Twenty Sided Dice

? The sun sank behind the bushes, and another day was about to pass. ∽↗∽↗, the two knights have approached the Morritt wasteland and have clearly felt the unusualness here.

This place is called wasteland mainly because of the poor soil, no matter what is planted, it will not get a good harvest. Only one of ten seeds can germinate, and only one of ten seedlings can grow. The farmers here have worked hard for a whole year, but the food they lay down is not enough.

The weather here is always very humid, so the locals learned to grow mushrooms to make ends meet. The inhabitants of the Morritt Wasteland purchase decayed trees from elsewhere, and use special secret methods to produce large and thick mushrooms of all kinds. Not only make vegetables, but also sell them to passing merchants for some money to buy food and living utensils. Gradually, all living creatures here began to eat mushrooms, and it is said that the pigs here grew up eating them.

According to previous reports, Mage McGonagall lives in the Morritt Wasteland, and people here often see her buying a lot of mushrooms. However, this information is already three years ago, and no one knows what it is now.

To avoid going the wrong way, Siegel and Moore follow the road to find the village, ready to inquire about the situation. Since they had already approached the east side of the New World, which was far away from the influence of Heim's territory, the lord's rule was still firm, bandits rarely appeared, and the villagers were still friendly.

"Did you smell anything?" Moir sniffed and said suddenly, "There's a smell of dead fish here."

Siegel shook his shoulders, and the raven Baron flew forward. Through the bushes and closer to the village, the stronger the taste. Baron let out two squeals, indicating that he had noticed something abnormal. Siegel concentrated and observed with his familiar's eyes.

This is a fishing village, situated right on the shore of a reed lake. The invasion of the Ghost Mist Swamp turned the originally clear lake water into a muddy swamp, but fish can still be seen swimming in the water.

Across the lake shore, a row of thorny fences and a village of low thatched houses were silent. On the road in the center of the village, a long row of torture racks was erected, all made of freshly felled trees, some using nails. Some used straw rope binding. The long-deformed corpse was hanging upside down on the rack, his feet tied with straw ropes, and large stones tied to his wrists.

The corpse had been rotting for a long time, and hundreds of flies were buzzing. Raven let out a loud cry. The flies all flew up with a buzzing sound, and fled as quickly as black smoke. Driven by this force, the corpse swayed gently in the air, as if to break free. The stones dangling from their wrists rubbed against the ground, and the sound of brushing and brushing was clearly audible.

Siegel and Moore covered their mouths and noses. Entering the village, they frowned and looked at these corpses, one after another, there were seventy-eight. They have been dead for a long time, and their bodies are so decomposed that they can no longer see their faces, and can only be distinguished from their bodies. There are old and young, men and women, who did such a brutal thing?

There is a notice board on the side of the road, and a notice on it seems to answer this question. The notice was signed by Lord Morritt, Viscount Plane Scotton. "All evildoers who abandon goodness and believe in evil gods will be punished, and those who cover up the devil should be purified." At the same time, there is another notice posted next to it, "To all pedestrians, due to the influence of the ghost fog swamp, no The Ritter area is no longer safe. Please do not leave the road and go to Morritt Castle to buy an amulet to keep you safe."

"Sir, are there devils and evil gods here?" Mole asked, taking his eyes off the corpse and leaning on the hilt of the sword.

"I only feel the breath of the undead. There is a lot of resentment around." Siegel looked at the long row of corpses hanging on the rack, full of doubts in his heart. "The ghost fog swamp area has always been prone to undead, such as skeletons, zombies and ghouls. Why are these corpses all unchanged?"

More said, "Maybe Viscount Purlan asked the priest to do a purification. Avoid that?"

Siegel shook his head. He didn't see any trace of the purification ritual here. The upside-down corpse, with its hollow eye sockets and toothless mouth, kept staring at Siegel and making a silent shout. There were no wounds caused by swords and spears on their bodies, and if the dead were poured out, they would not have stones tied to their hands. These people were **** alive, and in desperation, they went to death step by step.

Siegel flicked his fingers, and one after another, crimson fireballs flew out. Hit the dead body accurately. Seventy-eight torture racks turned into seventy-eight torches, and there seemed to be wailing sounds as the corpses burned. The two riders turned their horses and continued to ride down the road to Morritt Castle.

At this time, the lake next to the village made a clattering sound, which seemed to be the movement of the oars, and it seemed that someone was swimming forward. Maul drew his sword nervously, the metal reflecting terrifyingly in the light of seventy-eight torches. "Who! Come out!" he yelled, and then the paddling disappeared.

They have already reached the Morritt Wasteland, and the meaning of disguise is not much. Siegel waved his hand, and the surging wind blew away the fog in front of him, revealing the vast lake. In the reeds, a circle of ripples drifted away, but no movement was seen.

If it were a fish, it would not have such a loud voice, nor would it hide so perfectly. Siegel turned on his spiritual vision to scan the lake, but still couldn't find any clues. The lake was quiet, the reeds swayed gently with the breeze, and everything seemed calm.

Then they heard a thudding sound, and turned their heads to see that the rope on the torture rack had been burned, and the body fell. Moore laughed lightly at himself, and when he turned back, he found a figure in the middle of the lake.

Wearing a long grass-green dress, she stood quietly on the water, her golden hair covering her face and hanging down to her waist. She didn't move, she didn't speak, she just stood there quietly. Mo Erming knew that he couldn't see clearly, but he was very sure that the woman was staring at him with red eyes from behind the strands of hair.

A palm rested on his shoulder, and Siegel patted his attendant lightly. "Don't be nervous, it's a wraith, a kind of undead creature. It can feel your fear and grow with it, and it may eventually become a banshee. If there is no such thing, I would be surprised."

"Can you destroy it?"

"It's not impossible, but it will be very troublesome." Siegel explained: "It would be much better if Rhett was here, and the priest's superpower is the best way to deal with the wraith. But don't worry, if it dares to approach , I can make it go away in the dumbest way."

"Isn't it very dangerous to keep her here, there are..." Moulton lived here, and there were no villagers here.

"Before turning into a banshee, the wraith had almost no ability to move. At most, it flew along with the aura of fear emanating from your body, but it also had a limited range. That's why she was called a wraith. That guy is far from the shore. It's a mile away. My spells rarely have such a large range. To deal with it, I can only go by boat. But no matter how I look at it, it looks like a trap. The ghost fog swamp has invaded the lake here. My detection Once the spell enters the water, it can't go very far before it reaches its limit, so there are too many places to set up ambush. Mor, real undead are not like skeleton zombies, they are very intelligent, always be careful."

Especially after seeing Nekos, Siegel has a deeper understanding of this sentence in the book.

The two stopped by the lake, and the Wraith found that it would neither scare them nor cause a fight, so he slowly sank into the water.

"Let's go to Viscount Pulan and tell him that there are undead creatures infested here."

Morritt Castle sits on a bare hill, built of large black stone city bricks. The castle was huge and wide, but it was never attacked. The wasteland is so barren that there is nothing but mushrooms and pigs and sheep raised on them. Therefore, the city owner here is too lazy to repair, and many places are almost rotten and withered. There are a total of three tall towers in the castle, only one of which is now inhabited, and the other two have long been converted into storage rooms full of mushrooms.

The black mist brought by the ghost fog swamp matches the style of the entire castle very well, making it always wet and muddy. No matter what color clothes people wear, they will eventually turn into dirty clothes covered with gray mud deposits. The family crest of the Scotton family is a large, vigorous tree with golden leaves spreading over a red trunk, and the flag should have a green background. But now it's all polluted black and the trees look like mushrooms.

The guard at the door was sleeping, leaning on his spear, and the sound of the horse's nose snorting woke them. Siegel sat on the saddle and looked down at the guards with a dignified aura.

The guard's hand was gripping the spear tightly, and the veins were bulging from the force. He took a half step back vigilantly, and then asked: "Two adults, have... Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I'm a Thors knight from Heimland, and this is my entourage. If it's convenient~www.novelmt.com~ we would like to meet His Excellency Viscount Pran Scott, here is my master, Baron Siegel. The letter needs to be forwarded."

"Our master will not see guests unless you bring your amulets." The guard lifted his coat and could see a six-pointed star badge pinned to his chest, with a drop of blue water in the center. He pointed to the badge and said, "With him, you can easily tell whether you are a real person or a ghost, so that the master will see you."

Siegel didn't feel the magic fluctuations from the badge at all, and judged that it should be some kind of handicraft. However, the blue water drop part in the center of the badge seems to be made of alchemy gel or crystal glass blowing. This technique can only be mastered by very few craftsmen.

"Since I have come to the conscious territory, I will naturally abide by the local rules and customs. Where can I get this badge?" Siegel asked.

The guard raised his hand, and along the direction of his fingers, Siegel saw a simple thatched house with crooked walls that had begun to sink downward into the mud. On the walls and gates of the house, there are all kinds of cloth strips hanging everywhere, swaying gently under the breeze.

For some reason, Siegel thought of the upside-down corpses, always swaying like this. (To be continued.)