, said hello.
Right in front of his toes, there was a corpse of a dryad lying there curled up, and there was nothing wrong with it just by looking at it.
"Your Majesty, do you see anything special about this dryad?" The team leader had relatively more contact with Oswald on weekdays, and was not as afraid of him as others.
Oswald lowered his eyelids to take a look, then retracted his gaze in disgust, and said, "It's very ugly."
Leader: "..."
The young and handsome Emperor probably looks at himself too much on weekdays, and has always been insensitive to his appearance. He always thinks that he is not a superficial person and will not be fooled by a pretty face. But in fact, he is not very sensitive to his appearance just because his aesthetic starting point is a bit high——
In his eyes, people who are good-looking stay at the level of "personal appearance", those who stand out are at most mixed with the level of "able to see", and the rest of the people are basically hovering at the level of "not very good-looking" and "good-looking". Not even a human being." between.
Because the overall span is not large, it gave the emperor the illusion of "feeling more about connotation than appearance".
But this old dryad who was lying down really challenged Oswald's aesthetic limit, and he felt sorry for himself even if he took a second look.
The team leader coughed, pointed at the tree spirit with the tip of his sword, and said, "Your Majesty, take care."
As he spoke, he poked the dryad's body with the tip of his sword.
As a result, in the blink of an eye, the dryad who had maintained its dead appearance suddenly turned into a pile of dust mixed with dead branches and leaves, and the whole thing collapsed. It just so happened that a gust of wind from nowhere swept across, and the dryad was like dust in the forest, dispersed in the air.
"Cough—" Oswald frowned, and coughed twice with his fists pressed against his lips.
Compared with Kevin, who has been struggling on the battlefield all year round, Oswald can be regarded as a clean freak. Although he had little contact with his relatives and elders since he was a child, and he was locked up in the old manor and almost no one cared about him, but overall he lived a life of a young master, and with Ian, a housekeeper with obsessive-compulsive disorder who taught him every day, he just wanted to be careless are difficult.
He especially hates this kind of dusty things, but from the sand ghosts before to the tree branches now, one or two like to grind their own corpses into powder, which is really harmful to others.
He gave a "tsk" in disgust, raised his hand and waved twice, sweeping away the dust and cloud and said, "What's going on here?"
The team leader shook his head: "I don't know, there was one lying here earlier, and it was just broken up before I spoke to you."
"Give me the sword." With a sullen face, Oswald took the long sword from the leader and flicked it among the dead branches and leaves on the ground.
After the dust is scattered, these things are no different from ordinary dead leaves piled up on the ordinary forest floor, and they are brown-black because of the slight humidity.
The Ugin cavalry who were in charge of cleaning up the battlefield all encountered such a situation—after the corpses of the dryads had been left for a while, they changed as soon as they were touched, and became what Oswald and the others saw.
So that it didn't take long for the ground here to be covered with a thin layer of dead leaves, and the powder was submerged in the soil.
"I actually think this is what this place should look like." Nick couldn't help but said.
The crowd listened, neither laughed nor refuted, because they also felt the same way.
"The ashes of this thing are really unique..." Dan thought about the half of the red fruit he ate just now, and maybe he absorbed this kind of thing, and his face turned greener.
The little lion class pretended to be old-fashioned and patted him, saying earnestly: "It's been in your belly for a while, don't even think about it."
Dan: "..."
Those who are close to vermilion are red and those who are close to ink are black. He thinks that this kid has learned nothing else from that little white-faced commander. He first learned to chat, which is really great!
"What are these tree branches..." Oswald returned to the eaves, staring at the layer of dead leaves from a distance, and asked in a low voice.
Kevin shrugged, looking like he didn't quite know. However, after a short pause, he still opened his mouth and said, "You said... what might be the people who live next to the cemetery?"
Oswald thought for a while and said, "Gravekeeper?"
Kevin didn't speak.
His beautiful black eyeballs are covered with a layer of organic glass under the light of the worm sac, moist and translucent. Because of the slightly drooping eyes, the thick eyelashes cast a curved shadow under the lower eyelids, giving his eyes an extra layer of indescribable complex meaning.
Oswald gave him a strange look, and thought to himself, why does this look like he is about to die again. He thought that he had asked a question before, and the bastard arrested him.