Azure Scepter

Page 99

The tall, thin moneylender took one last, wistful look at the treasure, then took a deep breath, quickly selected all the diamonds from it, and tossed them into his leather pouch.

The shrunken leather bag suddenly bulged, and the diamonds clattered together.

"Then, you take the opportunity to go out through the hole on the south side of the house, run back into the ditch, and confirm our escape direction."

“What if there are patrols on all our routes?” Little Soms continued to fasten the buttons of his cloak and crouched down next to the hole on the south side.

The lender slung the heavy leather bag over his shoulder, then picked up the axe and kindling from the ground.

"Then let's retreat first, then sneak to the east, and start a fire—in short, the core of our entire plan is to mislead the enemy. By the way, aren't you really not bringing any treasure? Take some gems, and you'll be rich."

Little Soms shook his head. Everything now had to serve the purpose of escaping. It would be too tragic if greed caused an accident.

The tall, thin moneylender raised an eyebrow, then walked to the west window and picked up the stone that had been placed there beforehand.

"Are you ready?"

Little Soms turned around and gave a thumbs-up in agreement.

“Relax, little Soms, we got through Beaver Town—I’ll count to three, and then we’ll get to work.”

"three."

Little Soms' heart was racing, and his sweaty palms felt sticky.

"two."

As his line of sight began to narrow, little Soms stared straight at the ditch a dozen meters away.

"One—Let's do it!"

"boom!"

The next moment, the sound of a stone shattering glass came from behind! As if it were a signal, a massive, dense throng of footsteps erupted on the street, the ground began to shake under the weight of the footsteps, and the wails of the zombie horde filled the entire space.

Without the slightest hesitation, Soms burst through the hole and charged towards the distant ditch.

The ground was muddy, and the withered weeds had begun to turn yellow. Under the silvery moonlight, everything appeared hazy and indistinct.

Little Soms couldn't see clearly. He was afraid of tripping over the severed limbs on the ground. It wasn't until he pounced into the ditch like a vicious dog, the burning pain from the cuts on his face caused by the gravel, that he realized he had succeeded.

He quickly stood up and looked ahead—

The sparse woodland looked empty, and there wasn't a single person in the thick darkness of the night. There were no patrols on their planned escape route!

He was overjoyed; his long-suppressed worries turned into overwhelming happiness. He immediately turned around and waved towards the barn.

Seeing that the operation went smoothly, the lender breathed a long sigh of relief. He slowly climbed down, then reached his hand through the hole, and with a little effort from his elbows and knees, he slowly squeezed through the hole like a worm.

However, just as the lender crawled through the hole and was about to stand up again—

"Clap."

A shiny black leather shoe inappropriately stepped onto the gravel road at the corner.

The lender's pupils constricted instantly—he recognized the shoes; they belonged to the cult members who had been keeping watch nearby!

Finished!

he thought.

Chapter 198 Little Soms' Adventure (Part Two)

The moneylender took a deep breath and did not move hastily. He quietly crouched in the shadows, his fingers gripping the axe handle tightly.

The cultists haven't discovered him yet; he still has a chance!

He slowly raised his eyes and glanced at the corner of the barn.

Under the moonlight, a cultist with a face covered in stitches was tightly embracing a bloated, pus-filled zombie. He kissed the zombie and then muttered to himself.

"Tester is blind! Who says there aren't any pretty zombies? Isn't this one quite pretty? Look at all that fat..."

The zombie swayed aimlessly, its limbs seemingly controlled by invisible threads in the air.

"It's a pity it lacks a bit of fun." The cultist sighed with a hint of regret. He grabbed the zombie's collar and tore it open, and countless rotting flies swarmed out of the holes in the zombie's body.

“Let’s go into the barn,” the cultist said as he walked toward the moneylender.

At that moment, time seemed to stand still, and countless contradictory thoughts flashed through the lender's mind.

A sudden, unexpected attack?

Retract?

Or should we continue to lie low?

If an attack occurs, should we kill the zombies first, or the cultists?

It's all over, everything's ruined...

His chaotic thoughts grew increasingly jumbled as the cultists drew closer. The terrifying stench and the buzzing of flies made him dizzy and unable to make any decisions.

The cult members were getting closer and closer, and the lender knew they would soon see him.

"Relax, baby, relax, it'll be over soon." The cultist's tone was affectionate and tender.

The obese, bloated zombie let out a low growl like a vicious dog, and slowly turned its head to look at the moneylender.

The zombie's face was covered with countless holes, and bright red muscles were faintly visible between the honeycomb-like holes. Its eyeballs were full of white film, and the entire lens bulged out of the eye socket, drooping little by little under the influence of gravity, with the bright red connective tissue sticking together like broken lotus roots.

The lender remained silent, completely frozen in place.

"What's wrong?" the cultist asked, then followed the walker's gaze and slowly looked at the moneylender...

"Clap!"

Suddenly, the sound of a bottle shattering came from afar.

The cult members suddenly turned around and looked at the ditch not far away.

"Who's there!?" He looked wary and took out a spellbook from his belt.

"Hurry up and do it, don't just stand there!" Little Soms's voice slammed into the lender's head like a heavy hammer, instantly waking him up.

He suddenly pushed himself up, then raised his right arm and, with all his might, chopped the axe hard at the back of the cultist's head.

As if hearing footsteps, the cultist turned sharply, a flicker of surprise in his yellow eyes. He instinctively ducked to hide, but—

"Pfft!"

The axe blade sliced ​​down the cultist's nose and chin, and thick beads of blood gushed out like a tidal wave.

Before the cultist could even cry out in pain, the loan shark suddenly stepped forward, grabbed the man by the back of the neck, and then plunged an axe into his face.

"Click!"

The dull sound of bones cracking echoed in the night sky, and the cultists' cries of agony were silenced before they could even be uttered.

The axe blade nearly cleaved half of the cultist's head, the curled iron blade emerging from the back of his skull through the bone. Blood mixed with pinkish-white brain matter dripped slowly down the axe blade onto the ground, the splattered bone fragments and glaring scarlet blood spreading out like a spider web.

The lender had just breathed a sigh of relief when the putrid groans of the walking corpse suddenly exploded in his ears. He quickly released the axe handle, narrowly avoiding the walking corpse's attack.

But this obese zombie was incredibly fast. As soon as it missed its target, it immediately swung a claw at the moneylender's face. The moneylender couldn't dodge in time and was grabbed by the zombie's shoulder. In a searing pain, the leather shoulder guard, along with a large piece of flesh, was torn off.

"Pfft!!"

The next instant, the zombie suddenly crouched down and pushed off the ground, its fat and powerful body slamming into the lender's chest like a cannonball. With a sickening cracking sound, the lender was knocked to the ground.

He instinctively reached out to push, but the zombie's strength was astonishing.

The zombie's flesh, riddled with wormholes, surged like waves. Its rotting gums drew ever closer to the moneylender's throat, and saliva mixed with putrid blood slowly dripped from its teeth onto the moneylender's cheek.

"Pfft!"

Suddenly, the lender felt the pressure ease—a spear pierced the back of the zombie's head from behind.

The lender quickly pushed aside the disgusting, obese zombie, and little Soms came into view.

“By the Radiance, thank you, little Soms. I swear, you are far more reliable than your father.” The moneylender, still shaken, wiped the sticky, sour saliva from his face and slowly stood up.

But the next moment, he was completely stunned.

The corner of the barn was now filled with the dead! Another cultist stood before the walking corpses like a general, slowly lowering his head, his cold eyes beneath his pointed hat meeting those of the moneylender.

“Good, you’re all very good. I was originally curious to see what that necrophiliac Solder was up to.” The cultist said with a forced smile, slowly unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a row of gleaming torture instruments neatly arranged on the lining of his clothes. “Now, you have a new toy.”

"Run, little Soms!" the moneylender screamed. "I'll go stop him!"

Little Soms hesitated for a moment, then immediately threw down his spear, mustered all his strength, and ran toward the ditch.

Short syllables came from behind, followed by the lender's sudden, abrupt, scream.

If only I knew magic!

Little Soms began to hate his own weakness from the bottom of his heart.

He felt warm tears welling up in his eyes, but he had no time to care, because the necromancer's cold spell notes came from behind him again.

At that moment, the ditch was only ten steps away from him, but little Soms knew it was too late.

Feeling utterly desolate, he stopped and turned to look at the cultists in pointed hats.

Even if it means death, I want to see how he casts the spell... Little Soms thought to himself.

"Clap!"

A sphere reeking of blood spun and crashed at Soms' feet. He instinctively looked down and discovered that the head belonged to a cultist named Cone Hat!

How can it be! ?

Little Soms looked up in disbelief in the direction of the escape, and then he witnessed a scene he would never forget.

Chapter 199 Little Soms' Adventure (Part 3)

Little Soms witnessed a scene he would never forget.

The dilapidated gray bricks of the barn cast long shadows, and the bubbling, scalding blood, like watercolors splashed freely, left a shocking trail of blood on the ground covered with withered weeds.

The pointed hat cult members have been beheaded!

The headless corpse of the cult member groped blankly at its neck, blood gushing out like a fountain, before it suddenly collapsed to the ground.

The cold blade moved away from the cultist's blood-soaked neck, and with a gentle flick of the hand holding the sword, crimson blood slowly flowed down the blade, dripping onto the ground.

Little Soms looked blankly at the person holding the sword.

Under the milky moonlight, a shadow emerged from the barn's shadow. It was strangely tall, and its withered, pale skin changed color as it moved, the various colors flowing like mercury, almost blending into its environment, barely visible, only from certain angles.

Its large knuckles gripped the end of the hilt tightly, then it slightly trembled its wrist, lowered the icy blade, and the blade was as clean as the first snow of winter, without a trace of blood.

This is a corpse demon.

Soms felt a sudden tightness in his chest, but then a question arose in his mind: he couldn't understand why this strange ghoul would attack cultists.

The corpse demon stepped over the moneylender's corpse like a dangerous animal patrolling its territory. It slowly raised its head and looked at the restless horde of plague corpses in the distance.

"Help me...uh...my diamonds...diamonds...give me the diamonds first..."

Suddenly, the moneylender lying on the ground groaned and struggled to get up.

Little Soms was overjoyed – the moneylender was still alive!

A sudden gust of night wind swept by, dark clouds obscured the silver moon, and the sky instantly darkened completely.

The horde of corpses, now free from the cultist's control, was already restless. The streets were crowded with heads of all colors. The next moment, they all pounced on the corpse demon and the loan shark behind it. The tide of the dead, mixed with piercing screams and groans, seemed unstoppable!

Little Soms couldn't help but recall the great battle in Beaver Town. Although there were far more undead back then than there are now, he had a phalanx to rely on and the paladin Trier to lead him. Now, however, he had nothing.

He couldn't help but show a bitter expression.

However, the corpse demon still seemed unhurried. He lowered the tip of his sword and walked slowly forward, as if he were walking on tiptoe. Every step he took was as light as a dancer. His thin, misty armor was sometimes as white as moonlight and sometimes as dark as shadow, but it was always set against the dim yellow of the barn.

"boom!"

The barn's iron fence was breached by the horde of zombies, and the zombies, their bodies pierced with fence spikes, arched their backs like hyenas and pounced.

Time seemed to stand still at this moment.

The corpse demon slowly lowered the longsword in its hand. The icy blade emitted a captivating, faint blue light. The moonlight reflected off the sharp edge, mirroring the grotesque, bulging eyes of the walking corpses, as well as the corpse demon's distinct index finger.

The next instant, blood splattered!

The blinding sword light flashed and disappeared in an instant, followed by the sound of flesh breaking and bones snapping. The zombie's head spun around and slammed into the gray brick wall with a "bang," leaving behind a pool of flesh.

This was only the beginning of the massacre; the bizarre corpse demons suddenly quickened their pace, reaching a dazzling level.

Little Soms stared intently at the ghoul's movements, but couldn't catch a glimpse of them.