The silence of Cemetery III had been shattered by the roar of the guns, and the muzzle flames lit up the dim fog again and again, and the wobble and twisted figures emerged from the fog, and one by one they fell in the bombardment of sacred flames and metal—and where they fell, a dark and ominous mass had spread to the path.

These are clearly no longer "restless corpses" - they are more blasphemous, more ominous, and must be eradicated here.

The old man's marksmanship was very accurate, and those deformed things that came out of the fog were like slow reptiles in his eyes, even through the thick fog, he could solve them one by one.

In fact, he was more skilled and experienced with shortsword and cane - but the old man knew that he had to avoid getting into a skirmish with the monsters too soon.

He was very old, the experience of a veteran could not offset the aging of the flesh, and the enemy always seemed to be unable to kill cleanly, and once he was caught in a hand-to-hand encounter, he could no longer fend off those monsters on the other side of the path.

To calculate accurately, to destroy as many monsters as possible with as little physical strength as possible, to delay time, the cathedral and the city-state authorities must be taking a solution, reinforcements will come, no matter which side - the city will not fall in such an inexplicable fog.

Faintly, other gunshots could be heard from a distance.

"Guard Grandpa!" Anne shouted, handing the newly loaded rifle to the old man again, while looking nervously in the direction where the gunfire came, "Shooting is also being fired elsewhere...... Is someone here to help us?"

"It's the guards of Cemetery No. 4 and Cemetery No. 2," the old man said, raising the muzzle of his gun, and with a roar shattered an ugly head emerging from the mist, without looking back, "someone will come to our aid, don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid." Anne tried to speak loudly, and though her voice trembled a little, the old caretaker of the cemetery did not have the courage to break through the little girl's forced prop up.

Because she's brave enough.

"You are very brave," said the old guard, trying to make himself as relaxed as possible, even if his arms were actually starting to tremble, "where did you learn this?" How can you load rifles and shotguns?"

"My mom had several guns, and she hung them in the bedroom and living room," Anne said as she quickly pressed the bullets into the barrel magazine of the double-barreled shotgun, "and Mom bought several guns in the year Dad didn't come back, and she said she needed to protect the house...... Ahh

The reeds on the magazine snap suddenly cracked, and the sharp metal edge cut a long wound on the little girl's finger, and she exclaimed.

But in the next second, she used her other finger to put the reed back in place, and handed the loaded shotgun to the old man in front of her: "Here you go."

The old guard noticed the blood on the gun and heard Anne's exclamation, but he was silent for a moment before throwing the other gun behind him: "·· …… Reload."

Gunfire roared again.

The hunched old man in black was like a crooked and tough tree, firmly nailing himself to this thick fog, and the conversation between him and Anne gradually ceased to speak, only the silent shooting, and the increasing solemnity of his expression, he was calculating, calculating, calculating, how many monsters he had killed, calculating how many times Anne had handed him a loaded shotgun or rifle.

"The last box is popping." He muttered softly.

"Grandpa Guard, the last box is indispensed!" Anne exclaimed almost at the same time.

"I know," the old warden didn't look back, he silently finished off a deformed freak who had almost rushed to the front of the hut, and then beckoned behind him, "Load your shotgun, and put the gun and the rest of the bullets at my feet, you go under my bed, there's a dark brown box with spare ammunition in it."

"Good! Dark brown crates, spare ammo!" Anne said quickly, then pushed the gun and bullets out the door, turned and ran into the house.

The old guard silently glanced down at the shotgun and bullets at his feet, then turned slightly sideways, closed the door casually, and drew the short sword in his arms, and nailed the short sword to the outside door

hook on.

Almost in the next second, he heard some panicked footsteps coming from inside the hut, followed by the sound of a girl banging on the door and exclaiming.

「…… I lied to you one last time."

The old guard whispered, and then shot the nearest deformed freaks with a gun in one hand, and then quickly turned around and jumped from the door frame, his free left hand waved through a corner above the door frame, and a pitch-black cane appeared in his hand—before he landed, he slammed the black staff into another monster that emerged from the fog, and the moment the shattered corpse fell to the ground, he also landed smoothly on the ground.

His eyes swept over the dense fog in front of him, the old man waved the black staff in his hand vigorously, and the dirty black fluid fell from the body of the staff like mutated blood, and he slammed the staff on the ground again, the metal mechanism clicked, and the pitch-black staff body immediately shortened by half an inch, but countless sharp blades popped out on both sides.

The moment the blade flicked open, it seemed to be mixed with countless layers of shouts and roars from the past.

In the foggy cemetery, there was even a momentary silence.

The old warden turned his head and glanced at the door of the hut, looking at the corner above the door frame - like most veteran guards, he had chosen to place the weapon that had accompanied him for half his life above the last door he guarded in his retirement year, not expecting that he and the old man would fight side by side in front of this door again.

"We're guarding a door······ We are the caretakers of Bartók······ The old man's waist was still stiff, and in the cold and dim fog, he slowly turned around, his eyes fell on the swaying figures, and he recited the oath that the guardians had passed down for generations, "We swear to guard the border between health and death, so that the dead can rest in peace, and the living will be at peace......

The misty freaks of the fog agitated, and countless wobble figures began to cross the path towards the hut where it was still standing.

They were responded to by the gunfire of the old guard, and the whistling of the cane and sword breaking through the air.

"You don't want to rest in peace, I'll give you rest!"

The sound of slashing, roaring, the roar of rifle and shotgun fire, the last battle of the defenders made the cemetery tremble.

In the caretaker's hut, Anne's small body curled up in the doorway, holding her head and listening to the movement outside.

She sobbed quietly, and finally turned into a howl at the roar of gunfire.

At the age of twelve, she was deceived by her guard grandfather again.

At the same time, frost open to sea.

The thick fog was not confined to the skies over the city-state, as by midday it had crossed the offshore boundary and covered the patrol range of the Sea Fog Fleet.

In such a thick and strange fog, even the Cursed Fleet, which itself possessed extraordinary attributes, had to tense its nerves.

On the bridge of the Sea Mist, Tirion stood in front of the wide porthole with a frown, staring at the thick fog like a wall on the sea, and the first mate Aiden came behind him, reporting the situation in a serious tone: "...... So far, our communication with Cold Harbor, Frozen Bay, and Pirate Island has been strongly disrupted, with no response to calls on all frequency bands, and communications with the Frost Navy and the port area of Frost Island have also been disrupted, but they are barely able to get in touch. The area covered by this thick fog has spread to at least 100 nautical miles outside the main island of Frost······

"In addition, according to the reports of the small boats we sent to the edge of the fog, the range of the fog has stopped spreading and the concentration has not continued to rise, but all attempts to sail out have failed - all the small boats that tried to leave the range of the fog spun in place and unknowingly turned back into the depths of the fog."

"How's it going in the stargazing room?"

"I still can't observe the correct astrological aspects," the first mate Aiden's expression was solemn, "It's like a blurred lens suddenly appeared between the spiritual realm and the deep sea, and the observed astrological aspects are ghosted, and the mental stress caused by stargazing has also risen sharply, and it is impossible to observe for a long time."

「…… It looks like the blockade is complete, and the Frost City-State and the surrounding seas are cut off from the 'normal world' outside," Tirion said expressionlessly, with only a calm look in his eyes, "Don't run out in vain."

"Blockade... …··· Who made the blockade?"

"Use your brain once in a while - do you still need to ask?" Tirion glanced back at Aiden, "Cultists, those madmen who worship the Shadow Lord, aren't they the ones who are causing trouble all this time?"

"I know," Aiden glared, his expression "Is this battle in front of you a bit exaggerated", "but with just a bunch of cultists, can you really make such a big battle?"

"A rabble of lunatics may not have that ability, but the 'Lord' they worship is another matter," Tirion said, putting his hand on the railing in front of him, in a deep voice, "the Dark Lord...... Blocking time and space, interfering with the stars...... Is this the power of the old gods......

Aiden swallowed subconsciously.

"So······ Are we really going to directly confront the power of the Old Gods this time?"

"Afraid?"

"One thing," Aiden nodded, but another ugly smile appeared on his face, "but it can't be helped, the way the world is like this—in fact, it's nothing if you think about it, didn't the big guy still bite the bullet when he faced the old captain, and now the old captain is still on our side."

"That's it, let's get ready," Tirion exhaled softly, waving his hand to the first mate, "After all these years of leaving the frost, we may have to make another big fuss in this sea."