Open Your Quest Log

A sneak is not something Barrett is good at. Fortunately, in this remote corner of this small town, there are not many undead.

Walking through the winding alleys and twisting the neck of a zombie who was curiously sticking its head out of the window; jumping over a crumbling rubble with broken walls, and cutting down two food that were scrambling for broken bodies on the rubble. ghoul; climbed up a low mottled wall again, and smashed a pale skeleton that was dazed under the wall and seemed to be thinking about life...

Barrett's "sneak" trip was very effective. At least the undead along the road were basically killed by him quickly, and it did not cause a large-scale commotion or trouble that was difficult to solve.

A church-like building along the way caught his attention, and Barrett stopped to watch, "Does this town still believe in a certain god?" Forget it.

On the road ahead, under a withered plane tree, stood a pale-faced female zombie. It was wearing a torn and faded white cloth long dress, its head was slightly tilted, and it stared blankly at Barritt running from a distance. It didn't growl, and it didn't have the urge to "kiss" it from up there, it just seemed to be looking at a fresh creature it had never seen in its life.

This is a quiet zombie, standing still under the tree like that, you can't tell which one is more a symbol of death between it and the dead tree, or there is no essential difference between the two.

Barrett slowed down, and the long sword that had been slashed was temporarily retracted. He kept looking at the zombie with a strange expression, and slowly approached.

Could it be that the "There is a certain probability to reduce the hostility of the undead" in the tombstone attribute finally took effect for the first time? Barrett stopped in front of the female zombie curiously and looked directly into the other's eyes.

It didn't have the aura of reason in its eyes like Zombie Daniel, but it didn't look deadly and crazy like other zombies. There is only confusion in its eyes, confusion that knows nothing.

"Hello," Barrett asked.

The other party did not respond, his eyes did not blink.

Barrett shrugged, "Goodbye then," and continued to run into the distance. But after taking a few steps, he turned back to the female zombie again. After looking at each other's heartbeats twice, he suddenly reached out and touched the face of the female zombie, and then ran away as if escaping.

"It hasn't been a long time since the last time I vented. How can you see a zombie with a beautiful face?" Barrett shook his head in doubt, and attributed it to the sequelae of the fierce battle.

Moving forward slowly, Barrett once again approached the circle of tall walls on the edge of the town. His route in the town is generally a semi-arc with a lot of jagged edges and rough edges. He himself is like an ant groping forward in a labyrinth, relying on his unreliable tentacles, looking for that little bit of honeydew in constant encounters and twists and turns.

There is a hill outside the wall, and an ancient wooden windmill seems to stand alone at the highest point of the hill. There is no wind in this sealed space, but the ancient windmill still turns half a circle from time to time.

However, this strange scene did not attract Barrett's attention, because at this time his ant had already found the drop of honeydew...

This is an ordinary masonry two-storey house, not significantly different from the buildings around it. Such houses abounded in the town, until a childish, soft child's voice suddenly came to Barrett's mind, making the house stand out from the other mysterious and profound buildings.

"My, home?" The boy's voice was initially uncertain.

"Are you asking me?" Barrett stopped in front of the house and looked around habitually. In this gray space like a black and white painting, it seems that only he himself contains color.

"My, home!" The voice in my head became a little happy.

"If you could be so excited before, maybe we could get here faster." Barrett reached out and grabbed the door handle and pulled it gently, but the door didn't move.

"...I didn't expect that the person who took you away had the good habit of locking the door." He walked towards the left side of the door, where there was a half-open window.

Barritt pushed the window open completely, looked inside with his head sideways, and found nothing unusual.

"To be honest, I don't want to see your parents here." He jumped into the house from the window. "The scene might be warmer, but it might not be very friendly."

The oak wood floor is "ravaged" by Baritone's leather boots, and emits a terrifying "scream" that makes one's teeth tickle.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure standing vaguely beside the main entrance, and he turned his head sharply to look.

It is a hanger.

On the hanger hung a long cotton dress, a linen coat, and a square silk shawl, which made Barrett clench his sword again.

The cabinet on one side of the room was opened, and the contents were scattered all over the place, including long knitting needles, a small half-knitted scarf, a few spools of thread, a coarse cloth hat, and a few bits and pieces of buttons and knitted trinkets.

Barrett stepped over the clutter and headed for the stairs. There are a lot of scratches on the walls along the road, and the marks are on the low side, like those left by children or dwarfs.

"My, home!!" The voice in my head came happily again.

"I know." Barrett went up the stairs. On the wall on one side of the stairs are two portraits of people, one of which shows a young couple, a man and a woman, holding a crying baby.

The painter's skills are quite deep, and the scenes of men and women coaxing and teasing babies, as well as the kind of doting on babies in their eyes, are vividly painted. It's just that this painting has basically faded under the erosion of negative energy, only the dark red on the woman's lips is still faint, and I don't know what dye the artist used at the beginning.

Another painting is of a single little girl, about 5 or 6 years old, with honey-colored hair that is neatly combed. She was wearing a plaid dress, standing in front of the house, holding a small flower basket in her hand, her lips were slightly pouted, and she was a little unhappy, it seemed that she was a little tired of maintaining a movement for a long time.

The artist of this painting is obviously not the same person as the previous painting. Because the painting style of this painting is too realistic, no one likes to engrave an angry look in the painting. The artist only needs to outline a few strokes, and the expressions of the characters will be very different, but the artist still chooses to paint it as it is. come out.

Walking up to the second floor, Barrett glanced outside through the window at the entrance of the stairs~www.readwn.com~ The moonlight in this sealed space is getting dimmer and dimmer. He probably hated the moonless word that Gordo said. The time will soon come. Fortunately, he has managed to find the building, and things should just have to wait.

The stairs on the second floor have two rooms on the left and one on the right. Outside the door to the inner room on the left, a plush cotton doll in the shape of an elf girl lay quietly on the ground, with a broken voice box lying beside it.

Barrett stepped forward, picked up the doll, and looked at it in his hand. One of the doll's elf long ears has been threaded, and only a trace of thread is left on the side of the head, dangling in the air, a bit miserable. He easily put the doll into the space ring. Then he walked to the door of this room, stopped and looked in.

A vertical wardrobe is attached to the wall, the cupboard is opened, and various children's clothes inside are scattered on the floor. Next to the wardrobe is a small single bed with plaid sheets.

The sheets were wrinkled, curled, and irregular, and one corner was still tucked into the cabinet beside the bed. A brass candlestick collapsed beside the bedside table, which fell towards a window facing the hill. A string of star-shaped wind chimes hangs on the upper edge of the window, and there is a square flower pot with a delicate shape on the window sill, but there are no plants growing in the pot.

At this moment, the ethereal and tender voice resounded from his mind again, "I'm back!" In addition to happiness, there were some other strange emotions in the voice.

Barrett found that the closer he got to this room, the more active the little Eve in the tombstone, and the more real and clear the emotion expressed.

There was nothing unusual in the room, but just as Barrett stepped on the door with his left foot, an ethereal wind bell suddenly sounded in this dark room, as if welcoming the return of its owner.

...