At dinner time, the female shopkeeper called out the poet who was practicing piano in the backyard: "Go to Marlowe's house and call your little cousin over. Didn't their family go to the city to see a doctor? The child is only ten years old, and there is no one in their family. He cooks."
The poet stretched himself: "It's getting dark, his family must be back. If you don't come back, the city gate will be locked."
"Anyway, go and have a look. If they really don't come back, wouldn't it be more pitiful for your little cousin to be at home alone at night?"
The poet thought about it too, so he put down his piano and went out.
During the day, he took a bounty hunter to Marlowe's house once. They didn't go in, and the ten-year-old cousin only opened the courtyard door a crack. The poet originally wanted to go in and sit down, but he was afraid that his little cousin would ask him for pocket money, so he left immediately with the hunter.
After dark, the village was as quiet as a no man's land. Now everyone is afraid of encountering monsters, and they even go out together during the day, but at night, many people dare not even open the windows.
The poet deeply regrets that the previous Heishu Village was not like this.
It used to be "epic time" after dinner, when most of the village would gather at the "Singing Hut" to hear stories and play and sing. Sometimes it's a witty ditty, sometimes it's a long saga, and every three days there's a "kid's hour" about fun adventures that kids love. It is precisely because of this tradition that the poet can be called the "resident" bard of Blacktree Village.
Things have changed now, and people no longer like to hear about legendary adventures, even during the day. Stirring stories usually have monsters and murders, but now that there are real monsters near the village, and people really died because of them, everyone will only feel sorry for them when they hear such stories again.
The poet himself is somewhat frightened. For example, now, he is walking alone on a quiet path. Fortunately, the sheriff's house is not far away, just turn a corner ahead.
As soon as he walked out of the corner of the path, he heard soft cries from the yard of the sheriff's house. The voice only raised a little, and then immediately lowered. It was a female voice, maybe it was my aunt or my cousin.
Although I don't know what happened to them, it at least shows that there are people in the family and they have returned from the city.
The crying made the poet a little worried. His uncle, the sheriff Marlowe, has been suffering from injuries and illnesses. After returning from this visit, some people in the family are still crying... Could it be that Marlowe's condition has deteriorated
The poet hesitated at the door for a while, thought out his words, and then went up to knock on the door.
It was his youngest cousin who came to open the door, a child who was only ten years old.
The poet originally wanted to take the child away, but now that his family members have returned, the poet changed his words and said that he wanted to go in and see his uncle Marlowe.
The little cousin had the same bitter face as during the day, and said to him: "Mom, Dad, brother and sister haven't come back yet, they took Dad to the city."
After finishing speaking, he seemed to think of something again, and immediately added: "I have already eaten, I am a little sleepy, and I am sleeping."
The poet was stunned. He could hear clearly just now that there must be someone else in the room.
He straightened his face immediately. It's not that he deliberately scares the children, but that he suspects that something bad happened to his uncle, and he feels nervous.
"Tell me the truth," he pressed his little cousin's shoulder, "what's the matter with Marlowe?"
The child insisted that he was the only one at home. But the child is only a child after all, when he lies, the first one or two sentences are quite natural, but after being asked a few times repeatedly, his expression gradually becomes a little flustered.
The poet looked into the yard through the crack of the door, and the little cousin stuck his body on the crack of the door, and grabbed the door panel with his little hands, apparently for fear that the poet would force his way in. The poet was heartbroken, grabbed his cousin's armpits with both hands, and wanted to hug the child aside, but who knew that the child was much heavier than he imagined, and he didn't pick it up.
An adult and a child were chatting at the door like this, and no one dared to call out.
Although they didn't dare to make a sound, there was a sudden heavy blunt sound in the room, accompanied by a scream.
The two people at the door froze. The two cousins looked at each other and ran towards the house together.
The two-story hut of the Marlowe family was small, and the house was not lit. The poet rushed in and didn't know where to look. The little cousin gave him a hand and led him to the kitchen.
There was a painful whimper in the dark kitchen, and a shadow squirmed and squirmed on the floor. The cousin quickly lit the candles on the table, and the poet saw clearly that it was his aunt and eldest cousin lying on the ground.
There was a square cellar entrance on the kitchen floor, and my aunt and eldest cousin were lying on the entrance, pulling something vigorously.
The little cousin immediately rushed forward: "What's the matter! What's the matter!"
The aunt was babbling and shouting, her voice was hoarse, and her language changed when she cried. The poet could hardly understand what she said. But the elder cousin focused his eyes and didn't say a word. He didn't even notice that there was a candle in the room and that there was another person in the room.
After seeing the situation in front of him clearly, the little cousin also yelled loudly, and immediately lay down and grabbed something.
The poet was a little scared by the situation in front of him, but he still mustered up the courage and walked over.
He didn't see his uncle's body or anything like that, but his aunt and two cousins lying pale on the edge of the cellar, clutching his cousin's arms, clothes and even hair, desperately pulling her up.
The wooden door of the cellar was placed on the back of the cousin, blocking the view. The poet could not see what was going on below, and could only hear the heavy breathing from the cellar.
"What's the matter!" The poet also knelt down and grabbed one armpit of his cousin.
As soon as he exerted force, he felt it... There was something pulling her down, and the force was so strong that even so many people above couldn't pull that force.
The family didn't bother to answer him at all. They were so frightened that they could only scream, and could not even utter complete words. Only the cousin didn't scream, her head was tilted to one side feebly, her eyes were closed, and she had lost consciousness.
There was a suspicious "creaking" sound from below, as if the fabric was torn... It may also be that the human body was torn off. The four people lying on the ground heard it. They didn't dare to use too much force, nor did they dare to let go of their hands. When their strength relaxed a little, the cousin's body was dragged down a few inches.
"Get out of the way, let me go." At this moment, a familiar voice sounded at the door.
The family turned their heads and were pleasantly surprised to see the bounty hunter Kalinger.
Although Kalinger said "get out of the way", the family dared not let go of their daughter's hand. They just stayed where they were, keeping their bodies as low as possible, as if they were too scared to stop thinking.
The kitchen was too small for Kalinger. He walked over quickly, and the weapons on his waist and back made clanking noises.
He stepped directly over the poet's head, kicked open the square door fastened on the girl's back, and jumped directly into the cellar.
The family felt that the pulling force loosened, and they immediately pulled hard, and finally dragged the unconscious daughter up completely.
The girl's long skirt was torn, one leg was stained with blood, and the other leg not only had a valgus wound, but was also twisted at a terrifying angle. Mrs. Marlowe started howling on the spot, the poet hurriedly took off his coat and wrapped his cousin up, while the older and younger cousins supported the crying mother.
Callinger's voice came from the cellar: "Get out! Stay away!"
"Okay!" The poet responded with tears, "How far does it take?"
"In your yard!"
"Good! Good!"
Inside the cellar, the monster was five steps away from Kalinger.
Its eyes are red, and some human features can be seen on the upper half of its face, while the lower half is ragged, with protruding jaws, and its fangs pierced directly through the gums and lips. It landed on its feet, with black burrs growing on its neck, hands and feet.
Kalinger touched the hilt of the broadsword, looked around, and sighed again.
The space is too narrow, and it will be hindered by using a broad-edged sword; the creature in front of him has rough skin and thick flesh, and it is easy to be damaged by a thin machete.
Kalinger took off the small battle ax on his back and weighed it in his hand: "I can kind of understand why the elf is full of foul words, and I really want to curse now..."
The monster shook its head, sniffed the air, roared, and rushed towards Kalinger. Kalinger did not dodge, but directly faced the monster's fangs, pushed the ax into the monster's upper jaw, and with a strong wrist, the monster's head was hit by the impact and hit the cellar roof, losing its balance and falling backwards.
Although the monster's mouth was stuck by the ax, its front paws firmly grasped Kalinge, and Kalinge did not struggle. He took advantage of the opportunity to ride on the chest of the fallen monster, and took out a small tin box from his pocket.
In the tin box is the last pill from the elf. Kalinger took out a pearl-sized pill and poked it into the monster's gaping gullet.
In fact, Kalinger can not give it this medicine. Anyway, he came to kill it, so it doesn't matter if it takes medicine or not. But Kalinger gave it medicine anyway.
Because he wanted to see what the effect of the medicine was, and whether it was consistent with his guess.
After a while, the strength of the monster's claws loosened. Kalinger stood up from it, took the ax away, and the monster slowly closed its mouth, its chest heaving slowly.
Kalinger stood in front of the monster, but the monster neither attacked nor defended. It was wounded, lying there peacefully, half of its face that still had human features showed a look of comfort and contentment.
Kalinger drew out the scimitar and pressed it against the monster's neck. The monster was still lazy and calm, showing no sign of resistance.
During the day, those militiamen and city guards also took the same medicine. After taking it, everything was the same, and they didn’t have this kind of morbid fatigue. They even became more energetic when patrolling... Kalinger thought to himself, about As for the function of the medicine, he did guess partly right and partly wrong.
This medicine is not to prevent people from being infected, but a placebo for alien infected bodies. It inhibits the action of the infected body, and even without the help of the hunter, the infected body that eats the drug will become harmless for a certain period of time.
The elf probably wanted to deal with this quietly, not wanting to cause panic. His thinking is not wrong. From yesterday to today, since the village is still calm, it means that the infected body has not completely mutated.
If Sheriff Marlowe could take the medicine during the day, he probably wouldn't attack his family right now.
Thinking about it this way, the mountain forest became much calmer overnight, which may also be related to this drug.
What Kalinger doesn't quite understand is, since the Elven Mage has the means to suppress the infected body, why doesn't he finish the job in one step? The alien infection phenomenon in the mountain forest has lasted for so long, which shows that he has never used this medicine on a large scale and thoroughly.
Is it because the medicine has just been researched? Or is it not possible to mass produce for some reason
"Oh, I'll ask him later." Kalinger stuffed the tin box back into his pocket, and then pressed and stroked the scimitar.
Blood gushed out from the monster's neck, and it neither struggled nor screamed, and the red light in its eyes gradually dimmed to pitch black.
Kalinger's time was short. He crawled out of the cellar, and the family was still busy in the yard.
Seeing Kalinger come out, none of them asked "how is it?"
They knew exactly what that "thing" was in the cellar. Now it is silent, and the hunter came out wearing a blood-stained cloak, and everyone understood what happened just now.
Because of this, Mrs. Marlowe held her daughter and cried harder.
Kalinger shook his head helplessly. In this situation, he didn't bother to ask them why they lied during the day.
Why else? It was nothing more than a fluke... They must have discovered that something was wrong with Marlowe. Before Marlowe completely mutated, they always felt that he was "saved". They don't want the villagers to know that Marlowe may be infected, and they don't want the outside bounty hunters to kill Marlowe, who "has a glimmer of hope".
It's really stupid to say stupid, but it's useless to scold them now.
Kalinger patted the older boy on the shoulder: "Go to the doctor. Remember to explain your sister's injury clearly and let the doctor prepare accordingly."
The boy nodded and stood up wiping away his tears. The resident bard wanted to go with him, but Kalinger stopped him: "You don't have to follow, it's not that dangerous outside. You go find something like a tablecloth or sheet and cover the corpse in the cellar. This kind of corpse It emits a peculiar smell relatively quickly, and the smell is terrible. In the future, you'd better burn it. Now you definitely don't have time to burn it, so you should cover it up before you deal with it."
The poet showed fear, nodded aggrievedly, and walked slowly towards the house. Obviously he had no desire to be in charge of it, but if he didn't do it, neither would his aunt or cousin.
Finally, Kalinger squatted down to check the girl's condition, took out a small flat bottle, and handed it to Mrs. Marlowe: "This child is not in danger of life, don't be afraid. If she wakes up, you give her this Take a few sips to relieve the pain. Take small sips, just like drinking strong alcohol. Don’t drink too much, you will have side effects, dizziness, and maybe hallucinations. Just rest. People who are not injured don’t drink."
Mrs. Marlowe nodded, clutching the flask tightly.
Kalinger stood up, and the ten-year-old reached out and grabbed his cloak: "I'm sorry..."
"It's okay, don't be afraid."
He rubbed the child's head and walked out of the yard.
The street is not as dark as before. Several doors were thrown open, and firelight shone through the wooden windows. The movement just now must have awakened the neighbors nearby.
Marlowe's family tried hard to hide it for so long, and in the end it did not escape the tragic end, and the neighbors will still know the truth.
Kalinger thought that the same is true of the elf mages in the mountains. He's been hiding something, too.
I don't know what his worries are, and I don't know if his decision is correct.
Kalinger mounted his horse and hurried through the village. When he passed the field ridge, he looked sideways at the mountain where the Falling Moon Pagoda was located.
There is a faint cold light floating on the dark silhouette of the mountain top. It is not the splendor of the moon, but the magic lighting spread among the tree canopies.
=====================
At the same time, the rime once again left in front of the crystalline wall at the bottom of the tower.
He walked more slowly than before, moving his feet a little bit. It was hard to get back on the floating plate, because he was afraid that he would not be able to stand stably, so he had to sit down and let the floating plate rise.
Although he was unwell, he was in a good mood, and he was still humming a song while sitting on the floating disc.
The floating disc stops on the floor with the library. Rime's physical strength recovered a bit, and he was able to walk through the rows of bookshelves at least. He came to the end of the wall, sat down in front of the messy desk, took a long sigh of relief, and picked up the book that was upside down on the desk.
This book is a little different. Most of the books here are thick and large, the cover is protected by leather, and the text is mostly Elven language or arcane text specially used by mages, while the book in Wu Rime's hand is very thin, with a simple hard paper cover, and the texture is not too good. Ancient, the words on it are lingua franca: "Mastering Social Etiquette—Must Read for Popular Gentlemen and Ladies"
Rime opened the place I saw last time: