Chapter 73: Cemetery

Near summer, the sunlight was fierce.

The traces left by the rainstorm pouring all night were melted into nothing under the sunlight's illumination in one morning.

Only occasionally the tiles blown down on the street by the fierce wind, and the grass sheds by the roadside collapsed by rainwater, vaguely showed the miserable scene from last night.

A silver-white robin lightly flapped its wings, flying over the dense and dilapidated housing area, revealing behind it the messy cemetery standing with countless stone tablets.

"Achoo!"

The halfling suddenly sneezed, rubbing his arms that had broken out in goosebumps, his tone carrying some complaint.

"Is this the place? Don't you usually manage it?"

The reason people in my previous life felt "gloomy and eerie" in cemeteries was largely because cemeteries were often built in open, remote areas, lacking vegetation, without tall buildings, allowing cold air to flow without obstruction, plus psychological factors under special circumstances.

But in this world right now, the suddenly dropping temperature in the cemetery might really be due to the negative energy suffusing and permeating the air.

In many densely populated large cities, there would even be related churches and specialized municipal organizations regularly inspecting and maintaining nearby cemeteries to prevent certain adverse situations from appearing.

Karanfor was just a small town on the kingdom's border. The only church in town worshipped "Amaunator," so naturally there wouldn't be such conditions.

Regarding Alton's nagging, some embarrassment couldn't help but appear on the sheriff's handsome, three-dimensional face.

Not knowing how to respond, he could only pretend not to hear and look around, searching for whether any suspicious traces existed in the surroundings.

I didn't really care about this.

In comparison, what I cared more about was the wooden sword 【Qingsong】 on my back that, after following me through the cemetery gate, had begun to slightly heat up.

I couldn't help being alert inwardly.

At the same time, I was even more satisfied with this blue quality weapon of mine.

Even if rarely used normally, just carrying it on my back was equivalent to bringing a sensing radar targeting undead spirits and serpent-scorpion type monsters.

Very useful.

When my strength gradually improved in the future and the wooden sword's strength couldn't keep up, perhaps I could still use its characteristics to create some convenient perception-type accessories to carry.

I wonder if its blazing sun damage could...

"Hey!"

The halfling's voice interrupted my fantasies about the future.

"Isn't there anyone nearby somewhat more familiar with the situation here?"

He asked the sheriff.

"There is, there is." Seeing the other party no longer focused on the cemetery's maintenance issues, Ingram's expression relaxed slightly as he nodded.

"I remember there's a gravedigger who's worked many years. He was already in town when I first came."

Speaking, he discerned directions and led the two of us toward the cemetery's depths.

......

This was an exceptionally dilapidated little wooden house.

The eaves corners were covered with cobwebs, the windowsill had a thick layer of dust.

Only from the footprints in the mud before the door, and the scattered garbage by the roadside, could you see traces of human life.

"Knock knock knock."

Ingram's burly and robust body stood on the steps before the door, lightly knocking on the door.

"Who!?"

From inside the house came a rather impatient male voice.

Accompanied by the sounds of tables and chairs moving and the floor scraping, slow and dawdling footsteps gradually approached.

Creak—

The wooden door slowly opened from inside to outside.

A gaunt old man in his seventies or eighties with a head full of white hair appeared behind the door.

"What do you..."

Suddenly catching sight of the sheriff before him, the gravedigger's originally gloomy and irritable expression suddenly paused.

A stiff smile squeezed onto his face:

"Respected Mr. Ingram, may I ask what you need me for?"

Without pleasantries, the sheriff went straight to the topic.

"A passerby reported seeing unclean things in the cemetery."

"You're the gravedigger. Did you discover any situation last night?"

I clearly noticed that when Ingram clarified his purpose, the old man's already bloodless face became even paler.

"Situation? No... nothing!"

As if his vital point had been struck, the gravedigger suddenly raised his tone, trembling as he replied.

"Last night, I went to sleep very early... very early. I don't know anything!"

I stood to the side, the corner of my mouth couldn't help twitching.

This "guilty conscience" manner of the gravedigger—even I, who had absolutely no interrogation experience, could tell at a glance something was wrong with him.

Ingram, having served as Karanfor's sheriff for many years, naturally also discovered the other party's abnormality.

His gaze unconsciously followed the old man's half-open wooden door, examining inside the house.

Bang—

But it was this one look that seemed to strike the other party's fatal weakness.

Like some kind of stress reaction, the gravedigger suddenly pushed the door.

Making the door opening outward hit the sheriff while his thin body ducked down, his entire person slipping out like a loach.

Looking at Xia Nan and the halfling blocking the doorway ahead, those turbid eyes immediately showed a fierce light.

Pulling out from his waist a dagger flashing with cold light, he suddenly stabbed!

The cemetery's unfamiliar environment and the heating wooden sword on my back kept me constantly vigilant.

Almost at the instant of the other party's movement, I reacted.

"Thud!"

The short dagger stabbed directly at the wooden sword's body, producing a slightly dull sound.

My brow furrowed slightly.

The gravedigger's stabbing speed was very slow, his force couldn't even compare to a goblin.

As if truly just an ordinary old man.

And 【Qingsong】, which I'd instinctively drawn due to the sword body heating up, facing the gravedigger's attack.

Although the sword hilt's temperature further increased, it didn't burst forth with the blazing "blazing sun" damage's flame light like last night.

Thoughts flashed through my mind.

Since the other party had already actively launched an attack at me, I had no possibility of holding back.

The combat skill book I'd painstakingly practiced many days was far from being practiced into a "combat skill," but it had also given me several techniques for responding to enemies.

My wrist gripping the sword hilt pressed down and twisted, feeling the friction between sword body and dagger.

Suddenly upward!

"Block and Upward Slash!"

Whoosh—

A brief, dense breaking-air sound rang in my ears.

Dark sword light flashed briefly.

"Ahhhhh!!!"

The withered hand gripping the short dagger, along with half a forearm, spun upward amid the reflection of glaring blood.

The intense pain of severed limbs almost made the gravedigger faint on the spot.

His figure staggered as if about to fall the next second.

But he maintained his body's center of gravity in the swaying.

His remaining left hand tremblingly pulled out a bone whistle from his chest.

Blowing it forcefully!

Tweet—

The sharp whistle sound instantly spread throughout the entire cemetery.

I held my sword wanting to pursue, but saw the gravedigger forcefully throw the bone whistle in his hand onto the ground before him.

"Snap."

The pale bone whistle fell on the moist, soft black soil surface, stained with a few mud spots.

Vibration.

Vibration transmitting from below.

Bang—

Mud stars mixed with broken stones splashed up.

A gaunt bone palm reflecting cold, sinister light suddenly extended from the muddy ground.

Five fingers together.

Tightly gripping the bone whistle in the palm.

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