Krafft's Notes on Anomalies

Not quite right. It was understandable that there were no sentries before, but now they were standing at a distance where they could clearly see the dried food skewers in the window, and they hadn't found anyone alive yet. Not to mention secret whistles, there wasn't even one standing on a high place to show off.

This was completely contrary to their understanding of pagan ways of doing things. You must know that this is an organization that can even arrange an ambush for a smuggler. With the size of this village in the forest and the population, it is estimated that it will take at least a few years to build. It will also need to import some irreplaceable materials from the outside world, and it will be almost completely closed. It is the best missionary environment.

Like a hunter lost in the forest who strays into a mirage, a complete village jumps out from the background of dense trees and comes to the front.

An ominous silence settled among the buildings, and after the stopped team consciously stopped talking, it blended with the atmosphere in the forest and condensed into a dead silence confronting them, accompanied by a strong sense of being spied on from all directions.

The extremely quiet atmosphere made people dare not act rashly, and they were trapped in place as if they were trapped in an invisible swamp. Only their own slight breathing and heartbeat were beating while they concentrated and held their breath.

Until someone couldn't bear it and sneezed, breaking the deadlock. Although he tried his best to control it, the sound of air rushing out of his teeth still spread far in the forest, far enough to be heard by people in the village in such silence.

Nothing happened.

Everyone turned to the source of the sound and glared at the guy who was covering his mouth in fear.

But part of that depressing feeling did dissipate. Perhaps the only explanation is that there is no imaginary ambush here at all, it is simply that the group of pagans abandoned their stronghold and left?

"Sorry, I suddenly felt my nose was a little itchy." The perpetrator pinched the wings of his nose and covered his mouth with both hands in an attempt to prevent the physiological reaction. However, the itching on the mucous membrane seemed to be too strong to be suppressed, and the throat squirmed and he sneezed a second time, removing the scratch. Sensitive things spurt out.

"Keep your voice down, let's go in slowly." Martin waved his hand and ordered, directing the team to move forward.

"Ah... sneeze!"

Before he finished speaking, another sneeze sounded. He was about to scold the retinue for catching a cold at an untimely time, but found that he was not in the same position this time.

Turning around, I saw Kraft taking out a square black cloth, covering his mouth and nose, and tying it with a string at the back of his neck and head. More than one piece was prepared, and the extra was handed to Coop to put on.

Seeing Martin looking this way, he waved his hand to indicate that he was fine, "My nose feels a little uncomfortable."

In fact, it was more than that. He felt that the ubiquitous atmosphere was constantly touching his spirit, making his brain always in a slightly tipsy state for the past few days, and a bit of the heavy, dizzy synaesthesia of being sick and having a fever was fed back to his body.

Just now, an unexpected burst of nasopharyngeal itching triggered the reflex of the respiratory tract to expel foreign matter. It was still very strong, as if wind covered with dust entered the nostrils.

【dust】

The empty and silent space, and the smell of dust from the pavement, brought my memory back to the corridor of the Rivers University night banquet, and I stood in front of the door that did not block anything.

The ripples in my mind were still swaying, and the vague concepts like ripples became clearer as I approached this place, to be precise, after the sneeze.

He now felt that it was more like... a wheat field blown by the wind, swaying and rippled, but much thinner and shorter, densely arranged together, and covered with a furry blanket on every inch of the place that could be blown by the air current.

"Something's not right. Try to stand where others can see you later, and don't walk away alone."

Craft drew his sword and moved closer to Martin, and as the column advanced, Coop followed him behind, guarding the flanks.

The retinue carrying the shield followed the knight at the front, bending down and hiding his body behind the shield as much as possible. The crossbowman was at the edge of the woods preparing to counterattack the enemy who would appear.

After leaving the cover of the trees, they began to accelerate, rushing through a small open space that lacked cover, and arrived at the outermost circle of buildings in the village. They climbed over the fence and leaned against the wall of the house. They reached the blind spots of the small windows that could be used as shooting holes and listened to the inside. Activity.

Ordinary people who have not received special training will probably be at a loss when faced with such a posture. They will not know where to aim, blindly shoot arrows or drop their weapons and run away, let alone a close encounter.

However, the tense and orderly movements turned into a one-man mime, and no arrows were shot from the dark to match their wonderful performance.

There was no sound of movement in the house, nor was there any nervous breathing. After they stopped moving, the thick silence enveloped them naturally. The village remained silent, indifferently not reacting to the intruders.

Barrow left the protection of his retinue, and before Martin could say anything to stop him, he kicked open the door closest to him. The door, which was no better than a piece of wood, flew out and hit the dusty house.

The introduced sunlight appeared in the dust, and the light beam illuminated the vague human figure sitting at the table, with its back to the door defenselessly.

The retinue followed closely, reflexively raised his shield and threw his axe, and then drew his dagger to guard the parts of the house that were still in shadow.

The back figure waited indifferently for the missile to arrive. It cut through the shoulder blade without any obstruction, shattering a whole piece of bone and soft and brittle objects. The impact caused the unbalanced chair to fall, raising another cloud of flying dust.

"What happened?" Mistaking the discovery of the resisters, Martin and Kraft quickly caught up.

"Ahem!" Barrow lifted his visor, coughed and exited the room, "It's nothing, you can see for yourselves. If this is the case, I guess we don't have any physical work to do here."

A sitting "flower stand" covered with brightly colored mushrooms fell into the dust. The smooth fungi clustered like a crown were covered with dust, and a throwing ax with good accuracy was embedded in the shoulder.

"It seems like your people are quite good at this?" Martin put down his sword and breathed a sigh of relief. He almost thought that there were some new traps in the room, and new things often meant trial and error.

The flying dust settled down, and the guard who threw the ax carefully looked at the remaining parts of the small space in the room, hiding his embarrassment in nervously taking action.

"One step faster is better than one step slower, but don't use this ax again." Patting him on the shoulder, Martin stopped him from using the ax that was mostly submerged in the mushroom bushes. "What's your name?"

"Bright, Bright Ray, Knight Barrow's squire."

"Very well, Brett, you are responsible for keeping vigil today. I hope the night breeze can make you calmer. You won't distinguish between friend and foe after you let go of something."

A false alarm is no big deal. Considering that the other party was from Barrow and had a last name, Martin did not intend to delve into the other party's momentary mistakes. He only symbolically ordered him to stay vigil and reflect, "Open a few more rooms and see if you can find anything. Don't leave alone."

"Professor, what are you looking at?"

"Nothing." Kraft shook his head and looked away from the sitting corpse. Its posture is very special. It is not sitting normally, but sitting backwards, with its hands lying on the back of the chair. It raises its head as if it is drowning and suffocating. A handful of yellow mushrooms with finger-like stipes grow from the empty eye sockets and mouth. Come out and hold up the layered umbrella cover like a mask.

Due to the growth and fusion of the fungus, it completely grew together with the chair, so that it still maintained this posture after falling down.

The sitting position is a position commonly seen in patients with heart failure and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease who are forced to adopt a position when they have difficulty breathing to relieve symptoms.

Kraft tried to recreate the scene. At that time, he was experiencing an attack, and he probably woke up during his sleep at night and wanted to sit for a while to relieve the feeling of suffocation through this accidentally discovered position.

Generally speaking, this is true.

But now that I've seen it here, it just didn't work. Some factor killed it at this time, and it was not respiratory disease or heart failure. It should not have been so fast and it still retained this posture. Before he could change his posture, he was frozen in suffocation.

"It's really scary. Let's go and see the others." He couldn't say anything about resting in peace. He must have died less peacefully. Kraft looked around the room and saw, as expected, a ring hanging on the wall without wings.

Houses were opened one after another, and inside were fungal growth bases of different shapes. The clothes they wore during their lifetimes had disappeared, but after their deaths, they were all covered with colorful appearances that exceeded human aesthetics, making those who witnessed them look at each body in a different way. You can find a variety of experiences ranging from terrifying to amazing.

The strange and beautiful experiences impact the consciousness of living people, even the boundaries of fear and wonder, making people ignore their essence at certain times, as if they have entered an unprecedented grand celebration, and the guests are all dressed in trousers. Qi, bold and novel style.

There were also many open doors with their owners missing. Craft passed through the low cottages in the lanes and found them on the main road leading directly to the main entrance of the central church.

A gorgeous road.

Barrow and his followers, who arrived first, were stunned by the dazzling colors. It was like the stained glass of a rose window, which was ten times or a hundred times richer. It was broken into small and large pieces and melted on the ground. It was like a scripture painted with ore dye. It grows from the soil and is painted in front of the stone steps of the church where the perfect circle symbol is hung.

Those colorful human figures have melted into the exuberant fungus clusters, and it is impossible to tell whether they are believers making a pilgrimage to the end of the road or going together for a feast. The thick, coronally open gills grow at high places, resembling a grooved corolla.

For those who were shocked, it was more than just disgusting and frightening. They were even more frightened that they did not feel that this scene was disgusting, as if this was a natural cycle that should be taken for granted and the embodiment of some worshipable power. Advent.

"Lord..." Barrow's sword fell to his side, and this brave knight who sometimes seemed reckless retreated for the first time.

Martin, who had seen the autopsy scene, performed better. He was just stunned for a while in disbelief and recovered from the shock.

"You're right, Professor, sooner or later, those who are exposed to these things will swallow the bitter fruits they sow." He retreated to the alley and wiped off the mushroom fragments on his shoes. "Since they have reaped the consequences, we should not continue to stay here." this."

The intention to retreat is palpable.

Those who can understand this idea, that the scene is too exciting for normal people, but in fact have not lost order at this point, can indeed be regarded as an elite division.

"But..." Kraft glanced at the church. The ring mark is fixed on the wall that seems to have been deliberately cracked. It is undoubtedly the core of the pagan village. Maybe there are some useful clues to solve the mystery.

However, this is really not the time. Even Barrow and Martin are shaken. The others may have an emotional breakdown soon. If they insist on entering now, something will happen.

"Let's retreat to camp far away and collect some firewood." It was getting late, and Kraft didn't think it would be a good idea to go deep alone at this time. "If there is no other way, we will burn it all."