I am creating a esoteric religion in London

Chapter 13 Moths?Fat Moth!
Watson originally saw Elson stop struggling, and thought he had killed the other party.

Unexpectedly, the other party still had the extra strength to spit out curse-like last words. He directly twisted the broken wooden stick, stirred up the contents inside, and completely ended the other party's sinful life.

He looked down at the corpse that was no longer moving, and thought in his heart:

"Is this the strength of the heretics who have practiced Si Chen's Secret Tradition? It seems to be nothing more than that...the vitality is indeed tenacious, but it is far behind Lance."

"The magic of turning knives is quite interesting. Is this the origin of the apprentice of the blade? I don't know if there is any magic that can change other things in this world... I feel that the title of apprentice of Gatling is quite suitable for me. .”

"Anyway, I still have to thank you Elson for giving me some knowledge about Mansu, although I don't know if it's true or not."

Watson was hesitant to dig a hole to bury the other party. After all, the other party could be regarded as his half-first teacher, although the eagerness was just to relax his vigilance and carry out a sneak attack.

But suddenly there was a soft rustling sound under his feet, and he saw the blood flowing from the eye sockets of Elson's unrecognizable corpse, dripping down the fat face to the thick moss like a wool carpet.

Those flora glowing with strange blue light are like jackals smelling blood. They protrude dark green roots from the ground, wrap around Elson's spiritual body, and penetrate deeply into the body from the eyes, nose, ears, mouth and other openings. Taking root, it soon covered the entire corpse, dragging it down, as if devouring it.

After a while, there was no sign of Elson in the Mansu except for the slightly arched and rapidly sinking moss.

"..."

Watson couldn't help giving a thumbs up when he saw this, what a caring woodland!It even has such an advanced intelligent and harmless automatic corpse destruction function, it is really a must-have treasure for home travel and killing people! ! !

He waited quietly for the woodland to swallow Erson completely, until the ground was completely flat.

Just as he was about to turn around and leave, in the deep darkness of the forest in the distance, there was a strange sound resounding through the sky, as if countless flying insects were flapping their wings.

The sound of the huge flapping wings is so intense and high, and there is some kind of wonderful rhythm between the fluttering and fluttering, as if it is playing a passionate symphony that pierces the clouds and cracks the rocks.

Watson couldn't help being dazed, and the trees in the woodland seemed to be intoxicated by it, trembling and dancing violently, with black branches and leaves and dark green fruits falling down like a violent hailstorm.

Watson couldn't dodge, and was hit by several head-sized fruits on his head. As if he was bombarded by a series of punches from a heavyweight player, he couldn't help being dizzy, staring at stars, and quickly squatted on a curved spot as high as a door arch under the root system.

He listened carefully to the vast sound in the distance, felt the ground under his feet tremble slightly, and said to himself, "Is it the great migration of Mansu creatures?"

"Sounds more spectacular than the African bison in the animal world."

However, Watson felt that something was wrong when he heard it. Why was the sound getting louder and more shocking? It seemed that a huge army of insects... was attacking him!

Flap -- flap -- flap -- flap!
The sound of flapping wings was getting closer and closer, as if it was within reach. Watson felt that the huge swarm of insects seemed to have come to his head. Just as he was hesitating whether to probe out to see what was going on, the sound of flapping wings But it stopped abruptly and disappeared without a trace, as if what he heard just now was another delusional fantasy of his.

"This woodland is really getting weirder..."

Although the outside seems to have calmed down, and now only the faint sound of the wind can be heard, Watson still has an ominous premonition. According to the routine of horror movies in later generations, whenever it seems safe and sound, it will often happen in the next second. Unlucky.

He crouched patiently under the thick roots, and began to check the injuries on his hands. The knife that Elson conjured up with tricks was really sharp, and he cut a hole in his palm that was almost as deep as the bone, and the rolled flesh on both sides Appears pale due to excessive blood loss.

"If Elson's words are true, then I should be in some kind of soul-like state now... I didn't expect that the sense organs are no different from the real body, and they will be injured and bleed. It is strange, no wonder the [-]th floor of hell Here also use torture to punish villains.”

Watson tore off the corner of the silk hospital gown that came with the dream, wound up the wound, and planned to get up and continue looking for a way out.

As soon as Clinker looked up, he saw a pair of big black eyes staring at him!

It was a giant moth the size of a washbasin. The tentacles on the top of its head were like icy-white comb-toothed teeth, like two plastic combs inserted into its forehead. Its fat and round body was covered with gray-white long hair. The wings are like crystal clear snowflakes, and the white veins in them are clearly visible.

At the moment, it is hanging upside down from the root vault with its stubby little toe hook, and its two eyes, which are as clear as black gemstones, reveal a trace of curiosity.

Watson saw his surprised face from those mirror-black eyes, but he felt absurd in his heart. He actually thought that this fat white moth... looked quite cute.

But how could this strange woodland be a harmless creature to humans and animals? Watson's natural vigilance made him clenched the broken wooden stick in his hand, thinking about how to make a surprise attack later.

The fat white moth seemed to be able to feel the hidden killing intent of the human beings in front of him, but he smiled indifferently, and an arc like a smile appeared on his face inconceivably!
Its curled-up mouthparts suddenly straightened like sharp needles, so fast that Watson had no time to react, and the gleaming needle pierced deeply into his forehead.

Watson seemed to feel a chill going straight into his brain, down to an organ in the center of the cranial cavity, which seemed to be the location of the pineal gland.

Immediately afterwards, a refreshing feeling of coolness flowed through the whole body, like a cool breeze caressing the face in summer.

Watson only felt unprecedented comfort and comfort, his spirit seemed to have returned to the original embryonic form, growing wildly in the sealed cocoon.

Click, the cocoon of the skull burst, and the wild moths tore apart the chrysalis and broke out of the cocoon.

Watson seemed to be enlightened, the pineal gland in his skull was beating violently, and a scripture with unknown meaning appeared in his mind for no reason.

The scriptures are incoherent like drunken gibberish, and the scriptures are scrawled like moths flying in disorder, a chaotic fantasy.

But Watson unexpectedly understood the meaning. He followed the rhythm and sang the ballad from ancient times. It was a strange tone like the wings of moths.

It means: the moth is flying high, the moth is dancing low, the moth is lying on the tree, the moth mates with itself and gives birth to the young moth, the young moth breaks out of the cocoon and becomes a moth, and then the moth flies high...

The song rang through the woodland, and the trees all around danced for joy, their branches swaying and rustling.

The moth nodded happily. It spread its scales and flew straight up, as if chasing the bright moon, throwing away unnecessary things while flapping its wings.

Scattered scales and powders, like bright starlight, all sprinkled on Watson who was falling into madness and singing loudly.

He unconsciously trembled all over, like fear, but also like gratitude.

The indescribable excitement was like waves beating, and Watson was so comfortable that he couldn't help but let out a groan.

This groan came from the bottom of his heart, stretching even his spirit and body.

It was also this tremor that Watson woke up from his dream.

　In the text of the Temple of the Wheel in the original [Road: Woodland], it is mentioned that there are graffiti of the low-level gods of the woodland on the boulder, but the actual game did not mention it too much, so I played it freely

　　
　
(End of this chapter)