Unlike most cult gods, when Kraft or Jung entered the Frogwalker cult's gathering place, he saw no hideous animal bones, glowing green candles, or large symbols drawn in unidentified liquid.

The people of the sect did not wear robes that covered all their skin, and in fact they politely hung the robes on the hangers at the entrance of the room, revealing their normal clothing. Rather than being a cult base, it seems to be closer to some kind of relaxing resort facility in terms of warm décor. This contrast stunned even the well-informed Jung.

"What's the matter, brother, don't be so nervous, the masters will have to wait before they can come. We know that you have been fasting for a long time today, so we are ready to wait with you until you meet the Holy One, and the feast we have prepared for you will begin. Although it can't compare to the joy of meeting the sage, I think I can still look forward to it, and old Sean has brought out the treasured good wine. A cultist who seemed to be more familiar with Kraft tapped him on the shoulder and winked at the nearby wine cabinet. It doesn't look like a cult party, but rather like a few old friends preparing for a drinking party.

Fortunately, Jung, who had already obtained most of the memories and personalities of his master through bloodsucking, did not show his inner surprise, he smiled and nodded, the Kraft in his memory has always treated the people in the Order in this more subtle way, since the death of his wife and daughter, he has intentionally or unintentionally distanced himself from others. Only when confronted with the teachers in the mouths of the disciples will they open their hearts.

The person who came to talk was not surprised by this reaction, but continued to talk about the trivia between the believers, and took Jung to the so-called ashram. Compared to the cozy lobby, the ashram is a different picture, with taxidermy animal heads, elaborate crafts, and the smell of tobacco in the air, which is the opposite of the usual ashram to distinguish itself from the complexity of the world.

Several loosely dressed men were already waiting in the room, and when they saw Jung and the others entered, they greeted everyone and sat down on the floor, forming a circle on the floor.

"Although the teachers said to fast, they didn't say to quit smoking, so, come with one?" A black strip the thickness of a finger was brought to Jung's hand, and the speaker was a male congregant who had been staying in the room, and he was holding a similar object in his mouth, except that as he breathed, the strip was emitting white smoke and a faint red light. It seems that most of the smell of tobacco in the air comes from this. Jung certainly knew about this cigarette, and knew that its production process was much more complicated than that of simple tobacco, and the taste was much more mellow. So he chose to refuse without hesitation.

"No, I remember you told me that the leaves in this cigarette were soaked in rum. I don't want anything to go wrong with the waiting ceremony. Reasonable answer. The man handing the cigarette nodded, and said no more.

By the time the newcomers had taken their seats, the room had finally had a bit of a retreat, though it was more like a game of patience played by a few men. Jung was aware of this, and since he entered the church, all he saw was men.

But the information clearly said that the Frogwalker Church is a comprehensive order for both men and women, and the memories from Kraft also clearly remember that there are many people in the church to call her. So where have the women gone? And the décor of the ashram seems to have gone too far with the men's hobbies, which is not quite right.

But in other words, it's nice to have people around you who are so easy to get around. After all, reading memories is not such a simple thing, people will remember deeply, and the memories that produce pictures are only so many times in a lifetime, and most memories are stored like conditioned reflexes, and only jump out when they come into contact with specific information.

That's why Jung naturally followed when the people sitting around began to hum the strange ballad silently, and the song that helped the believer quickly enter a state of contemplation had formed a certain pattern in his memory.

Time passes in the chanting, and although this ballad sounds unremarkable, the syllables and melodies are just right to buckle the rhythm of the breath, directing the human state to tranquility and peace. If it were an ordinary person who recited it, it would be profitable.

It's just that it doesn't mean anything to the Bloodclan who have lived for an unknown number of years and no longer need to breathe. So when footsteps came from outside the door, Jung wasn't surprised in the slightest. The door, being gently opened, stood in the doorway with a footfoot, waiting, waiting for an opportunity to awaken the believers without detrimental to them.

"Boom!" the clear metallic sound stopped the chanting, and the people sitting in a circle opened their eyes. Jung was positioned just in time to see the door, so as soon as he opened his eyes, he saw the man who had interrupted the retreat. It was a man, a man with a strange appearance. His face is large, mainly due to the obvious bulges on his cheeks and chin compared to normal people, in contrast, his forehead bone is low, and his two eyes are protruding from the sockets, which makes people worry about whether they will fall out. His nasal bones are short and thick, allowing his nostrils to be seen from the front, and those two nostrils are not round, but open and close rhythmically with his breath like two mouths.

Is it a hybrid between man and frog? This was Jung's conclusion at first sight. He slowly got up and walked towards the strange-looking man in an intricate robe. The man smiled, his mouth not open, but his voice came from his swollen and contracted throat, "Brother Kraft, it's your time." Come with me, and the messenger will soon come. ”

So under the envious gaze of the others, the vampire followed the half-frogman and walked down the corridor to the depths of the building. The closer they got to the interior of the building, the heavier the moisture in the air around them, the damp environment caused moss and mushrooms to grow in the wooden walls on both sides, and insects could be seen in some of the semi-rotten places.

The hallway gradually sloped downward, and the narrow spaces on either side were no longer illuminated by firelight, but were replaced by some kind of glowing moss. Something resembling coral protruded from beneath the wooden corridor, covered with shellfish and snail shells, and a thin layer of sand gradually formed on the ground beneath his feet.

Jung hesitated, not because he was afraid of the changes around him, but because the water seeping from the sand beneath his feet made him uncomfortable. Vampires don't like running water, and while the water in the sand isn't alive, they still retain some kind of vitality. And this hesitation obviously did not escape the attention of the half-frogman.

"Don't worry, this is the corridor to the Messenger's Advent Room, and the conduit between the mundane and the holy realm. All these changes are part of the transformation. The voice of the leader came from the front, but it was a little more faint than before, as if there was something across the layer.

The two of them walked for a short time, and after a thin layer of water in the hallway, they finally came to the outside of a stone room, and the cold air escaped through the door. The half-frogman priest stretched out his palm, his fingertips with small suction cups, and his fingers were connected to each other with a layer of flesh. With the help of the suction cups of the fingertips, the stone door without a handle is slid to one side, revealing the space inside.

"Please, the messenger will come soon. ”