Ouroboros Record ~Circus of Oubeniel~
067 Feast of the Dead
"Captain! I saw the village that was in the report and I came!
"... um"
To the soldier's report, the captain, led by a thousand troops, replied openly and unmindfully. On the horse of a military horse who slows down walking like a donkey horse due to the lack of Magusa, he gives a less hectic look than riding, rubbing his eyes. He appeared sloppy, even though he did not seem to be the commander of the most powerful Zanktogaren army on the continent.
I raise my voice when I see my men in the boulder.
"Captain? What happened?
"No, nothing..."
"Oh, but not at that rate -"
The captain waved back the soldier he was recruiting.
"Shut up, it's distracting. … carry out the requisition according to the prescribed procedures. We don't need to report it until the work is done or something goes wrong."
Copy that, sir.
My men quickly turned back their heels and went into action, even as they stretched their faces to their satisfaction. Dropping off that back, the captain leaks one absenteeism.
"Ugh...... eh. Oh, that's a hassle..."
Thus, he zeroed his stupidity with a voice like a toad and a reading.
He can't remember one more thing about the assignment he's been given. I am concerned about acts of looting working in the name of local expropriation...... not to say.
Ning Ro, his thoughts were the other way around.
(In a deserted village at the end of the night escape, wheat pruning? Boring......)
Hold a woman who attacked a defenseless village, took food, wound up money and moistened her throat with liquor caught. This captain was fascinated by the act of plundering, which satisfied the man's desire to conquer. Looting, breaking and entering is the hua of the battlefield. I even think so.
So the task of, for example, bringing back only the wheat of the field from a village where no one was present was not enough for him. A people who do not possess any busy weapons and defend themselves with cluttered farm tools and bars. Under the great nickname of carrying out the mission, chase this around in full, and retain it like a hunting prey. Breaking into the houses, pulling down the furniture, fishing for the wealth, trying to shrink into the storerooms and barns to find and push down the hidden wife, daughter.
Don't you enjoy such unparalleled entertainment without targeted villagers?
I can't bear the fact that there are no women in particular. She was in the army of choking men's belts and the breath of her outfit took her away. Unlike alcoholic women who come from the country, it is the best toy, no matter how rough they handle it. It was the preference of the man who tried so hard to refuse, and still enjoyed being scattered without daring, rather than being a whore or a slave whose will to resist was even broken.
And yet I didn't know you'd get that! For this captain, it was more of a serious concern to you than the current state of military supply lagging behind or the end of the war.
"Captain!
A tough voice pulls him back into reality as he was held back by bumps and unproductive thoughts. When I looked reluctantly at the voice, my men, who were supposed to have followed the instructions to the requisition, rushed back here. I leak one tickling tongue whilst I stare.
"What. We don't need to report any anomalies."
"That's the anomaly."
"-Why?
A tingling tension runs in the face of the captain, who was sloppily relaxed. I can't be indifferent to military merit with him. Even this commander of the Expeditionary Army is famous for his sturdiness. There are many who have been punished for their boredom, and lost their necks at the end of the day. If you do poorly, you can lose everything instead of being handicapped in discussing it. Therefore, I was sincerely trying to listen to the voice that rewarded the herald of the accident.
"What is an anomaly? What happened?
"Yes, I explored the village just in case before I mowed the wheat."
This is what soldiers say.
They said they looked inside the building before taking the wheat, considering the possibility of ambushes lurking inside the village, as prescribed. That's natural, too. Instead of human martial law, such as flirting and luring delicious bait away and ambushing it from the back, even animal hunting is in the basics. A classic hand, but if the Arquelle army decided it was no match for scratching with frontal power, it could have jumped at it. So it would be natural to look into the village to ensure safety first.
It is not the ambush of the enemy - as expected - that they have found. He said he saw a different sight when he went in while opening the door of the house, which was becoming alert.
What was there was a qualitative morning table view. Thinly chopped smoked meat for an eyeball grill that would be for the number of people in the family. White bread is superior in military black bread. Drinking milk in a glass. It was as if the family had eaten until earlier.
"Stupid. Were the villagers on the run before we got here? Why is there such a thing in the house?
The captain said with a suspicious frown.
If this is a village that has just been discovered today, it is also convincing. He learned of the approaching of the Zanktogaren army during the meal and fled in a hurry without even eating anything to eat. This would be natural.
But it was by the hands of scouts that this village was discovered. At that time, he said it was already deserted and only an untouched wheat field remained. If you have good scouts eyes and fast feet, you will soon find villagers and others who have just made a big run for it. Of course, it must have been reported.
If you evacuated a few days before the scouts arrived, this is odd. It won't calm you down on the boulders, but it's not too late to finish your meal, feed your English, and then run away. On the contrary, if we abandon the village and run away, we do not know when the next time we will have it on a decent meal. Then there would be no reason to leave the food in front of you alone.
The rapporteur shook his head sideways.
"I don't get it. Also, very few household tools have been brought out...... spookily, there was not one house like this. There are four or five cases that we've investigated, and all houses are the same."
"What's that? Now, it's like..."
- Isn't it as if one morning, suddenly, only the living villagers disappeared neglectfully?
I thought of the sight behind my brain, and the captain shook his little fat body all the way.
Disappeared villagers, traces of life left behind, really what it is. Isn't that a bad mystery? We must have come to war. It's the same to be tried on the liver, but I'm not here to deal with ghosts.
"... you don't see any enemy soldiers in the village, do you?
"Ha! So far, though."
"Then, as soon as you have confirmed to the end, move on to the initiation"
"Are you sure? I don't think this is the case."
"I know. But what are you gonna do if it wasn't just a matter of time?
Returned so, the soldier fell preoccupied with the answer.
Regardless, it is the role of the captain, the commander of the unit, to think about what to do. But that operational purpose imposed on him is not to solve the mystery of the disappearance of the villagers. It's only about taking supplies, starting with wheat, from this village. Sure, the traces that were in the report are creepy, but they are also military. It is not a child's use. I couldn't get food because I was scared, so I'm sorry.
No one? Then why not? It would be better if we had the requisition done quickly. What do you need to be afraid of?
At least that's what the guys up there would judge. If you come across a creepy phenomenon and eat a stop to investigate, you will be delayed in procuring food for that matter. Naturally, it also resonates with the assessment of military merit.
"If it's some kind of trap, let the troops of the escort deal with it. If it's the work of a ghost, you can call me a service priest. You get it?
"Ha..."
"Regardless, your findings will be noted specifically in the report. Somebody's gonna do a full investigation."
The captain never forgot to accompany him in saying so. If something happens after sitting back on suspicion, you may be punished for failing to make an important report. That's not funny either, so I should have explicitly stated my willingness to be able to reward you up there.
The soldier followed orders, even as he blued his face. While dropping it off, the captain snarls his nose.
"Hmm... that's just not funny"
There was no delicious afterglow attached to the requisition mission, and instead, an omelet was added that showed signs of trouble. Only extra lovers will find this interesting. He wasn't much of a fan, but I don't remember liking him.
At the very least, I hope nothing happens until I finish mowing the wheat...... with that in mind, the captain was watching the work progress.
In the end, no abnormal seemingly abnormal was found, except for life marks like the villagers suddenly disappeared. It must be creepy, but whatever it is, it hasn't shown up as an obstacle to the work. Then we should have finished what we did quickly. The soldiers of the convicted unit leave the vigilance to the escort unit and take three hundred men from the village wheat fields to pruning.
"... but it's a bad wheat."
One of the soldiers accidentally leaked that way. When it comes to the forests and the land of the elite and the soldiers of Zanktogaren, before they were recruited, they were merely people. And in the ratio of the population, it is the peasants who are the largest number of civilians. Turned to prune wheat, he was also a common peasant before the war.
Even from that peasant-raised soldier, the wheat in this village looks of poor quality.
"Aren't you that good?
A soldier who was working while exposing an unfamiliar hand next door responds to any carelessness. Probably a townsman with no experience in farming. Guess so, the peasant ascent answered with a little sense of superiority.
"Oh. The stems are blackened, and the ears are down too much. I don't think it's Alquaire wheat. Well, then, we can make better things out of our cub fields."
"Seriously...... so the rice we're going to eat is wheat porridge or bread made from this useless wheat huh? I'm gonna lose my appetite now."
"Don't talk about luxury. The food is sobering up. Just food in your mouth."
In fact, the only food consumed on the move is black bread as hard and small as pebbles, and water dissolved with salt as soup. This is also the effect of burning down stockpiled food. We have to fill that hole with the wheat we take here.
The former peasant flaunted his shoulder.
"Let's think about eating some horns, some edible food, and then going to take away the delicious ones. Anyway, it's the Alquarians who have all the food they were supposed to turn to."
"Right. The pig I stole in the meantime, fat and delicious. Real western food is what it is."
"Pig!? What a good eater you are. Where the fuck was I?
"Shh! Loud voice!... you know, when I dropped the village before, shut up to the captain -"
It was when I was interested in such a conversation even as I moved my hand.
"Leave it..."
Unexpectedly, someone whispered so.
The two soldiers stop moving with gibberish.
"Hey, did I just say something?
"Yes, no... isn't that someone else?
Even though I look around thinking so, all the soldiers around me are immersed in pruning. It doesn't seem to be in my eyes about them, or the howling sound of wheat hasn't cut it off, nor is it the distance from which a whispering voice reaches.
My spine was frizzy.
In other words, he had just seen how the villagers were disappearing like smoke. There's no reason why you can't hear anyone there, even if you put your imagination to work.
The two stopped their hands from pruning wheat and again tried to find the Lord of their voices.
"Hey......"
"" Hii!?
Moments, suddenly voiced from behind, the soldiers jumped up.
Is there a monster out there? Are we going to be attacked here ourselves? Freaking and trembling, he leans back against his fellow man and looks back in horror.
There,
"Hey, what are you doing?
There was a look of their captain, staring at this one with a suspicious look.
"Yes, Captain?
"Oh, don't be surprised..."
"Don't be surprised. Isn't my hand stopped? Hmm?"
Captain who is fattening round even now that the army is food distress. He made him roar low as if to intimidate him, but with that physique he only sounded as if a pig had sounded.
In fact, there is nothing in the squad that pays tribute to this captain. He is lazy, his habitual desire, and he is just a man of preservation in the military. Even if it lacks popularity, it must be natural.
"So, what happened? Say something."
"... Hey, what do we do?
"What are you going to do..."
Questioned with a voice lacking in force, the two soldiers face to face. Honestly, I was scared of someone's voice, and there's no reason to say that. The creepy houses in the example are so high that they seem to be naughty and anxious.
Besides, this captain has a sticky personality. If it is thought that you have annoyed an extra hand by saying unfounded things, etc., you may also get some kind of shady eight-hand hit.
"Foolish diagrams. Foolish diagrams and excuses? Talk to me if you have time for that. Look, the sun's going down."
The captain turned his face slightly west, distorting his mouth in frustration. He's right, the sun is about to set at some point. The work didn't seem to have progressed more progressively than I thought.
"Sunset...... when"
As it is, there is a risk that the pruning will not end even at dinner. I can't help it, I can't just sit back and wait for your sermon. To be honest, it doesn't even begin to make fun of me, but it doesn't start to say anything. If I had kept my mouth shut, I would have been taken with a defiant attitude and bought into discomfort. A soldier up the peasant never said his will.
"Um, I heard voices working on it."
"Voice? What voice?"
"Uh, 'leave me alone' with a small voice -"
That's when.
"Yi Yi Ye Ye Yee...... Huh!
The foot of the soldier was grabbed by someone, along with a voice echoing from the bottom of the earth.
"-What?... hi!?
Ankle commandment, a rough, cold hand feel. Frozen chills of blood crawl up from beneath your body. You're attacked by the discomfort that makes you want to jump up, but that doesn't come true either with legs that are tightened up with a force like all-powerful.
"Duh, what's up!?
"What!? Hey, what the fuck!?
As he responds to the voice of his companions and captains, the Lord of his hands tries to manifest himself.
Making a dirty noise like digging back into a grave, it crawled out.
By the way, it drips when it's wet on a bloodless, earthy skin that is rolled up. The exhaling breath is white, but there is no artificial temperature warmth there. I couldn't feel the intelligence in my lip's shredded mouth and my tongue dripping from the visible gap between my messy pile teeth. In fact, there is no light in the eyes that are so open that they are likely to fall away, and the pupil that is clouded only glides to the resentment of the raw, the potato worm.
Zombies. Moving corpses. It was a kind of undead, the most unclean blasphemous species of all demons.
"A demon, huh!? There's a demon out there!!
Soldiers who were fortunate enough never to be touched by their filthy hands shout out and call attention to their surrounding companions.
But that was a useless thing to do.
- Boko.
- Bocco, Bocco.
- Bocco, bocco, bocco!
From there in the wheat fields, you can hear the sound of digging the ground back from the bottom. How many or dozens of rotten hands with the sound stretched out as unclean harvests.
"Leave it..."
"Hey hey hey hey..."
"Yi Yi Ye Ye Yee...... Huh!
"There you go, zombies!
"Hey, what's with all these zombies?!?
A bunch of zombies emerge one after the other as the sun approaches. I don't have to call attention. The soldiers saw a rotten corpse overflowing there, and made themselves strong in its horrible appearance.
"What about him?!?
A fat captain is stunned by the voices raised by the zombies.
The soldier laughed at it with his nose.
"What are you freaking out about, Captain! There's only so many of them, but they're zombies!
He screams to inspire his upset self, slashing him with a sword at a zombie who remains grasping his colleague's foot.
Zombies belong to a lower category among the undead. Since it is merely a moving corpse, combat power is the extent to which hairs have grown in the original creature. I mean, a human zombie can defeat you just like a human. He's only dead already and there's no steeple, but he's not alive, so he can't move. I'm not the one a soldier can't defeat.
Not to mention here are the Zanktogalenians whose battle against demons is a daily tea meal. There was no need to be scared like a zombie. Even if there were, it's only a dislike for its scrupulousness and fouling.
However,
"Huh!?
As soon as the tip of the sword touches the flesh of the zombie, a grumpy feeling passes to the hand holding the pattern.
Indeed, the soldier's sword slashed the zombie. But shallow. Under a single piece of celestial skin, tough muscles that you don't think are rotting hold the blade back. Though his body ate slightly, he stopped without going any further.
On the contrary, dirty juice corrodes the metal and rapidly floats rust.
"Get your sword back on! You're going to be useless!
"Ha, ha!
My superior officer drinks me and leaves the monster like he was bounced.
"Just a zombie talking! He's one of the best zombies in the world!
To the captain's roar, the soldier realized his failure.
Zombies don't speak. They may pronounce roaring, but they cannot speak words that make sense, as the deceased in front of them does. It was the characteristics of the superior species, with a higher ability than the zombies of the inferior species, that left only the intelligence to solve words while the cerebral miso rotted.
"They took the field stuff and left it," he said? Protect the wheat in the field, peasants, the undead that surrounds your lifetime behavior...... CHICK! That means he and the others, Levenant!
"Fuck, Lebnand?
Lebnandt. That is the word in Alquetian that means' the one who comes back '. It is literally an undead with a habit of trying to return to the place where he lived his life after his death and live on the basis of previous forms of behavior. And Lebnand strikes those who disturb his actions with animosity.
Of course, such expertise in demons is not readied for one soldier who has just been conscripted. The captain spared no time explaining to his ignorant men,
"Only if you know you're a strong zombie!
Scream like that, flashing your hand grabbing the foot of a soldier rising a peasant. Disconnect the restraints and wake up your hip-drawn men.
"Get up! This stupid picture!
"Ha-ha, sorry! So, but my legs are cold."
"You're being cared for! The trousers have been cut off and the venomous liquid has been stained. If you don't hurry, your legs will rot!
"- Hiy!?
A small, fat middle-aged man with no wind, scolded his men for his appearance and determination to betray his usual predisposition.
The soldier who escapes from the mischievous hand of Lebnand obeys the captain in obedience, abandoning the affront of ordinary times.
The captain raised his voice as he hid the soldier behind his back, intimidating his enemies with his sword.
"Gather around! Collection - hey!! Formation, dense formation!!
The Commander's fury echoes, suppressing also the groans of Lebnand and the upset voices of the soldiers. It was a brilliant order, seemingly a trinket that was only interested in looting.
Distracted by the sudden appearance of demons, his men, each fighting in pieces, rush to gather under the captain as if they were sane.
"Get together, you idiots! Break through the thin spots of the undead and join the escort!
"Ha!
The captain then turns his attention to one of the most feeble soldiers gathered.
"And the hips there. Give me your sword."
"What, ha!? Hey, why!?
A soldier with a voice turned his back to shelter his sword. At a time like this, did you even think you were willing to loot it from your men?
The captain stares at the soldiers with the look in front of the eclampsia.
"No matter how many spare weapons you have on your undead opponent, it's not enough! Because it degrades with rotten juice and curses!
"And I do! Without a sword, you can't fight!
The seemingly feeble young man strips his eyes and resists the captain. It was totally panic. I can't feel safe without a weapon at hand, and I don't even think about keeping it with people. As it was, he could have joined the dead with his sword.
The soldier, who was not hostile earlier in his attempt to slay Lebnand, says in a sigh that he had no choice.
"You, can you slay strong zombies with that sword? They're twice or triple harder than regular zombies, aren't they? Can you still kill him?
"Oh, that's..."
"Captain, no, the Captain's lord has been slashed. He slashed my arm and helped me."
Say, still rattling and trembling peasant rising with his chin. The weak looking soldier finally gave up and offered his sword. The captain hunched his nose, looking back and flashing with a new sword.
"Put it down - yay yeah... Huh!?
Soon the looming unity of the Levnants is slashed diagonally from the shoulders and falls to the ground. Surprisingly, it's still working even in two. Even as the captain frowns annoyingly, he makes an intervention to the detriment of literal death.
"You just have to do that from the start!... Hey, you're not going to be able to fight either. Pull over! Every sheath!
"Ha, yes y!?
The former peasant also gave him his sword in a move like he was bounced. Captain forced to handle the third sword to his waist belt. Shake it a few times to make sure it's fixed, he tells the soldiers.
"Okay? They're the superior subspecies of zombies, the shitty drooling Levnants! In this way it is stronger, more powerful and more poisonous than the coarse zombies.... but that's all!
Saying, with a sword in his right hand, he pointed to a horde of impending monsters. Before the soldiers in dense formation, a large group of the dead had begun a cursory and far-flung siege.
"As you can see, brain miso rots and movement is no different from lower species! So much so that we can chat in front of each other."
"Ya, sure..."
One soldier speaks convincingly. If this was a people-shaped monster like Auga or Troll, it was around the time I was starting a bloody riot with a total attack on it. Yet the Levnants, leaking the repetition of the example, are in the midst of packing their time in a rude motion. This is not difficult if you just run away.
The soldiers, who were standing on its sudden emergence and stubbornness, also regain calm in the captain's explanation.
"There are weaknesses too! I can't attack without reaching my hands and feet, so if I even get a distance, it's one of ours. It is also vulnerable to fire as a constant loss of life. Cremating is easy. And most importantly, they are more untrained in the territory than regular zombies! I can't stay away from you!
"So you think if you can get out of this field, you can get away with it?
Or you can go outside this village.
Levnants have a strong obsession with the places they once lived because of their habit of conjuring lifelong behavior. Painfully untrained emotions play a role in amplifying this undead resentment and strengthening his abilities with negative force. But if you give it back, it means you'll be tied to one place for it.
From what I've seen, the identity of these Levnants is the fruit of the village peasants. Then the range of action will be limited to the precision inside the village.
"That's why. Even if you are approached by an enemy, do not chase them thoroughly to repel them, but make rendezvous with your allies a top priority. You get it!?
"" Ha!
Responding with a voice to the captain's orders, the soldiers begin an escape line.
"Leave it...!
"Hey, there! What do you care about wheat for the rest of your life? Drop it now, it's going to pack and the enemy is coming for it!? Escape first, I thought you ordered!
"Shh, excuse me!
"Run, run, fools! If you guys have something better than these rotten corpses, it's just your head that can listen to orders and their rat-like escape legs! Without it, we're gonna die here!
"" Hih, no, no!
I don't know what kind of roundabout they had. Their commander said that bareback and breeze were both horns and could be relied upon in these critical situations. Instruct calmly, take the lead, eliminate the enemy, and surely lead your men under your side.
But still, no sacrifice had to be made.
"Yi Yi Yee Yee...!
"Hiya!? This way, this way too!
"Let go, you monster!...... ghhh eh eh!!
In front of the soldiers trying to retreat, a new Levnant springs up as if they were ambushing. Soldiers unfortunately within reach of their arms are neglected and brutally torn apart.
That's not all.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa...!
"AARRGGG......"
The dead, who have been sacrificed by monsters, will also be resurrected as new monsters. Some to the zombies who rotted their flesh at an unnatural speed, and others to the skeletons who were stripped of their flesh and only boned. And they attack the living who still hold their lives, adding to their people.
The captain takes the survivors out of the wheat fields, reaches under his allies, or opens his mouth most loudly.
"Escorts! Do you have a magician?
When one of the hundred captains of the convoy slaughtered and killed the monster who had also appeared here, he looked back and replied.
"... Ha! That's for sure."
Originally an escort accompanied by enemy elites in preparation for their assault. It was only natural that a powerful magician was placed to fight back.
"Right. Now let magic set fire to it."
"Ha, ha!?
Surroundings make noise at the outrageous words unleashed by looters.
"Set fire to it?
"Sure the undead are vulnerable to fire..."
"Then precious wheat..."
"What are you thinking, Captain!?
A annoying glance at the noisy allies, the captain grabs one wheat hoe that was growing nearby and shows it.
"You can't eat wheat like this anyway! They grew up in a field full of undead people, didn't they? I'm sure it's decided to be corrupt, poisoned, cursed."
"Ah...!
A peasant-raised soldier, helped earlier by the captain, brought the colour of understanding to his eyes.
Reminds me of what I was talking to my colleagues about just before Lebnand's raid. The rich Arquelle kingdom of crops and others, wheat with dark stems as if they had become ill. It was poisoned by the undead and it was getting worse.
Seeing, both what the captain grabs up and what swarms into a field on one side produce potpouts and ominous black squads. The poison of the immortal is spinning. Now you can turn it over to the food.
"Besides, you can leave these massive monsters alone. Now it's nothing but rotten death caged in the territory, but I don't know what will happen in the unlikely event that a fellow with intelligence joins us."
That was also true again. Leave the demons alone. Sometimes good things happen. If I could kill him, killing him then would have been a good idea.
"I don't have a body to talk about, but I can't help it... Team Mage, set the fire!
"" Ha. "
Ten of the Tiger Son's Wizards quickly enter the chant. But there was a color of commonality and dissatisfaction in that face. That would be natural, too. A demon mentor, generally inferior to his physical strength than a warrior, was driven out of his way by the army and even took part in the war over an unfamiliar mountain. Yet the work I received while holding my empty stomach is a substitute for the fire-fighting tools for the field. My pride as an educator I learned from the Academy would have been greatly hurt.
Nevertheless, if that is the way to dispose of the herd of undead efficiently, then we can only be patient. Defeat the demon. Especially the undead, who may take in and increase those who curse and kill the living, especially in mind. That was common sense and the rule in this world.
"..." Fireball: "" Flame Lance:! "" Heatwind: "
Even if I take one use of magic in times like this, it gives me the character of a magician. He who does it with fire and low-level magic. Those who aim for levnants like eight hits, and then use medium magic without the need. Or seriously, such as someone who chooses a spell that will set fire to a wide area of what is inferior to power.
And the magic of the wizards landed upon the field, and set it on fire.
"-Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah!?
"ARRRGGGGGHHH!!
And swallowed a flock of Lebnants into the sea of flames.
"Okay, it's working! No, it works on the surface!
"Damn you, you rotten bastards!
"Buddha, you shit-dripping bastards!
Soldiers hail at the sight of the silhouettes of the deceased burning down into flames.
But the captain who keeps the troops of a thousand men, and the lower commanders beneath them, cannot bear the complexion.
"... command to the magicians. Go on. Prepare the wind magic. Change the direction of the wind, let it burn, burn down the village."
"... Ha!
They spread the flames further, and they try to burn the deserted village as well. The soldiers looked at the captains in wonder.
The captain answers in advance the questions his men will have with a grumpy look.
"Lebnants are not undead like this occurs in large numbers either. Sure, I'll add more of the killers to my crew, but they're slow to move, and they're not interested outside the narrow territory."
"Ha... but actually in large quantities -"
"Bullshit! That's why I'm saying there's been an artificial increase!
The captain's anger flew at the ill-conceived soldier.
Increase undead artificially. The soldiers peel their eyes at the words. Blasphemy of life, increasing the monsters whose very way defies the Church's teachings, whether by themselves or by their own will? I wonder if that could happen.
The captain's explanation continues as many soldiers flaunt themselves.
"Remember, what it was like when you surveyed a deserted village. There is still a meal of food on the table, and there is no particular indication of a dispute. You did, huh?
"Yes. But what does that mean?"
"You still don't get it?... assuming someone in the villagers became a levnant and attacked his lifetime companions to increase the number, it would be odd if the house wasn't rougher!
If you ask me, it was. Levenant's attacks are only melee attacks with hands and feet. It also seems to be a zombie undead with reduced intelligence, something that lacks precision. If such a thing stormed around the entire village, it would leave traces of the victim's blood and scatter the destroyed goods, and the traces would absolutely remain. At least there can be no such thing as a beautiful dish left on the table.
"This means that this herd of levnants, someone attacked the villagers and made it into ingredients. And the intellect that leaves no trace in the village, and the power that keeps the villagers from escaping and being punished as a whole."
The suggested possibilities were the zooming content of the spine. Wipe away all the inhabitants without a trace, even the despicable countryside, and turn it into an undead. What is a being with so much ability?
A powerful necromancer who stepped off the road, or - a fairly high-ranking intelligent undead. It is in any case a fearful enemy that will not be alarmed.
The soldier raised a terrible question.
"That's still hiding in that village," he said?
"I don't know. You may have already left the land more than you didn't show up during the investigation. but there's no chance of that. There's a hidden room somewhere in the building that might be lurking there... so if you think about it, it's deserted, you'd better burn it down just in case."
The captain sees the village burning with a flaming look. The rugged eye seemed to be trying to find the face of the lousy man who set this trap ahead of his gaze.
"Oh... do terrible things, my country of nostalgia, the military men of Zanktogaren. How dare you burn down every village the poor villagers who tried to protect their fields?
An ominous silhouette laughs in a village doubly red-stained with sunset and flames.
Long, skinny body wrapped in a cape, shaking like an influencer stretched out into 3D. The face itself is even brilliant and noble fun, but the look distorted by ridicule is endlessly demeaning. Skin that could see whiteness even at dusk was more inhuman than beauty, and stirred disgust.
That, if I may say so, is a malicious calicature to the being of aristocracy. The Blue Blood Flower depicted as a monster sipping folk grass blood (Blue Blood).
Vampires, monsters with beauty and double decadence, who reign as nobles of the undead.
The name is Charles Franz Schmidt. Name it, Opus 04. It was the fourth "work" of the curse, laid down by the demonic alchemist.
"But now it's as your husband planned, and mentions mass"
What appeared without sound from behind was a beautifully dissimilar woman named Golden Eyes - or something with a feminine form - in her platinum hair.
That's the statuesque faceless look that floats in the statue-like beauty exquisitely carved out by the divine craftsman. The thin, supple and even soft body is made of the most stubborn metal in the world. An ear covering that stretches up as high as a horn is a man-made sensor that outperforms even wildlife hearing.
Opus 05, Fem. A combat machine that turns a lost technology into a created golem and holds weapons created by an unknown technology. Just like Shirl, it is one of the "works" created by the outer passage by using external methods.
"Guests arriving from the west also arrive on schedule, and the announcement mass"
Femme puts her hand on both ears of the anomaly as she says it. She was so picking up conversations and listening in kilometers of separated places.
- Look, the village's on fire!
"- The army you see over there is Zanktogaren!?
'- Ya knew that rumor was true...!
The western part of the state, scouts on the Arquelle side sent by the state capital Voldan. What they see is the sight of the countryside flaming through the dusk. Distance and darkness, flames and smoke had degraded the information given to witnesses into terribly limited objects.
The Zanktogaren army set fire to the countryside.
Even Shirl laughs delightfully at the look of the scouts who would stir up so much receiving and hateful.
"No, our master still thinks the same thing! The outrageous invader Zanktogaren... I can't believe you created that image so effectively!
"What do you say, and rebuttal mass. Zanktogaren army outrage is a fact and shaw. I am taking supplies from the people of this country, killing people, forcing women to do things that are not in line with their will, Death. Even if you added arson to the village there, and the alleged massacre, what now, Deja?
"Shit, that's the same thing, hey! This kind of thing, what do you say? In the woods if you want to hide the trees? Or... no smoke where there is no fire, was it? Pfft! This is a joke, so you can laugh, okay? Phew Phew!"
"It's not funny at all, and say what you think, Mass"
"No, Fem, you're tough!
Shirl with his fingered hands next to his face, twisting his body nasty in a big way. Femme's mechanical eye traces it into the center of her vision.
It was this man who was acting like he was kidding, but secretly attacked this village and wiped it out, turning the villagers he killed into levnants. Regardless, he is usually a vampire, the natural enemy of mankind, and as it becomes important when existence is exposed, he is hidden in the basement. It can't be more arbitrary than showing up and acting on the ground.
It was all at the behest of his Lord, Turius Shrounan Ovenil.
"I'm very funny, but hey! No, it's not a boring joke, it's this operation. The humans in this state are perfectly convinced that the Zanktogarens are going around on fire. We're burning villages and fields everywhere, even with the Master's instructions!
"Please don't slap me in the mouth for nothing," demanded Mass. This is Amasen in the lab. There's no chance we're being bugged, Death. "
"Ha-ha-ha! Femme is worried. No trace of magic interference in the surrounding area. No sign of a creature. Unless you're out of common sense, you can't eavesdrop on our conversation!
"But you should be mindful," he suggested, mass. This is an important operational action, and now a wartime deathbed. It's also a matter of getting too distracted than clear adversaries exist, Kato. "
"Yes, sir. I know. Sooo."
Standing aside and clapping his shoulders, Schaal walks through a village of chickens and flames. And when I stopped at one corner, I snapped my pussy and fingers.
Immediately after, the ground at his feet trembles.
- Bocoli.
It was one coffin that pushed the dirt away and showed up there. It is made of thick iron, wrapped in tightly thick chains, sealed, and even attached to a lock. Whatever it is, it's the coffin the vampire called in from the ground. There was no way that the contents were legitimate corpses.
- Don't, don't, don't!
As soon as the coffin breathed air on the ground, I heard a heavy slap on the lid from the inside.
"Whoa, I'm fine... shall we get to work then? Fem, you were called back from the West on purpose for this, right?
"Right, and affirmative mass. The testing of the new 'product' following the S series is one of the tasks given to you by your husband, Kara."
While I look sideways at Femme's face saying that, I don't think that's all, Charles thinks.
He thought it was himself this golem really sees. Golem, who has no biological flesh and thinks things in artificial thought circuits, has absolutely no idea of his ability to be a vampire and a necromancer. Monitor yourself as you go out on the ground and operate, and if you show rebellion, end it. That's why the Lord called her back to the western border.
(You really are a horrible person, Ovenil kun...)
Vampires tinkle down their throats, blurring their inner fears with the look of a dogma.
While imitating him with his right hand poking a pile at his heart, he flickers with his left hand what could be his substitution - do it if you want, I'll get a replacement ready to finish soon, desperately do it to me if you don't want to be replaced... What his Lord took was the same thing with no words or even saying so.
(It's okay, Ovenil, my master. Don't let that happen, you hit my head. [M] There's no way I could betray you if I vowed obedience from my soul. So, stop it! Me, me, please don't finish me off!)
"What's up, 04, and ask Mass. Your body is trembling, Suga."
To Femme's inorganic voice, Sharr is ha-ha-ha sane.
He turned to her as he made a grin with Nicole - wondering if the affectionate grin was too blatant.
"... no, the samurai tremble is the one. Somehow, it's a toy the master bothered to put his hand on, and he's the first one to let me play with it, so hey! I can't help but look forward to it, can you?
"Really, and convinced mass. Sure, I'm looking forward to finishing this prototype, Sne. However, I am concerned that your husband has lost confidence in one thing, Death."
That would also be true, he insists. Either way, this is a prototype or a prototype, which is also a raw material. The primitive body has reused the waste product. I also put it into this operation because it was scrapped and I got actual data. At last, if you can manipulate the situation after this, you can make money. Schaal's assignment of the operation would have been combined with a horse of interest to him.
But that's why we have to use it well. His credibility will be greatly enhanced in the Lord if he succeeds in the operation using this new prototype. If we show ourselves where we can use it, the worst future is disposal.
Even if this prototype is meant to make his replacement.
As if to shake off the grid of the plank, Charles Franz Schmidt gives a particularly cheerful voice.
"Well, let's get started then! It's time for the sun to go down, and time for a horror show is coming up! It's still too early to be relieved, huh? All of Zanktogaren!?...... haha, haha, haha!!
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