91: Hidden Undead

I went upstairs to get my cloak, put it on, and went out. The cold wind mixed with snowflakes assailed my face.

I originally thought that in the civilized society of this world, even though it was a rural area in the distant suburbs, it would at least not be like solving things in the wilderness these past few days.

Who knew! It was freezing cold.

The snow crunched under my boots as I squatted among the snowdrifts behind the farmhouse.

The Qiankun Ring's energy layer transformed into a translucent bell-shaped cover, its outer texture perfectly blending with the surrounding snowy ground—from the outside, it looked nothing more than a snowdrift ruffled by the wind.

"This is much better than being out in the open," I muttered, adjusting the curvature of the energy shield. Snowflakes carried by the cold wind made a soft rustling sound as they hit the top of the shield.

Although the energy layer couldn't raise the internal temperature, with the cold wind unable to blow in, it wasn't as cold.

This was another ingenious use of the Qiankun Ring that I had discovered a few days ago.

After my stomach felt comfortable, just as I was about to get up, I suddenly saw the old farmer's granddaughter, Eileen, slip out the back door barefoot, her wool shawl dragging loosely behind her.

Under the dim moonlight, she moved like a flickering phantom, heading straight towards the south side of the village.

It was so late, where was this little girl going?

I watched her stop in front of the fifth wooden house.

The moment the door opened, the warm yellow light revealed the cloth doll in her arms—the unthreaded button of its right eye had been fixed at some point, and now it gleamed with an eerie, glazed light.

As soon as I crept back to the attic, the Dragon King's mental fluctuations transmitted a message—something had happened at the fifth wooden house.

I woke up my companions in the room. Randall gripped his sword hilt almost the instant he opened his eyes.

"The Dragon King sent word there's a situation. We need to go check it out," I said.

The old farmer came out with us, carrying an oil lamp. After I told him I saw Eileen leave, he was anxious to find his granddaughter.

The three of us and one dragon walked south through the ankle-deep snow.

"Bang, bang, bang..."

The old farmer pounded on the door of the fifth wooden house, making a tremendous racket.

"Did Eileen come here just now?" The old farmer shouted inside the moment the door opened.

The woman who opened the door rubbed her sleepy eyes, "Eileen? I haven't seen her today."

"The smell of blood!" Before the woman could finish speaking, Randall suddenly pushed her aside and rushed into the house.

Upstairs in the guest room, an Amn merchant who was staying there lay on the ground.

Randall discovered two small holes in his throat, from which blood was slowly seeping, and a strange smile was frozen on his lips.

"It's a vampire!" Randall said, frowning.

"morning light lord!" The old farmer's oil lamp fell to the ground, and the lamp oil ignited in the pool of blood, burning with a faint blue flame.

"I'll go downstairs and cast a sensing spell," I said to Randall.

Returning to the main entrance on the first floor, I began to cast Original Consciousness.

Adjusting my breathing, I suddenly opened my eyes, which gleamed with light. I extended my finger and gently waved it, outlining an invisible circle in the air.

Then, a subtle power spread out from me, instantly covering the village within a one-mile radius.

In this environment, I could only sense that far.

It's an Undead Creature! A powerful Undead Creature.

I continued sensing until the spell ended, with no other information.

Randall came to my side, and I told him that the only information I got from this spell was:

Within a one-mile radius, there is a powerful Undead Creature, location unknown! Quantity unknown!

Randall's divine spell had a similar effect to my magic.

Amidst the old farmer's wails of grief, we stood in the middle of the road, momentarily at a loss.

The Dragon King, circling in mid-air, sent another message: there was movement in the seventh wooden house.

"The seventh wooden house! Quick, the seventh!" I shouted.

The old farmer scrambled up and stumbled after us towards the seventh wooden house.

The second corpse appeared in the guest room of the seventh wooden house.

It was another Amn merchant who had come with us; his death was identical to that of the previous victim.

"The wound was a stab from behind," Randall said, kneeling on one knee and carefully examining the body. "The killer was two heads shorter than him."

I pushed open the creaking wardrobe door; the smell of mold was mixed with a faint scent of orange blossom.

Curled up in the corner of a shelf was a blonde girl, tightly clutching a faded rag doll.

"Eileen!" The old farmer stumbled over and pounced, the oil lamp casting flickering light spots on the girl's face.

Her blank blue eyes reflected the firelight, like two dry wells.

The old farmer rushed over and embraced the girl, "Eileen, you're not hurt, are you? morning light lord bless you!"

Randall and I quickly asked her what she had seen and why she was there.

The girl remained silent, her vacant blue eyes staring straight ahead, not seeing anyone.

"The child is frightened..." The old farmer's voice was like a rusty hinge, "Let me take her back to rest first..."

It seemed we couldn't get anything out of her, so Randall and I had to give up.

In this remote village, the cold night wind carried snowflakes, swirling through the empty village roads, and the crunching sound of our boots on the snow was particularly grating.

Randall's greatsword swept through the barn's shadow for the third time, but its tip only dislodged broken cobwebs. The Holy Knight's brow was deeply furrowed.

"There are no Undead Creatures within eight hundred feet," he murmured, rubbing the mist-covered holy emblem on his breastplate. The ice crystals condensed on the metal surface gleamed coldly in the moonlight. "But my perception is like tinder soaked in snowmelt..."

I rubbed my frozen fingers. The chilling outline sketched by Original Consciousness still lingered in my mind—that thing was like a giant beast lurking beneath the ice, I could clearly feel the undercurrents as it moved, yet I could never find a crack to break through the ice.

"Perhaps the blizzard is interfering with the spell," I exhaled a cloud of white breath, watching it dissipate into the howling north wind. "Let's go back to the wooden house and plan thoroughly. When dawn breaks..."

Before I could finish speaking, Randall suddenly pressed down on my shoulder.

His cloak flapped in the wind, and the holy emblem on his chest was seeping fine, hair-thin golden rays, pointing southeast like iron filings drawn by a magnet.

"Over there," the Holy Knight's voice was colder than a sword's edge, "I feel a trace of ominous aura over there."

Before I could speak, he had already strode into the wind and snow.

The cracks carved by his boot studs on the icy surface were instantly buried by the heavy snow, just like all the clues we had searched for earlier.

"Wait!" I jogged to catch up, and as my leather boots slipped on the ice, an iron gauntlet steadied me firmly.

Randall's brown pupils reflected my disheveled appearance: "You should go back."

"If something really happens," I brushed the snow off my shoulder, the Red Tassel Spear already sliding into my palm, "it's safer to be by your side."

The Holy Knight's sigh was almost inaudible in the wind. As we rounded the corner piled with firewood, the mill's windmill was slowly turning behind the curtain of snow, its rusty bearings emitting a creaking sound like the groans of the dying.