on its own, and it cut through my palm like this, if I hadn't thrown it down quickly......"

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 woke up in the morning, she saw the writing on the scratched mirror in the room, but when she looked closely, the words were gone.

It must be the ghosts of the town who have come to take revenge...... The priestess was frightened, she was a messenger of the Light, but she was especially bad at these incomprehensible things.

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

Though there was a magical glow outside the window, it was always dim, barely visible, and the priestess was too frightened to fall asleep, 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.

Her eyes stiffened and moved slightly, the dilapidated room in front of her was still heard, and the snoring sound of the house about to be torn apart next door finally relieved her, she wiped the cold sweat from her forehead, noticed that her legs were numb, and changed her 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, had to seize their scarce sleep time in order to get their work done as quickly as possible so that they could get into the tower, so they said a few more words and drank more water, and then left.

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. (To be continued.) )