"We had an avalanche and everyone died..."
The woman in the snow began to sob while talking, her sobbing was extremely terrifying in the dark night.
"They're all dead, and I'm the only one who came all the way here. Gentlemen, help me, my name is Lista Inard..."
The cold wind hit the face, leaving pain like a knife. That was definitely not an illusion, the lights of the train not far away were getting weaker and weaker, and the boundless darkness gradually wrapped in. Deeper in the darkness, there seems to be something more weird and dangerous hidden.
The sound of footsteps came from behind the woman, and another figure appeared further away. It was a brown-haired man with a backpack on his shoulders, his face was equally pale, and he staggered forward in this direction. He held a trekking pole in his right hand, and his left hand seemed to be broken, drooping abnormally, and there were some black blood stains on his face.
His hair was messed up as if it hadn't been washed for a long time, and half of the sleeves of the coat he wore were missing, as if they had been cut off in a hurry.
"Oh, God, thank you! Gentlemen, please help me, we encountered an avalanche, and I was the only one who survived. I have been wandering here for half a month, and finally found the train line!"
Compared with the woman just now, this man is more like a lunatic. His accent was extremely heavy, unlike the Nolan and Beldyland accents Jenkins was familiar with. Judging from the appearance, the appearance of the people in the eastern part of the Fidic Tri Kingdom is also a little strange, and it is very likely that they are ethnic minorities in the southern mountainous area.
The only similarity between him and that woman is that both of them have a strong black aura.
The man stumbled to the periphery of the oil lamp light, and accidentally fell into the snow. Panting heavily, he raised his head, brushed the snow off his hair indiscriminately, and saw the woman nearby at a glance.
"Lista Innard? Oh, God, aren't you dead? I saw you die in my arms!"
"Donald Severus? Oh, you were not given by the wolf to…"
The two cried out hysterically together, their voices echoing in the wind. Then he grabbed the snow and crawled in the opposite direction, shaking like he had Parkinson's.
"I think, I know what this is."
The gentleman standing opposite Jenkins said helplessly: "It's a very troublesome thing, I didn't expect to actually come across it, A-11-02-3046."
"I know too."
Jenkins' face trembled unconsciously. In fact, his heart trembled even more. Although the danger level of this monster was not the highest 1, it was actually more dangerous than anything he had encountered before.
He hadn't seen this kind of thing introduced in the church's materials, because the information itself had a certain quality of spiritual pollution. But when I talked with Miss Stuart in Loen City, I heard it from her.
"Victims in a Snowstorm."
He whispered, and Mr. Alexander nodded cautiously, not daring to take his eyes off the two of them.
A-11-02-3046, The Victim in the Blizzard, will only appear in Snowfields on Blizzard Days or similar, so it is more common in the northern kingdom of Tonhampawo. The number of individuals that appear varies from 2 to 5, and groups of more than 10 may even appear in extremely rare cases.
Instances of A-11-02-3046 will often claim to be part of a stricken group and insist that all other members are dead, thus causing severe repercussions for other simultaneous instances when an event occurs panic.
After encountering A-11-02-3046, if the encounterer does not lend a helping hand within a certain period of time, he will be directly killed by the wraith within; on the contrary, if he unfortunately helps the wraith, he will also be killed.
This kind of wraith is very powerful. According to the information provided by Miss Stuart, even an 8th-level gifter cannot deal with it.
The only way to survive is to identify the actual surviving individual in A-11-02-3046. The difference between a living person and that kind of powerful evil spirit is very small. It is not difficult if you have the special ability to identify spirit bodies, but if you don't, you can only rely on luck.
"Our luck should be pretty good..."
Mr. Alexander said in a low voice.
"Yes, there are only two people now, and we can at least have a 1/2 chance of choosing the right one."
"No, there have been situations where everyone was alive or even dead. Please be cautious. Although I can get the oil lamp for free after you die, I definitely don't want to deal with them alone."
He paused for a moment, then asked again: "Do you have any unique ability or items to identify spirit bodies?"
The Eye of Reality is indeed fine at a relatively short distance, but the problem now is that Jenkins dare not approach the two at all, and the safe distance is obviously limited by the light.
"No, How about you?"
"I do not have either… "
Alexander's tail sound dissipated in the snow, and the wind seemed to be louder, and the lights of the train appeared more and more blurred in the eyes of the two. The distance between the mountain and the car is getting farther and farther, but the darkness is gradually wrapping around.
There are more and more things wriggling in the dark depths, and there are occasional whispers and murmurs, as well as low-pitched laughter. If Miss Stuart's information is correct, then those things are the souls of innocent people who died in the incident of A-11-02-3046 over the countless years.
"Do you remember how long the time limit was?"
He whispered to the man standing opposite.
"19 minutes and 23 seconds, it could be 32 seconds, but I think we're going to go as soon as possible."
Alexander shouldn't be acting with Jenkins. The Bestowers are well aware of how dangerous these weird things that can be numbered are. And being able to live to level 6, he also knows what is the most important thing.
"You damn evil spirit, why are you entangled with me? Gentlemen, save me!"
The woman was still shouting, holding out her hand, hoping the two men would grab her.
"Gentlemen, she is the evil spirit. I remember very clearly that Inard died of freezing two months ago because of the low temperature. Damn it, did you, the evil spirit, come here because I used your corpse Come to fill your hunger? Give it back to you, let's go!"
He fumbled around in his clothes, and threw a few pieces of steamed bun-like jerky into the snow. The jerky smashed a few small holes in the snow, and the woman seemed to have not heard that sentence, still shouting hysterically.
PS: Why do you think that I want to write about Orient Express? Wouldn't that be copying someone else's stuff? (Cover face) But I also really like the detective novels in the Blizzard Mountain Villa mode. If there is a chance, I can consider (not necessarily) adding one or two branch lines. Anyway, the time of the story line is now winter.