Alcazaba is the name of the castle on the top of the inner mountain in this port city.
The undead dug down the mountain at the bottom of the castle and built the infamous "Crypt of Sorrow". It is said that there are a large number of prison cells, punishment houses and torture rooms underground, which are used to torture human prisoners of war transported from the La Mancha Plateau in the north.
Since the vengeful spirits themselves must be born from the corpses of humans who have suffered painful torture before death, residents often hear bursts of horrific screams at night around the Mourning Palace; and every week, a large number of corpses are transported out of the castle, pushed directly to the seaside and dumped.
Of course, the reason why vengeful spirits are produced in large quantities is simply because of the hobby of the vengeful demigod in the underground palace.
The birth of many specific undead races often has special conditions and requirements for corpses. For example, a banshee must be a female corpse, so it only takes a female transcendent to kill her, and the impact on the public is not that great.
The conditions for the birth of vengeful spirits were quite harsh, so the citizens were terrified and there were unfounded rumors everywhere, such as "they would randomly capture people on the street and torture them", which led to a period of time when no one dared to go out. Even if they went out, they would do it secretly, for fear of being seen by the undead.
Eleanor, with her face covered, sat silently in the tavern, listening to everyone's depressing conversation, and she couldn't help feeling an irrepressible sadness in her heart.
She originally thought that the most damaging thing war could do to human beings was to kill each other on the battlefield for an illusory victory, but she never imagined that humans would one day become material, being "processed" wantonly and cruelly by the undead for their own purposes...
In the past, she would have been so angry that she couldn't control herself. But now she already knew that simply drawing the sword wouldn't change anything.
The war was caused by the invasion launched by the Kingdom of the Dead in Iberia.
What she really wants to do is to end this war.
Medea sat opposite her, drinking leisurely and observing the expression on Eleanor's face calmly.
"Aren't you angry?" she suddenly whispered.
"Anger doesn't have to be shown on your face," Eleanor replied calmly.
"Yes." Medea turned her head slightly, "He's here, keep an eye on the surroundings for me."
Eleanor nodded imperceptibly, and the mist of her will spread, soon covering the entire tavern invisibly.
She was able to grasp every detail of everyone's words, the slight movements of their faces, and the small movements under the table. The detection range continued to expand and soon spread to the street in front of the tavern.
Even the invisible banshee flying over the street could not escape her detection range. If there were undead approaching here quietly, she would be able to detect it immediately.
Medea stood up, her charming face hidden by the hood, leaving only a strand of burgundy hair hanging from the edge, playfully curled.
Although her face was not visible, the seductive curves of her body that were faintly visible under her robe immediately attracted the attention of many drinkers.
Douglas, who had just sat down at the table, was one of them. He was a slave trader who had recently sold a batch of human prisoners of war from the northern La Mancha Plateau in the city. Although he had seen tens of thousands of women, this was the first time he had seen such a beauty.