Stray

Chapter 71: Night of the Bone Sand Tower

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The sun finally sank in the sky, and they had been traveling for a whole day.

The temperature has dropped, but it's a pity that it dropped a little too far. Oliver rubbed his hands together and exhaled a faint white mist. In order to prevent Adrian's bow from poking in another direction, he still kept his back straight. Nemo feels a lot more at ease, he is not very afraid of cold himself, and his physique is strengthened even more like a duck in water. He didn't even bother to add a coat to himself, and generously gave his share to Oliver beside him.

That thing still followed them.

"Bone-knot lizard, middle-level demon." The knight commander explained succinctly. "It's only left out, probably interested in Mr. Wright."

"This thing is a middle-level demon?" Nemo's impression of the middle-level demon was still on the terrifying deadwood jellyfish. He turned around in surprise, and glanced at the small thing that was still following them - its size and size The Fuller Goat was not far behind, walking swaying, full of the weakness of a lower-level demon.

"In terms of classification, yes. Their spell system belongs to abyss magic." Adrian glanced at the knuckle lizard without any intention of doing it. "They're not weak when they move in groups, but they're very docile and generally don't hurt people."

"You're not religious." Jesse Dylan buttoned his jacket and sighed into his hands. "That's the devil! Aren't you going to destroy it, Mr. Knight Commander?"

"It's alive and well, doing nothing. I have no reason to move it."

"… You are really very ungodly."

"This is one of the reasons why I was fired." Adrian said seriously, looking at the blond youth with a little surprise. "I thought you knew?"

"Don't you feel heartache when you pray?"

"No." The knight commander shrugged. "The teachings are written by people, and I'm a person too—I have a brain of my own."

"Oh, that's good, it looks like I still have a chance." Jesse Dillon teased, "Looks like you won't decisively reject the love of an atheist."

"Of course, if I love her too," Adrian replied calmly. "She," he emphasized.

"I don't mind pretending to be—"

"I don't think that's what I'm interested in, Mr. Cross." In order to prevent the conversation from going in a more unpredictable direction, Nemo coughed dryly and stopped. He hesitated for a few seconds, and then approached the knuckle lizard again—it turned over quickly, its feet turned upside down, and it turned faster than a weaver's spindle. "I think it's... uh, playing dead."

He reached out and scratched the lizard's belly, and it stopped breathing.

"They are very sensitive to magic, and their IQ is not much lower than that of humans." The knight commander stopped, "It must have its purpose, but at least so far, I don't feel any malice."

Oliver wrapped his two coats tightly, and he also got close to the lizard - not Nemo's illusion this time, the thing moved carefully in Oliver's direction, even pressing the bone-like carapace to his hand , and rubbed it twice to please.

"..." Nemo gasped, "I remember I was the Demon Warlock?"

"Let's name it?" Oliver said with emotion, patting its shell. "I don't think it wants to go."

"Is your hobby..." Nemo hesitated.

"It reminds me of an 'old friend'." Oliver smiled and patted the lizard's bone shell twice.

"Bone broth," Nemo suggested unkindly. "How about this name?"

"... White II." Oliver responded sincerely, "It feels a little more handsome."

"I'm a little curious about the name of your former 'deceased'." Nemo muttered softly. The four small eyes of the bony lizard that received its name shone even closer to Oliver. Like Nemo's going to boil it down to soup in the next second.

The sky was completely dark, and the stars were as clear as the holes poked by the tip of a needle. The last trace of heat left by the sun has also dissipated cleanly, and the winter-like cold has replaced the suffocating heat during the day. Fortunately, the air is dry, and the cold is not too hard.

"Oh, I call it Mr. White." Oliver breathed out the white mist again, this time it was a little thicker. "But it's a real bone, a little smaller than this thing. Everyone has an imaginary friend or two when they're kids. I just found a more specific one."

"If it goes well this time, I might be able to remember my 'imaginary friend' as well." Nemo decided to divert the topic away from Oliver's hobbies. Oliver Ramon may be a little more nasty than he thought. Son. "Seriously, do you want to keep this thing?"

"It's nice to be a traveling companion, too," said Oliver, finally taking his hand off the skeleton. "At least it's smart, isn't it? It should know better than us about this shit."

It turned out to be so.

The freshly-baked White II ran to Oliver's other side to stay away from Nemo. It walked in an orderly manner by the side, and even the speed of its travel did not change very much. Occasionally, it stopped, poked its tongue warily, and steered them away from suspicious spots—once Oliver was even dragged down by it, before a large lamprey-like mouth bit him where he had been. position, making a tingling sound that made the scalp numb.

"Its fighting consciousness may be higher than yours combined." Ann sighed, watching Nemo lift the disgraced Oliver out of the sand. "Although I don't like too many demons crammed into a group... that's all."

She glanced at White II again: "Like a piece of white bread with feet."

After she finished speaking, she took out a piece of jerky from her pocket, stared at it and gnawed it, as if she was going to take it for dinner. White II was shocked, and his steps were getting faster and faster.

They arrived at the grotesque white towers at midnight. Only after getting closer did Nemo see what it really looked like—it really wasn't man-made. Several towers are crooked, at least as thick as ten people hug each other, and the whole is made of various kinds of bones. The yellow sand is mixed with mucus, and the bones from different animals are firmly glued together. Countless "spines" are entwined on the tower, and there are a few terrifying strands.

Habitat of knuckle lizards.

White II did not join the ranks of the same kind, and he lay down obediently by the lit bonfire, his tail coiled in a full circle around the carapace. The other skeletal lizards made no sign of their presence either, and continued to crawl around the skeletal tower as if they were just a few tumbleweeds.

"Their towers can withstand storms, and they are often next to fresh water. I think Mr. Ramon has probably discovered it. It's easier for you to cast spells here." Seeing that Nemo and Oliver were still looking around, the knight commander explained patiently. "Bone-knotted lizards only eat stones - they generally don't attack other creatures as long as they don't destroy their towers."

"It's a bit strange." An put his hands close to the flames, "There shouldn't be a source of water in such a ghost place."

"Probably man-made." Jesse yawned and interjected naturally. "As long as the magic is strong enough, a water source can be created anywhere."

Nemo: "So here they are... circling? Doing nothing but drinking water?"

"They're on vacation, after all, their king isn't there." Seeing someone answering the call, Jesse held back the next yawn. "Otherwise they wouldn't be so... sloppy. The lizard colony usually has a leader, the smartest one. It will direct these things to expand the ossuary and expand the territory." He touched the tower behind him, not minding the pile at all. source of bones. "...and these don't look like they've been expanded in a long time."

"Perhaps their king was killed by someone." The grey parrot flew in the air with high spirits. "Humans are always like this. They hunt anything with long legs."

"Then there will be a new king." Jesse grinned. "Their king is definitely still alive."

The blond youth looked meaningfully at the center surrounded by the tower—the direction of the thickest vapor.

"It's a pity that we didn't have an interpreter this time." Oliver shivered in the increasingly cold air, wishing he could sit in the fire. He raised an eyebrow at Nemo. "Otherwise we might be able to chat with them and share our thoughts on 'vacation'."

"We're not on vacation at all." Nemo murmured bitterly, recalling the day's battle.

Now his stomach was stuffed with fresh cacti and dried meat, and the knuckle lizards crawled slowly up the tower, rustling with extreme regularity, like the seconds of a clock. Mixed with the sound of the bonfire burning, the movement made Nemo's eyelids a little heavy. He wrapped the blanket around him casually, unexpectedly not feeling the cold.

He squinted slightly—everything was blurry under the envelope of darkness. He was somewhat familiar with the feeling.

As a result, Nemo was just drowsy when he was woken up by Oliver, who was trying to suppress his shivering. They didn't bring much clothes, and they were dressed in summer weather. And no one actually sleeps close to a campfire.

Fine. Nemo sighed in his heart, and it would be hypocritical to care about some things at this time.

"Come here and give me your hand," he said softly, and went out with half of the blanket. "I'm not very afraid of the cold."

Oliver stared at him silently, his expression a little blurry in the flickering firelight - after about half a minute, he carefully removed the scabbard from his belt and slowly came over. Nemo wrapped his hands around each other's hands, startled by how cold they were.

"Ah, thanks a lot," Oliver muttered, wrapped tightly in the blanket. "Don't watch me use ice... I hate winter."

"I kind of like it." Nemo didn't look at each other's face, he stared at the burning campfire. “Spring and fall are good too... Summer is a bit...”

White II hesitantly leaned closer, and made another coil next to Oliver. Oliver's hands weren't so cold anymore, and Nemo, overwhelmed with sleepiness again, gave up the conversation and let his consciousness drift away.

Everything is familiar, he thought dazedly. This darkness, this temperature, and that sentence.

"I hate winter."

A vague voice sounded in the deepest part of his mind, fragmented and indistinct.

"…I hate winter, Mr. White."

,Wonderful!

(m.. = )