Chapter 55

Headmaster Aiwen of the Demon King Academy is indeed as wise as a god; the citizens of Lei Ming City are indeed soft-footed shrimp.

Following Sheriff Adlai, Mr. Jack of the underground street also grasped the future.

Moreover, this one didn't seem to use much of his own effort? He suddenly attained enlightenment.

Luo Yan couldn't help but suspect, is his hidden attribute charm value actually extremely high?

No.

This doesn't seem to be anything to doubt.

In short, Luo Yan is quite satisfied with his work, although it is far from time to be complacent.

The top priority is to recover the first layer of the labyrinth as soon as possible, and the best window for the decisive battle with the four-legged snakes is three days later.

According to his calculations, by then there will be exactly 100 or more players who have rushed to Black Iron!

After training in the labyrinth, these players are enough to form effective combat power!

Not only that, as long as the net profit of faith value within three days is kept above 1000, he will be able to explode another wave of cannon fodder troops by then!

As for now, he has to practice the Dragon Language he just learned and master a few more surprise trump cards...

In late autumn, the weather is cool and refreshing, and the outskirts of Yinsong Town are a brilliant golden yellow.

The busiest season of the year has just passed, and the festival to celebrate the harvest is about to come; people's tense faces finally have a trace of a smile, and there is also a bit more gratitude when praying to the statues.

Praise Saint Xisi.

Praise the omnipotent Emperor.

Thanks to the holy light shining on the world, the wheat can fill the granary, the grapevines can be covered with fruits, newborns can be born, and Yinsong Town can enjoy peace and tranquility.

If there were no Demon King, presumably this fertile land would be even closer to heaven.

Carrying a hoe covered in mud, Old Abel walked from a piece of golden land to another piece of muddy land full of potholes.

Seventy percent of the wheat fields in Yinsong Town belong to the Baron, thirty percent to the church, and only those scattered vegetable fields truly belong to the local farmers themselves, so Old Abel is also extra attentive to those green little cuties.

Every time he finishes working on the lord's territory, he comes here to spend a while with his little darlings, looking forward to the scene of sitting in front of the fireplace with his family and enjoying delicious pumpkin porridge.

That is a happiness that adventurers will never experience.

He feels incomparably proud and honored by this.

Therefore, when his youngest son said stupid things like "I want to become a great adventurer when I grow up," he didn't say a word and beat his butt swollen with a leather belt.

What's wrong with being anything else?

Why insist on being that kind of guy who has the life to earn money but not the life to spend it; who knows when they will rot in a corner of the labyrinth without anyone knowing.

Regarding the bad aspects of adventurers, he could talk for three days and three nights without stopping.

However, since last night, he suddenly didn't have so much confidence anymore.

Eight hundred people died in the labyrinth, including his neighbor.

The lord didn't even look at them, and only the merciful priest gave those poor families a little compensation.

Only at this time would Abel think deeply; although adventurer is not a good profession, being a tenant farmer for the lord might not necessarily be considered very good either...

At this time, movement suddenly came from the edge of the farmland in the distance; the fence stuck in the ridge seemed to have been knocked down by something, making a rustling sound.

Abel, who was taking care of the vegetable garden, immediately became alert and gripped the hoe in his hand.

"Damn it... it's probably wild boars again!"

This thing is not something a hoe can deal with.

He cursed in his mouth, quickly turned around and returned to the wooden house next to him, took out a flintlock gun, hurriedly loaded it, and then trotted to the direction where the movement came from.

"Get out! You beast stealing pumpkins!"

To prevent it from being the neighbor's child making trouble, he didn't shoot first, but shouted to try to scare the prey out.

Seeming to hear his voice, there was a rustling commotion in the field, but a figure stood out.

Seeing that man in a cloak, Abel was slightly stunned.

Although the fact that the other party wasn't carrying a pumpkin made his temper ease slightly, seeing this refugee-like attire, he still couldn't show much goodwill.

"Hey! I'm talking to you! What are you doing here? Sneaky!"

Refugees are different from adventurers.

The latter, although they don't have a proper job, are at least registered, and unless they are really out of money, they wouldn't steal things from farmers. But the former is different; they usually eat wherever they go, and there might even be unclean demons mixed in the team.

If he isn't tough, the other party is very likely to think he is easy to bully and stay here without leaving.

Especially those guys with cat ears, rabbit ears, and bear ears; anyway, they are not good things.

That person didn't answer, just turned around silently and faced him.

The moment he saw the face under the cloak, Abel was stunned, and then it was as if he had seen a ghost—

No!

That was exactly it!

"Undead! Undead!!!"

He screamed, threw away the musket in his hand, and ran towards the town, crawling and rolling; because he ran too hurriedly, the two shoes he was wearing on his feet were lost.

Watching the farmer's retreating figure, Ye Zhiqiu looked down at Hu Wan beside him.

"I thought he was telling me to lift my face just now... by the way, am I that scary?"

Hu Wan, who was blocked by the fence, had a subtle look in his eyes.

"It's okay... think about me, and you'll be content."

Less than one meter tall.

Not only are his WeChat steps twice as many as others, but a slightly higher cover can block his view completely.

He has already begun to regret choosing this broken race.

Next time he is reincarnated, he should change to another one...

The two originally just came to see what human towns look like, whether they are high-rise buildings or bungalows everywhere; they didn't expect to scare the other party half to death as soon as they met.

But then again, this game is made too realistically; the crops are not textures, but really grow according to the solar terms in reality!

If he weren't wearing VR glasses, he would have suspected whether he had traveled through time...

This place is not suitable for staying long.

Ye Zhiqiu stepped forward, found a pair of shoes to wear, threw the musket to Hu Wan, and the two skeletons, one tall and one short, hurriedly left the crime scene.

The NPCs of the hostile camp are not very friendly, and there are no subtitles embedded in the game.

Before they can communicate, they'd better stay as far away from human towns as possible...

Ye Zhiqiu and Hu Wan patted their butts and went to the swamp and coastline in the southwest, but the commotion they caused stirred up a thousand waves.

A skeleton wearing clothes appeared in the suburbs; for the residents of Yinsong Town who had witnessed the undead at the labyrinth entrance not long ago, it was hard not to irritate their sensitive nerves.

Especially since the militia group had suffered heavy losses recently, and the town's defensive forces were quite empty.

Not long after the two players left, the militia on duty nearby rushed to the scene.

Looking at the farmland that didn't seem to have suffered any losses, Hebaer, who had just been hurriedly promoted to the position of captain, patted Abel's shoulder comfortingly.

"Brother, you are lucky; you only lost a pair of shoes. The last time I lost a shield... by the way, did you see my shield from them?"

Old Abel, with a dirty face, shook his head, his mood indescribably bad.

He didn't just lose a pair of shoes, but also a musket that the lord had placed here.

However, as long as the reason is explained clearly and the weapon was indeed lost while defending the farmland, the lord wouldn't make him pay for it.

Only those shoes were his own.

"No."

"No... then it seems it's not the same one." Hebaer scratched the back of his head, gestured to the new recruits behind him, and took the farmer back to the guard post to make a record.

This is a necessary procedure.

Although he also knew that expecting reliable news from an old farmer's mouth is not as good as expecting adventurers to save money to buy a house.

In short, under Old Abel's blushing and red-nosed description, the nearby guard post finally figured out the shape of that skeleton.

Ferocious!

Insidious!

And cunning!

Simply like a minion of the Demon King!

Old Abel used all his strength to use all the vocabulary he could imagine for demons in his life.

After all, losing shoes is a small matter, but being scared out of your shoes by an ordinary undead is a lifelong shame.

The news was quickly reported layer by layer.

Finally, the news reached the ears of Sheriff Adlai, and the skeleton wearing clothes unexpectedly became a lich wearing clothes.

Adlai, sitting at the desk, rubbed his chin with his index finger, his eyes casually scanning the several trembling subordinates in the office.

Lich...

Should be that lord's servant, right?

If that's the case, there's nothing to worry about.

Whether it's his mentality or his stance, sitting here, he is no longer the same person he was before.

Throwing the report into the drawer, Adlai yawned and said casually.

"What's the big deal? An old farmer saw an undead; it's no big deal, everyone disperse."

"No, no big deal?!"

Hebaer, standing in front of the desk, looked at his boss in surprise, wondering to himself that he didn't see him in the tavern yesterday...

How come he looks like he drank more than himself.

Looking at this ignorant guy, Adlai curled his lips in disdain.

"It's just an undead; do you think an old farmer can recognize what a lich is? I haven't even seen that thing myself... I bet the smartest undead he has seen in his life is probably his dead father who couldn't afford to be buried."

Several captains looked at each other, and one of them whispered.

"But, sir... he even swore to Saint Xisi, saying that the undead was indeed wearing clothes, and it seemed to be bed sheets and curtains torn from somewhere. Obviously, this is definitely not the attire he had before he died—"

"Obviously, it's some unlucky refugee who died and then became an undead because he had a guilty conscience."

Adlai waved his hand impatiently, dismissing the suspicious conjecture.

"Alright, if I say it's a small matter, it's a small matter! I will talk to Priest Mate in a while... and the Adventurer's Guild, this should be no problem, right?"

If it weren't for the heavy losses in the previous battle, he really wouldn't want to promote these guys who have no vision.

Or...

Next time, ask Lord Demon King for a few ghouls.

Not just the church, he also wants to insert a few obedient guys into the militia.

Hmm.

If possible, arrange a few in the town hall as well.

Seeing that the boss said so, several captains looked at each other and finally could only nod reluctantly.

Pacifying the undead is indeed the work of a priest.

Although I don't know why the boss suddenly became so calm, it seems this is the only way...