"What... is this?"
The demon hunter took a deep breath, trying not to be captured by the fear before him, but his hand holding the hammer could not stop shaking slightly.
The evil sound became clear at this moment. It was not an obscure language, nor a deceitful song, but just hoarse and monotonous breathing.
The returning corpses pressed against each other, struggling to walk out of the gap, staggering and spreading black mist. They were originally dead corpses, but at this moment their chests were beating hard, pushing open the stuck trachea, allowing the turbid and hot air to seep in again.
They breathed, taking deep gulps of air, like drowning people, greedily enjoying the honey-like air.
As fresh air poured into their old lungs, they seemed to come alive again, and forbidden blood surged and stirred in their bodies, reaching a critical point.
Scarlet tracks bloomed under the gray skin, and bursts of blazing white flames ignited between the wounds on the body. They made whimpering sounds until they were completely engulfed by the flames, like an army marching out of a cemetery.
"Father..."
The witcher's words were tinged with fear. He could clearly feel the erosion from the revenants. The intensity was so high that it was almost like the witcher was out of control.
Or rather... they are demon hunters.
The bloody and dark history of the Demon Hunter Cult was now vaguely revealed in their eyes, and their eyes fell on Anthony, hoping that he could say or do something to calm the demon hunters' minds.
Anthony remained silent, he himself was in deep shock.
So many demon hunters who came back from the dead should have been forgotten forever, but now they have dug up their own graves and walked into the sunlight again.
In the enclosed room, a storm of corrosion arose, carrying with it high temperatures, almost pulling out and devouring the souls beneath people's bodies.
"Guard the gate of heaven."
Anthony slowly raised his sword, looked forward, and spoke in an unquestionable voice.
The demon hunters seemed a little hesitant, but still grasped their swords. Then another roar sounded, and Anthony's eyes rolled with blazing white, and the flames almost blinded the eyes.
"No matter who the other party is! Guard the gate of heaven."
The sound squeezed out from between Anthony's teeth. He looked hideous, and the scars on his face seemed to come alive, like a hideous centipede crawling on his body.
Anthony strode forward, with scorching flames clinging to the blade of his sword. He passed the other witchers and took the lead.
"Hold this place!"
I don’t know who made the first roar, but more roars followed, like a pack of hungry wolves, eager to tear their enemies to pieces.
The demon hunter was surrounded by the roar. He lowered his head slightly and saw his own reflection in the pool of blood.
He is not stupid, and he believes that others are not stupid either. Anthony's nonsense can't inspire them at all, nor can it convince them to die.
But if we don't move forward, what should we do? Run away
The witcher was in a daze. If he ran away, where could he escape to