Yvonne ran as fast as he could through the uncovered section to the bottom of the tower. A stone staircase of about twenty or thirty steps leads diagonally to the bottom, where you can see the dimly lit visitors' dwellings.

It was originally part of the early inner fort perimeter defense, but it lost its original value in the outer expansion of the castle in a round of rotations, and was used for temporary residence by the visitors, but the whole was not greatly remodeled, except for the front and rear doors and some rooms with narrow windows.

If the people inside realized that something special was happening, they would have been very safe as long as they closed the two thick wooden doors with iron inlays.

All she had to do was go a little quicker and let them know before something arrived.

The open door casts light from within the building, which zigzags and snakes up the stone steps. Yvonne ran towards the light, slowing down despite the flashes of unidentified images, the stone steps were half the height of her calf, more strenuous when going up, and a single misstep down could have serious consequences when going down.

After a difficult half minute on the stairs, she stood in front of the door with her heart pounding, tiptoeing against the door and looking in. Fortunately, standing in the long hall were still the internal affairs officer and the attendants, not something strange and inhuman.

"Mr. Wilbert!" She exclaimed, anxious to describe what she saw, "Close the door, something is coming up!" ”

She was met with the same surprise and confusion on her faces, and they heard every word clearly, but did not react further. Wilbert smiled only an understanding at Yvonne's eagerness.

"Don't worry, Miss Yvonne, those flares are the torches of the knights on patrol. You can think of Westminburg as the safest place in the entire kingdom, and routine night patrols are part of that security. ”

Even the servants puffed up their chests slightly, proud to serve this huge fortress.

"But I saw that the torches for the patrol were extinguished, at least three, and one of them was on the mountain road, not far from here." The dizziness that had just stopped running made Yvonne feel a ghost in front of him, his steps fluttering, and he poured out the bizarre content in one go, "I saw it too"

Although he still had the idea of childlike words, Wilbert at least put away his smile, "What else do you see?" ”

"I also saw cliffs, I mean torches fell off the cliffs." When the words came to her mouth, "something is climbing on the cliff" was swallowed, and she saw her identity problem from the other party's light-hearted attitude.

What I saw at that time was too unreasonable, just like the original owner of the dagger under his skirt, covered in carapace like a ghost, and those who saw it with their own eyes could hardly believe their eyes in hindsight, let alone listen to the relay, at most they thought it was an illusion caused by too much nervousness and fear. And if you take the identity of a scared little girl, there is no credibility.

However, such a statement alone did not serve as a warning at all, and she decided to lie, "I seem to have seen someone attack them, and I swear in Mr. Kraft's name!" ”

To make the verbal account more credible, she had to learn from the people who gambled on the curse to find something to swear, the Father, or something else that carried weight.

Religious belief has long been worn away, and the remaining mystery has been destroyed by Father Adrian, and there is only one person who can think of something that may be more important and related.

This sentence did not do much, and one of the "assaults" or "crafts" made the internal affairs officer a little more serious, and stopped the minions from laughing with a stern look. However, it is difficult to say how much of this action is out of belief, or whether it is out of the importance that the name should be paid on the surface.

"Tom, go check it out."

The servant took the order and ran away, and disappeared into the darkness outside the opposite door, and the report soon came: "Lord Interior, there are many torches below." ”

Yvonne felt a non-existent chuckle heard, and the trained servants lowered their heads, letting their expressions hide from the light.

From here, there was no difference between two or three fires, and since the outer defenses were still operating normally, this was still the most solid fortress in the kingdom. It's a dead end, and unless someone is willing to go down and verify it, it's nonsense that can't be proven.

Wilbert's attitude did not change because of the servant's return, and he was as polite as ever, "Miss Yvonne, please rest assured. We can arrange for the next passing rider to escort you up. ”

The inaudible laughter sounded in her head, and she felt that it was not from the few people in front of her who seemed polite but did not take it seriously, but from the ridicule of something approaching in the night wind, who would have thought that in the middle of the night something could appear silently in the inner ring of the high wall, climb the rock wall, and drag the heavily armed guards down the cliff with their light source.

With her identity, she couldn't move these people, and now it was too late to change places, perhaps their limbs had climbed the platform, and they were about to step into this obvious target isolated in the dark, and she was also isolated among those who would not help.

Weak and flustered, Yvonne did her best to suppress these useless emotions, she had a full experience of isolation and self-action, not one of those peers who would only cry without help. What is needed at this time is not to vent emotions, but to think calmly and independently without distractions, and there will always be a way.

"I'm going to be quiet for a while, give me a key."

"Of course, as long as Miss you need." Compared with shutting down a road, a wayward little request is not so excessive, and at most it needs to be sorted out. Under Yvonne's anxious gaze, Wilbert took one from a bunch of keys, "The first room on the second floor, if you don't rush to use it, we can arrange for someone to clean it up first." ”

"No need."

Almost snatching the key, Yvonne grabbed it and ran up the stairs. This action was probably also regarded as the little girl's shame, and the internal affairs officer did not care, and bowed gracefully as always, and put away the keychain.

One last time, Yvonne looked at the man who was still behind him. Those faces were blurred in the dim lighting, as if they were shrinking away, no different from those torches that were moving forward in the night, cut off by a long distance, and could not hear each other even if they shouted hard, some. Ember points that do not produce any intersection.

She climbed the stairs without looking back, opened the door with the key, closed the window and pulled the curtains, locked the deadbolt, and sat on the floor with her back to the door.

The heart was beating wildly in the chest, and the head was swollen. After a moment's hesitation, she closed the lampshade, and the room was left with only a speck of light projected through the keyhole onto the loose skirt.

Tuning in her skirt to avoid the light, she imagined herself becoming one with the darkness, trying to calm her heartbeat breath that was all too evident in the silence.

Downstairs came the voice calling for the name, it was Wilbert's housekeeping officer, and "Tom" could be faintly heard, the name of the servant.

There was no response, and Wilbert shouted again. At the same time, she heard many sounds of stepping in the ebbed mud passing under the window, accompanied by a smell that she thought was vague in her memory.

The smell was bound to the darkest, most numbing memories, and it pulled the consciousness back into the room in the depths of Harbor Long Lane, and I still don't know whether it was a painful or relieved few days. She covered her mouth to prevent herself from speaking out of fear or something.

The smell of the soul departing and the body rotting is walking and climbing.

The voice from downstairs came again, confused at first, as if seeing an incognizable stranger's inquiry coming from outside the door. After a short, and sensitively long silence, in a room without the sound of the wind, for the first time tonight, she heard clearly and completely the sounds that ordinary people would make when they saw those things.

A scream of horror like a poking out of the eyes.

Running in a chaotic manner, calling for help, knocking over furnishings, and falling to the ground in strings of small metal pieces, in which she reluctantly and undeniably recognized one or two that still matched her impressions.

For a moment, the voices were gone. A painful, violent cough that couldn't tell which was which, the rancid smell rushed through the keyhole, and the dust that tickled the throat, and the physiological urge to swallow sneezes and coughs in the throat.

The smell is still getting worse and getting closer. Yvonne kept his eyes open, not knowing what to look at, only staring at the knuckle-sized specks of light in the keyhole on the ground.

Soft, wet, rancid, that's all she knew about those things, things that had been mutilated by mildew but not cleaned. It was quiet outside, and she clutched her mouth and nose and let out only a wisp of breath, hoping that the things would leave sooner.

Stillness and stillness can disrupt the sense of time, making it hard to believe what one thinks, as if a long time has passed and the light shining in has not dimmed. The unchanging silence, exhaustion spreading, tugging hands, nervousness and fear quickly consumed physical strength and energy. Yvonne fumbled for the keyhole, tilting his head to try to peek out.

The spots of light vanished, and in an instant they returned to brightness, and a gentle light passed through the small holes, pretending that nothing had happened.

[They didn't leave]

As if to affirm this idea, the keyhole was once again obscured and lit up. Frightened and inexplicable thoughts came one after another, Yvonne couldn't figure out why they were staying here, and went up to the second floor.

Meaningless wandering? Or what are you looking for? Search for the only living person here?

It was as if there would be a knock outside the door in the next second, and the survival instinct wanted to get up and run away. But unless she could squeeze through the window, which was absolutely no skull-wide, she would have to be blocked in this room.

Wait, wait, she thought, grabbing the wooden handle of the dagger. The weapon is basically new except for the metal, the grip is made of good-smelling pine, it is treated smooth, there are no wooden spikes, and it is covered with strips of cloth that can be grasped but not sharpened.

Yvonne soon felt that there was no point in it. They've taken out the Night Watch, a few adults downstairs; What can this dagger do alone? The experience of turning the tide of the battle for Koop did not give her unrealistic illusions, on the contrary, she was well aware of her limitations.

A question, an inevitable question, arises in front of us. No matter how hard she tries, can anything really change? Even if she could be as strong as a knight and as commanding others as Wilbert's housekeeper, it would make no difference in essence.

She once felt that the comfort port was cold and terrible enough, and that she had mastered some of the necessary abilities of life.

But there is a far more terrible and colder truth than imagined, that any effort on the part of anyone is meaningless when something comes, just as Dr. Kraft also admits that there is no cure for his father's illness, and the ocean does not care whether it is the captain or the sailor who drowns.

The thought made his body tremble slightly, more than the desperation of the rotten thing lingering outside the door.

[If it is. 】

What if? She sat against the door for a moment, thinking that it would be nice if Kraft, or at least Coop, was here, but that didn't change the fact that she was the last person here. This deepens that sense of hopelessness and powerlessness.

Luckily, Yvonne has always felt that he has another advantage that is not an advantage, and that is that he is very adaptable.

Moved away from the door and leaned against the foot of the bed to keep away from the growing smell of rancid and dusty mixture, and to prevent an uncontrollable cough.

From the initial fear, to some numbness. Then she counted the number of times the keyhole was blocked, and after breaking the eighth finger, she waited a long time for the ninth.

They didn't leave, they stayed in the building. You know, they can climb up from the bottom of the cliff, attack the patrols on the mountain road and continue to come here, but now they can't linger.

Without even realizing it, Yvonne was observing them, learning about the actions of those things through the points of light of the keyhole, thinking about what they wanted just as he did with bad intentions. By learning the behavior of those people, she learned to handle interpersonal relationships and use similar methods. But the same logic is of no use in this case. Is it?

A very absurd thought that scared her was born—why not?

[That's that kind of thing]

They are more dangerous than the treacherous minds of humans, but they are not necessarily more difficult to understand, but they have a power that neither armor nor numbers can handle.

The bone monsters encountered in the southern hills couldn't stand Koop's casual throw, but they had the absolute upper hand. This is the kind of thing she wants to know, a more direct power than a page hammer, beyond the perception of "ability" in her previous life for more than ten years.

Part of the fear shifted to feelings she hadn't imagined, and she felt the power.

[Envy]

The power to easily blow out the ember point.

She crawled towards the keyhole and stuck to it to observe the outside world, and if some otherworldly soul was present and looked at the keyhole, he would see familiar eyes, the same eyes that he had looked at the black liquid, fear, curiosity, and more anticipation.

Perhaps when she was older and more mature, and her mind softened by her gentle life and academic career, she would not have been able to have such thoughts, but here she is Yvonne now. Pure and non-naïve thinking runs through what is seen in this building.

Shocked by the half-decayed corpses of the vigorous and colorful mushrooms, she didn't find the purpose of their actions for the time being, but she thought of something else in hindsight.

[I may not be the last person here]

The night shift the day before yesterday, I got off work at noon yesterday, and the jet lag failed, so I changed it to a two-in-one update. +_+

(End of chapter)