Something is not right. It was understandable that there were no sentries before, but now they are standing at a distance where they can clearly see the dried food skewers outside the window, and they have not found any living people. Not to mention the hidden sentries, even the naked ones are standing high up.
There's no one out there.
This completely deviates from their understanding of the pagan operating model. You must know that this is an organization that can even arrange an ambush for smuggling. With the size of this forest village and the number of residents, it is estimated that it will take at least several years to build, and it will also need to be built from scratch.
Some irreplaceable materials are imported from the outside world, and the nearly completely closed conditions are the best missionary environment.
Like a hunter lost in the forest who strays into a mirage, a complete village jumps out from the background of thick trees and comes to the front.
An ominous silence settled among the buildings, and after the stopped team consciously stopped talking, it blended with the atmosphere in the forest and condensed into a dead silence confronting them, accompanied by a strong sense of being spied on from all directions.
The extremely quiet atmosphere makes people dare not act rashly, and they are trapped in place as if trapped in an invisible swamp. Only their own slight breathing and heartbeat are beating while they concentrate and hold their breath.
Until someone couldn't bear it and sneezed, breaking the deadlock. Although he tried his best to control it, the sound of the air rushing out of his teeth still spread very far in the forest, far enough to be heard by people in the village in such silence.
people heard it.
Nothing happened.
Everyone turned to the source of the sound and glared angrily at the guy who was covering his mouth in fear.
But part of that depressing feeling has indeed dissipated. Perhaps the only explanation is that there is no ambush here as imagined, it is just that the group of pagans abandoned their stronghold and left?
"Sorry, I suddenly felt my nose was a little itchy." The perpetrator pinched the wings of his nose and covered his mouth with both hands in an attempt to prevent the physiological reaction. However, the itching on the mucous membrane seemed to be too strong to be suppressed, and the throat squirmed and he sneezed a second time, removing the scratch.
Sensitive things spurt out.
"Keep your voice down, let's go in slowly." Martin waved his hand and ordered, directing the team to move forward.
"Ah... sneeze!"
Before he finished speaking, another sneeze sounded. He was about to scold the retinue who caught a cold at the wrong time, but found that he was not in the same position this time.
Turning around, I saw Kraft taking out a piece of black square cloth, covering his mouth and nose, and tying it with a string at the back of his neck and head. There were more than one piece prepared, and there was an extra piece that he handed to Coop to put on.
Seeing Martin looking this way, he waved his hand to indicate that he was fine, "My nose feels a little uncomfortable."
In fact, it was more than that. He felt that the ubiquitous atmosphere was constantly touching his spirit, causing his brain to be in a state of drunkenness for the past few days. A bit of the heavy, dizzy synaesthesia of being sick and having a fever was fed back to his body.
But just now, an unexpected burst of nasopharyngeal itching triggered the reflex of the respiratory tract to expel foreign matter. It was still very strong, as if wind covered with dust entered the nostrils.
【dust】
The empty and silent space and the smell of dust from the pavement brought my memory back to the corridor of the Rivers University night banquet, and I stood in front of the door that did not block anything.
The ripples in my mind were still swaying, and the concept of the ripple-like model lake became clearer as I approached this place. To be precise, it was after the sneeze.
He now felt that it was more like... a wheat field blown by the wind, swaying and rippled, but much thinner and shorter, densely arranged together, and spread like a furry blanket on every inch of the place that could be blown by the air current.
"Something's not right. Try to stand where others can see you later, and don't walk away alone."
Kraft drew his sword and moved closer to Martin. As the team advanced, Coop followed him from behind to protect the flanks.
The retinue carrying the shield followed the knight at the front, bending down and hiding his body as much as possible behind the shield. The crossbowman was at the edge of the woods preparing to counterattack the enemy who would appear.
After leaving the cover of the trees, they began to accelerate, rushing through a small open space that lacked cover, arriving at the outermost circle of buildings in the village, climbing over the fence and leaning against the wall of the house, reaching the blind spots of the small windows that could be used as shooting holes, and listened to the inside
Activity.
Ordinary people who have not received special training will probably be at a loss when faced with such a posture. They will not know where to aim, blindly shoot arrows and miss or drop their weapons and run away, let alone a close encounter.
However, the tense and orderly movements turned into a one-man mime, and not a single arrow was shot from the dark to match their wonderful performance.
There was no sound of activity in the house, nor was there any nervous breathing. After they stopped moving, the thick silence naturally enveloped them. The village remained silent and indifferently did not react to the intruders.
Barrow left the protection of his retinue, and before Martin could say anything to stop him, he kicked open the door closest to him. The door, which was no better than a piece of wood, flew out and hit the dusty house.
The introduced sunlight appeared in the dust, and the light beam illuminated the vague human figure sitting in front of the table, with its back to the door unprepared.
The retinue followed closely, reflexively raised his shield and threw his axe, and then drew his short sword to guard the parts of the house that were still in shadow.
The back figure waited indifferently for the missile to arrive. It cut through the shoulder blade without any obstruction, shattering a whole piece of bone and soft and brittle objects. The impact caused the unbalanced chair to fall down, raising another cloud of flying dust.
"What happened?" Mistaking the discovery of the resisters, Martin and Kraft quickly caught up.
"Ahem!" Barrow lifted his visor, coughed and exited the room, "It's nothing, you can see for yourselves. If this is the case, I guess we don't have much physical work to do here."
A sitting "flower stand" covered with brightly colored mushrooms fell in the dust. The smooth fungi clustered like a crown were covered with dust, and a throwing ax with good accuracy was embedded in the shoulder.
"It seems that your people are quite good at this?" Martin put down his sword and breathed a sigh of relief. He almost thought that there were some new traps in the room, and new things often meant trial and error.
The flying dust settled down, and the guard who threw the ax carefully looked at the rest of the small space in the room, hiding his embarrassment in nervously taking action.
This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! "It's better to go one step faster than one step slower, but don't use this ax anymore." Patting him on the shoulder, Martin stopped him from going any further.
Using the ax that was mostly submerged in the lonely bush, "What's your name?"
"Britt, Brett Ray, Knight Barlow's squire."
"Very well, Brett, you will be responsible for keeping vigil today. I hope the night breeze can make you calmer. You won't distinguish between friend and foe when things are taken away."
It was a false alarm, not a big deal. Considering that the other party was from Barrow and had a last name, Martin did not intend to delve into the other party's momentary mistakes. He only symbolically ordered to stay vigil and reflect, "Open a few more rooms and see if you can find anything."
, don’t be alone.”
"Professor, what are you looking at?"
"Nothing." Kraft shook his head and looked away from the sitting corpse. Its posture was very special. It was not sitting back normally, but sitting backwards, with its hands lying on the back of the chair, and raising its head like it was drowning and suffocating.
, a handful of yellow mushrooms with claw-like stipes grow out of the hollow eye sockets and mouth, holding up a layered umbrella like a mask.
Due to the growth and fusion of the fungus, it completely grew together with the chair, so that it still maintained this posture after falling down.
The sitting position is a common position that patients with heart failure and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease are forced to take when they have difficulty breathing to relieve symptoms.
Kraft tried to recreate the scene. At that time, he was experiencing an attack. He probably woke up during the night and wanted to sit for a while, so as to relieve the suffocation feeling through this accidentally discovered position.
Generally speaking, this is true.
But since you see it here, it means it didn't work. Some factor killed it at this time, whether it was respiratory disease or heart failure. It shouldn't be that fast, and it still retains this posture. Before it has time to change its posture, kill it
Freeze in suffocation.
"It's really scary. Let's go and see the others." I couldn't say anything like rest, it must have been a less than peaceful death. Kraft looked around the room and saw the ring hanging on the wall as expected.
, without wings.
Houses were opened one after another, and inside were fungal growth bases of different shapes. The clothes they wore during their lifetimes had disappeared, but after their deaths, they were all covered with colorful appearances that exceeded human aesthetics, making those who witnessed them look at each body.
You can find a variety of experiences ranging from terrifying to amazing.
The strange and beautiful experiences impact the consciousness of living people, even the boundaries of fear and wonder, making people ignore their essence at certain times, as if they have entered an unprecedented grand celebration, with guests all dressed in trousers.
Chic, bold and novel style.
There were also many open doors with their owners missing. Craft passed through the low cottages in the alleys and found them on the main road leading directly to the main entrance of the central church.
A gorgeous road.
Barrow and his followers, who arrived first, were stunned by the dazzling colors. It was like the stained glass of a rose window, which was ten times or a hundred times richer. It was broken into small and large pieces and melted on the ground. It was also like a scripture painted with ore dye.
It grows from the soil and is painted in front of the stone steps of the church where the perfect circle symbol is hung.
Those colorful human figures have melted into the exuberant fungus clusters, and it is impossible to tell whether they are believers making a pilgrimage to the end of the road or going together for a feast. Crown-shaped and thick gills grow at high places, shaped like a grooved corolla.
For those who were shocked, it was more than just disgusting and frightening. They were even more frightened that they did not feel that this scene was disgusting, as if this was a natural cycle that should be taken for granted and the embodiment of some kind of admirable power.
Arrive.
"Lord..." Barrow's sword fell to his side, and this brave knight who sometimes seemed reckless retreated for the first time.
Martin, who had seen the autopsy scene, performed better. He was just stunned for a moment in disbelief and recovered from the shock.
"You are right, Professor, sooner or later, those who are exposed to these things will swallow the bitter fruits they sow." He returned to the alley and wiped off the fungus residue on his shoes. "Since they have reaped the consequences, we should not continue to stay here."
this."
The intention to retreat is palpable.
I can understand this idea. The scene is too exciting for normal people. In fact, the order has not been lost at this time. It is indeed an elite division.
"But..." Craft glanced at the church. The ring mark was fixed on the wall that seemed to have been deliberately cracked. It was undoubtedly the core of the pagan village. Maybe there might be some useful clues to solve the mystery.
However, this is really not the time. Even Barrow and Martin are shaken. Others are afraid that their emotions are about to collapse. If they insist on entering now, something will probably happen.
"Let's retreat to camp far away and collect some firewood." It was getting late, and Kraft didn't think it would be a good idea to go deep alone at this time. "If there is no other way, we will burn it all."