Everyone followed Lynch’s pointed direction and easily noticed that a thick fog was now rising over the Dormant Forest. However, the sun still hung high above their heads, albeit with a sowhat deadened air, yet it was indeed afternoon.
Zilvra jumped down from the carriage and, after gently patting the mage’s back, disappeared into the undergrowth. Macken the knight widened his eyes, hoping to be the first to spot the enemy. However, he still did not believe that anything in this area could pose a threat to them.
"What’s in there that’s making you so nervous?" Morgan stood in front of the mage, using his broad body to block the path between the forest and the mage: "Are the beastn up to so trickery?"
"No, a lot of undead have appeared inside, at least, they look very much like undead," Lynch’s words greatly surprised Macken the knight. The mage said, "But as long as everyone is careful, I can easily imprison all those things."
No sooner had the mage spoken the words than the ever-changing mist began to condense into forms resembling humans. Their faces beca increasingly distinct, with pale beards swaying in the wind. In their sunken sockets, golden or silver pupils emitted a soft glow. Most of them appeared in the guise of elderly humans, crossing their withered hands over their chests in silence. Lynch summoned the power of the Undead Magic Bead, intending to capture all the surrounding undead as prisoners. But the Powerful Wand rely wobbled, making no response.
"Lynch, I find this very strange," Macken the knight drew his sword but refrained from attacking. He said, "If those creatures are undead, why don’t I feel any chill? And behind them, there is no shroud of darkness either."
"Who are you?" Morgan shouted loudly: "Just standing there, neither speaking nor fighting! What on earth are you waiting for? I have neither the patience nor the interest to look at your faces!"
"Gentlen, please remain calm," a voice erged from among the creatures, yet Lynch saw no lips moving. "Perhaps you have many questions, but our understanding of you is equally limited. In your ranks, light and dark intermingle, with the brightest places sitting alongside the deepest darkness."
"We don’t have ti for your riddles," Lynch reaffird that the group indeed showed no signs of ’life,’ yet the Undead Magic Bead still couldn’t function. Although figuring out this newly erged group might elevate the mage’s standing in the Association, Lynch cared little for such hollow glory; he simply wished to avoid potential danger. "Are you intending to block our path? If not, please move aside quickly."
"Young gentlen, it seems we have frightened you," the voice continued, "after countless ages, the number of tis the sun has passed here is beyond count, and now we finally await another knight from the Holy Hall. White-haired old sir, please step forward; we have important matters to discuss with you."
Macken the knight showed a mont of surprise on his face, shaking his head, he said, "I have been expelled from the Paladin Order; I am no longer a being fighting under the glory. I think you have got the wrong person."
Hearing these words, the ghostly figures began whispering among themselves, a chaotic noise flooding into the mage’s mind. It was only then that Lynch realized they were using spiritual power to communicate, and mouths might be re ornants. This group’s power was so strong that they easily penetrated Lynch’s ntal defenses, greatly surprising the mage.
"Before asking others to converse with you, at the very least, you should state who you are," Lynch said: "Or have you lived through so many seasons that you’ve long forgotten basic manners?"
"Mr. Mage, your request cannot be granted," an elderly voice said: "I still rember how the mages once dragged this land into war; the sight of living creatures devastated is the most tragic mory I have ever seen. Don’t claim that you or any mber from the Mage Association could ever know our na." Then, he turned to Macken: "Mr. Paladin, we still ask you to co with us."
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