Facing Roland's wall, the torso of a young man dressed as a wizard was embedded in the wall, his hands and feet stretched outwards and struggling, his throat buried by the wall, and his head exposed to the air only by his mouth and nose.

Roughly at the heart, a cracked and antique Carral sword was plunged horizontally into the wall. As his hands and feet struggled weakly, streams of blood gushed out from the gaps in the blade.

Directly above Roland, there were wizards stuck upside down in the wall.

They hung upside down, their heads bloodshot, and the whites of their eyes turned completely blood-red. And their torsos were stuck tightly on the ceiling, slowly falling because of gravity, revealing blood-drenched muscles that had been peeled off.

On the walls on either side, there are witches whose limbs have been chopped off.

Their bodies hung upside down from the ceiling, swinging like a pendulum. Heavy panting. Breathing, loud or miserable or crazy laughter and cries.

Their slender limbs seemed to grow out of the cracks in the wall, scratching aimlessly in the air, tearing off a few pieces of flesh from their companions from time to time and feeding them into the gaps.

The heads on the ceiling let out a terrible howl, saliva dripping from the sky like dirty blood, and snow on the walls everywhere. Bai's slender limbs seemed to feel the breath of a living person, and the frequency of dancing suddenly increased several times faster.

Crying, laughing, howling, moaning. Moans mingled together. Just by bypassing a corner, this place has become a terrifying otherworld.

These are the dead who have died. Bansa wizards tortured to death by mad fools.

In the final battle, the druids routed Bansa's wizarding regiment and captured more than a thousand prisoners.

But they made the mistake of handing over these captives to people who had already tasted blood in the war.

Because of desire. After the end of the war, the mad people of Karar put all the sorrow, fear, anger and long-accumulated desires that they had gained from the war. Hope was vented on these wizards.

Bury alive, cut off limbs, skin, play. Kill - Having tasted the blood, the mad dogs did much more than the druids had expected. Compared to these, the witch executions that later prevailed in Carral were simply merciful.

They never thought about it. Mad humans are even more terrible than mad animals. By the time they realized that their seemingly benevolent decision had actually made an irreparable mistake, the wizards were dead in just over a hundred years.

It was from that time that the evil gods of the Lord of Violence began to target Karal.

Fortunately, the three sages reacted quickly enough, and they immediately blocked the news, hanged the craziest people and cultists together with the wizards in the pyroxene glade, and then used their corpses as materials to summon the towering trees to destroy the corpses. It didn't provoke judgment from the White Tower and other gods.

But the sorcerers who were tortured and killed were tortured so much that they could not sleep forever.

Under the subtle infection of the dusk, they kept repeating the scene before their death in a posture similar to that of a resentful spirit. Over the course of a long time, the overflowing resentment has completely changed the surrounding environment, turning the caverns where the mob tortured and killed wizards into a realm even more terrible than hell.

"Stupidity is original sin." Roland sighed deeply as he felt the visceral touch on the soles of his feet.

"Then again, it's the real world...... It's not being harmonized. ”

Roland stood calmly in the middle of the main hall, looking at the wizard who was nailed by a sword against his wall and only exposed his limbs, and sighed with some nostalgia.

Perception above ten points brought him a feeling he had never felt before.

Just standing here. Roland could hear the whispers of the wizards before they died, the curses, the remembrances, the prayers—

Even though Claudia's time was running out, Roland stood quietly for half a minute, listening carefully to the cries of these unjust souls, trying to discern every word from them.

Finally, Roland suddenly realized.

- They prayed for an eternal sleep.

Not hatred. It's not a souvenir either. It's like a patient who has been dying for years, just begging for a good time.

When Roland heard them. Roland's heart was stabbed suddenly, and a chill ran down his spine.

For the first time since coming to the world of Faenns, he realized that these NPCs were real beings with souls.

Their crying, their laughter, is not because of a programme, but from the heart.

So. I've done a few ...... before.

Roland's eyes faltered violently, but it only took a breath to stabilize again, even more determined than before.

"No kidding......" Roland muttered, his right hand holding the Blue Fang creaking. The dagger fluttered in its sheath.

If the courage to kill is lost just because these people are real people, then what is the difference between Roland himself and those scum who only dare to shout on the Internet?

So, what are the people who died at Roland's hands before?

"Tears have dried up in the City of Fortune," Roland said in a slow, vague voice that was almost dreamlike, "I have no regrets." I must not regret it. ”

Roland's eyes closed and opened, and the last blackness finally faded from his pupils.

Pure silver-gray flowed in his eyes like mercury.

Cold and unforgiving.

Spots of light gray light continued to emerge around Roland, and the long-overdue class trait finally appeared at this moment.

[You got the trait Mourning Chant]

[The Elder Sleep Tutor has given you a new divine baptism chant]

Mourning Chant (Class Identity)

Effect: Creatures that are killed once by your chant no longer have soul direction immortality

-- I hereby swear by the Judge to give mercy to this soul.

Feeling the chant popping up in his head, Roland took a deep breath and stepped forward quickly, gripping the broken Caral slashing sword stuck in the wall.

He pulled the sword off the wall with all his might, and suddenly blood began to pour out of the ground, and the cries of the dead around him suddenly became much louder, crawling out of his established position and moving slowly towards Roland.

There is no barrier made of holy water, no T, no amulet. Roland thus awakened all the dead at the same time.

A thousand sorcerers' souls? A conspiracy involving Kabbalah's enemies?

What's that stuff for, to put it bluntly, this is just a five-person copy of the Black Iron Rank-

Roland looked at the group of dead who were gradually approaching him, and the corners of his mouth slowly rose, revealing a happy smile.

"You want to rest in peace, don't you?"

He casually tossed aside the Calal Slashing Sword, which had begun to weather rapidly after it had been withdrawn, and several emerald green vines wrapped around Roland without moving in the wind, and pale gray spots of light drifted around him.

"-I'll give it to you!" (To be continued......)