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Chapter 873: Chapter 856: The Goddess’s Followers and Knights

"But you seem to be hiding from soone."

Lann, leaning against the cliff wall with arms crossed, didn’t move, but suddenly spoke up.

Fodolink’s body, which was about to leave, froze for a mont, then resud its movent.

He waved his hand without looking back.

"It’s just soone I’ve yet to et at the agreed ti... In this decaying world, we all have our own matters to attend to. Don’t mind this old fellow, let’s each go our separate ways, Lann."

"May the fla protect you, farewell."

Fodolink untied the deep red cloth that the archbishop had just wrapped around him and tossed it to Lann.

Then, without looking back, he disappeared into the rugged and winding mountain path.

In the mountain breeze, Lann gently raised his hand, and the deep red cloth floating in mid-air was caught in his hand.

"Decaying... world?"

The Demon Hunter looked up from this mountain path, noticing the dim yellow sky seed unchanged. No change in the angle of light, no change in the intensity of light... as if hope had been lost.

Lann put the deep red cloth into his pocket and naturally joined the convoy.

The people in the convoy said nothing about his joining, nor did they even glance at him, simply burying their heads as they walked.

Archbishop Klimte, who led the convoy, claid the main purpose was to ’bring back the unheralded Goddess.’

But such a large convoy, gathered with difficulty in this increasingly chaotic world, naturally aid to accomplish as much as possible on this outing.

Thus, there were also so special items being transported in the convoy.

It was a group of corpses, so dry and withered that they even surpassed the exaggeration of the loggers Lann first encountered.

Their bodies elongated to about Lann’s height, yet emaciated enough to directly reveal the gaps between their ribs.

The hollow eye sockets were devoid of moist eyeballs, the once full and plump eyes now shriveled and stuck to the bottom of the sockets.

Most of these corpses had holes in their chests, as if pierced directly by spears, showing clean and swift wounds with no signs of struggle.

These must be ’Undead seeking liberation,’ just processed from the Undead Settlent and transported out.

Moving along with the convoy for convenience and safety.

These bodies were placed on several carriages at the end of the convoy.

So were sealed in coffins, tightly chained. Others were directly stuffed into the carriage compartnts.

In the convoy, apart from the church knights resembling iron towers, there were people of combat ability moving alongside these corpse-hauling carriages.

Seemingly prepared to deal swiftly should the undead suddenly revive and cause chaos.

Throughout the convoy, there were believers everywhere.

They wore religious robes and cowls, but the patterns and textures were vastly inferior to those of Archbishop Klimte, revealing the hierarchy within the religion.

So of them held large flags, so small ones, mostly deep red with golden rhomboid patterns, likely so emblem.

More followers simply clasped their hands before their chests, whispering prayers as they walked.

Yet the most noticeable in the entire convoy were not the piles of undead bodies, nor the devout believers or vigilant warriors... but a group of unusual beings.

They appeared as plump, fleshy worms.

Or rather... Maggot n.

Their entire bodies had turned into flesh-colored worm-like forms, squirming and bulky, retaining only two arms and a head and neck on the upper torso.

However, on those faces, the features distorted and unclear like lted wax, leaving only vaguely outlined cavities.

If Lann had encountered these Maggot n in the wild, he would likely draw his blade first and assess the situation afterward.

But now, these grotesque Maggot n were openly crawling and squirming within the convoy.

A few held religious staffs in their hands, using them to support their upper bodies as they moved.

These Maggot n’s status seed quite high, as the followers surrounded them closely, just behind the Goddess’s car.

"Those are devotees of the Goddess Rosalie."

"Undergoing the ’Rebirth Ritual,’ walking through the process of rebirth."

Suddenly, a steady male voice with an aristocratic accent spoke beside Lann.

Lann, considering himself ’barely a fighter,’ naturally positioned himself at the back of the convoy, among the warriors guarding the undead corpses.

It was one of these people who talked to him.

Lann glanced sideways at a normally built man. Yet his attire...

Reminded Lann of the Hunters of Yan’an.

A black leather coat, gloves, boots, with tal components inside to enhance protection of key areas, a three-cornered hat on his head, and a silver mask revealing only his eyes.

In this world, as far as Lann could see, everyone still dressed in the proper knightly attire, with armor or common clothing typical of that era.

This man’s Victorian Era ensemble was undeniably conspicuous.

He appeared to be a follower of Goddess Rosalie.

Because his tone now seed similar to the Missionary of Eternal Fire spreading sermons among the countryside.

Except those Missionaries of Eternal Fire were fervent, spreading hate, whereas this man was asured, unhurried.

Nonetheless, at heart, he was still a ’Missionary.’

"This Goddess is nad Rosalie?"

Lann turned his face back, showing no particular interest.

"Indeed, Rosalie, the Mother of Rebirth. I am Leonard, a Knight serving the Goddess."

As Lann’s experience suggested, characters like ’Missionaries’, if you showed even lukewarm curiosity toward their words, they would willingly continue speaking.

Too enthusiastic, they deem you self-driven, needing no effort spent. Too cold, they see no point in wasting ti on you, feeling futile.

Lann’s current attitude was just enough to warrant effort and persuasion.

"The Goddess possesses the power of ’Rebirth,’ as a Warrior, I believe you understand the necessity of ’Rebirth’."

Leonard introduced his Goddess to this fresh encounter with a calm voice.

"Lacking talent to advance further. Crippling injuries and hidden ache from brutal battles. Old age marked by pain, frailty, and desolation. These are inescapable fates for warriors."

"But through the ’Rebirth Ritual,’ one can gain a new life, carrying experience and strength!"

"The ugly can beco beautiful, the short can grow tall..."

Leonard’s words carried a hint of temptation, his voice as soothing as a dream.

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