Steam Old Days: The Extraordinary Begins with a Corpse Collector

The Dark Oak Forest covers an area of ​​fifteen square kilometers.

The forest contains a large number of century-old trees with dense canopies that block out the sky.

Even though the sun is shining brightly today, it is difficult for the sunlight to penetrate the layers of oak leaves.

The forest was extremely dark, with only some mottled and eerie light and shadow reflected on the ground.

The once tranquil forest was now filled with the echoes of a roar.

A strong smell of blood permeated the air.

"No! Don't! Don't come any closer!"

A man stepped back in terror, his eyes wide and bloodshot.

The ground was littered with gruesome corpses.

Amidst the corpses scattered on the ground, a hideous monster stood before him.

The monster's large hand, covered in sharp claws, was grasping a bloody human head.

His mouth was dripping with foul-smelling saliva, and he was emitting low growls from his throat.

The monster raised a hand and slowly approached the man.

The man stepped back in front of a large tree, his back touching the thick trunk.

He touched the rough bark; the monster before him was only a step away.

The man was panting heavily, his nerves were on the verge of collapse, and all he wanted at that moment was to survive.

Therefore, the man went mad and wildly waved the silver sword in his hand.

puff!

The silver sword pierced the monster's chest with a clean, sharp motion.

The monster froze, lowered its head, and looked at the disbelief in its eyes.

The man roared, drew his sword, and swung it toward the monster's head.

The silver sword severed the monster's head, and scalding blood gushed from its neck, splattering onto the man's face.

Thick blood slid down the man's face, which further fueled his murderous intent.

He stepped over the monster's corpse and stabbed it wildly with his silver sword, venting his emotions.

Just as the man was about to chop the monster into pieces, a weak voice reached his ears.

"Carter, stop stabbing, that's not a monster..."

"No, not a monster?"

Carter paused, looking blankly at the corpse at his feet, which clearly resembled a monster.

But the next moment, Carter's hand holding the sword began to tremble.

The scene before him suddenly changed.

The originally hideous monster corpse has now turned into a headless human corpse.

The body was still wearing the same leather armor as Carter's.

"John...?"

The man's voice was hoarse, and his eyes were filled with disbelief.

He looked back at the monster's head he had severed.

There were no monster heads left on the ground, only a lone human head.

Fear and shock caused the lifeless face to become extremely distorted.

Realizing he had killed his companion, Carter dropped his silver sword to the ground with a clang.

He yelled and lunged forward, embracing John's head in his arms.

Blood stained his chest.

"No, no, it can't be, why? Why!"

Carter suffered a mental breakdown; he wept, clutched his companion's head tightly, and let out a beast-like howl.

At that moment, the voice that had just called out to him rang out again.

Carter looked up at the sound and saw a pale-faced man sitting under a large tree.

The man gripped the revolver in his right hand, while his left hand covered his wounded abdomen, blood seeping from between his fingers.

"Captain Ryder..."

Carter murmured, as if grasping at a straw, and crawled to Ryder's side on all fours.

Ignoring the filth on his hands, he frantically covered Ryder's wound.

"Captain, what, what happened? Why did it turn out like this?" Carter asked, his teeth chattering.

Ryder caught his breath and said, "We've been tricked. The spores emitted from those vines can cause hallucinations, and all of my companions..."

Ryder's voice choked with emotion; he was unwilling to continue.

"So they all died from killing each other?" Carter stared in horror at the corpses scattered on the ground. He suddenly felt a lump in his throat, unable to rise or fall.

"A team of fifteen, now it's just the two of us left?" Carter said in despair.

Ryder closed his eyes and then nodded vigorously.

Before Carter could even grieve, Ryder suddenly grabbed his hand: "Come on! We have to get out of here quickly! If we all die here, no one will avenge them!"

Carter agreed wholeheartedly and quickly helped the seriously injured Ryder up. The two of them then limped toward the exit of Dark Oak Forest.

Just as the two turned to leave, a dark figure quietly peeked out from behind a tree deep in the woods.

He watched their disheveled figures, a mocking smile spreading across his sinister face beneath his hood.

Then, the dark figure disappeared into the forest again.

……

"What? Only two out of fifteen people survived!"

At Sutcliffe Estate, Viscount William had just finished his equestrian practice for the day, and he hadn't even untied the saber hanging at his waist.

He was about to go into the dressing room to change when he saw the old butler rushing over and telling him the shocking bad news.

"Yes. Apart from the leader, Ryder, and one of his men named Carter, everyone else is dead."

The old butler wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his back hunched, not daring to look at his master's expression.

Upon hearing this news, Viscount William stood there for a long time.

But he did not show any of the anger the old butler had imagined; his tone of command remained as calm as ever.

"I brought them here, and even if they die, I will be responsible," Viscount William said. "Send word to every single family member of these thirteen men; I will give them one hundred gold pounds as compensation. Tell everyone it was injury or an accident, and whatever you do, keep it quiet!"

"Yes, sir!"

After bowing, the old steward was about to go and take care of the matter.

"Wait, come back."

Viscount William summoned the old butler back again.

"Is there anything else you need, sir?"

"Summon Ryder to my study," Viscount William ordered.

"But he's badly injured..." The old butler was about to speak when he was silenced by Viscount William's fierce gaze. "I'll bring him to your study, sir."

After saying that, the old butler hurriedly left.

When Viscount William saw the old butler leave, he let out a long sigh of relief. He was about to turn around and open the dressing room door when his legs gave way and he almost knelt on the ground.

He leaned against the door panel and held onto the doorknob to barely stand up straight.

The thought of thirteen men dying on his own territory, all of them Witchers, finally caused Viscount William's suppressed rage to erupt. He slammed his fist against the wall, gritting his teeth and cursing, "Damn heretics!"

Inside the study, Viscount William, having changed his clothes, sat in a chair, leaning back with a silk scarf wrapped around his hand.

He waited silently for the old butler to call Ryder over.

Soon, there was a knock on the door.

Boom boom boom!

Upon hearing the knock, Viscount William immediately sat up straight, rested his chin on his hands, and said in a deep voice, "Come in."

As the oak door was pushed open, the old butler led Ryder in.

The old butler bowed to William: "Sir, Mr. Ryder has arrived."

Viscount William nodded, waved for the old butler to step aside, and then stared at Ryder with a serious expression.

Ryder still had bandages wrapped around his clothes, and he lowered his head, licking his lips uneasily.

"I remember you told me before that you could definitely help me get rid of those heretics, and I chose to believe you, but..."

Viscount William abruptly changed the subject, his voice becoming stern.

"Now there are thirteen more corpses on my territory, while those infidels are still living happily!"

After saying that, Viscount William slammed his hand on the table.

Upon hearing this, Ryder was so frightened that his legs went weak and he fell to his knees with a thud.

"Sir, please forgive us, this was our mistake," Ryder explained. "At first, things went smoothly; we killed quite a few heretics. But what we didn't expect was that those heretics had planted a special vine in a valley in the forest. That vine emits hallucinogenic spores, so we..."

Ryder knelt on the ground, trembling.

After hearing Ryder's explanation, Viscount William looked at the old butler standing to the side.

The old butler understood immediately and stepped forward, saying, "Sir, based on Mr. Ryder's description, I highly suspect that this vine is hemophiliac vine."

"Hemophiliac?"

"Yes, the Hemophiliac is also a type of mutant. This vine has densely packed sporangia on its surface. It does not attack people actively, but once someone enters the territory of the Hemophiliac, it will release spores, forming a thin layer of pink mist. Users will quickly fall into hallucinations and then kill each other."

"Yes! Yes! That's exactly how it was!" Ryder quickly chimed in.

Viscount William frowned and asked the old butler, "Do you have any good ideas?"

The old butler thought for a moment and replied, "Yes!"

"What method?"

"The effects of the Bloodfriend Vine fall under the category of mental magic. As long as we can find a mental superhuman who can use Soul Soothing Technique, it will be easy to solve."

Upon hearing this, Viscount William tapped his fingertips on the table, deep in thought: "Mental-based? Then the Witcher is out of the question."

"Yes, sir. It seems we still need to recruit a few more priests."

"Hmm..." Viscount William pondered for a long time before making a decision. "Barkley, I'm putting you in charge of this matter. No matter the cost, find me a reliable person. Don't tell them the truth; just say you're investigating the Dream Moth."

"Yes, sir."

After giving his instructions, Viscount William turned his gaze to Ryder.

Ryder knelt on the ground, prostrate, awaiting Viscount William's judgment.

But at this moment, Viscount William's gaze was no longer as hard as before; instead, it revealed a hint of tenderness.

"Alright, stand up. Although you've caused me trouble, I was the one who asked you to come, so I bear half the responsibility. I've already sent compensation to your dead men. Once Barkley brings the pastor, I hope you won't disappoint me again."

These words sent shockwaves through Ryder's mind.

He had done dirty work for many nobles, and most of the people he encountered were arrogant and snobbish, looking down on a witcher like him.

If there's anything I do wrong, I'll either beat or scold me.

Just because they are witchers, rats that can only hide in the gutter.

But now that he's working for Viscount William, he hasn't held himself accountable for his crimes and has even generously provided for the remains of his dead brothers.

Such kindness far exceeded Ryder's comprehension.

Ryder stood up in a daze: "Sir! I, I..."

His voice was hoarse from sobbing.

Suddenly, Ryder knelt down on one knee and gave Viscount William a knightly salute.

"Sir, your kindness moves me, your magnanimity is unprecedented. From this moment on, my sword and I belong to you! To the Sutcliff family, I swear by my heart."

Ryder's firm voice echoed in the study.

Viscount William waved his hand and then ordered, "Take him away, Barkley. Put the medical bill in my name."

"Yes, sir."

The old butler bowed deeply, then pulled Ryder, who refused to get up, out of the study.

"Why!"

Viscount William sat alone in his study and let out a long sigh.

Meanwhile, far away in the Sanctuary of Grayhorn, Cecilia was resting on her bed.

Herbert was holding a glass of water and two pills in his hand.

"Sis, take your medicine first. The doctor said it's good for your health."

"Um!"

Cecilia took the pill and swallowed it with water.

After taking her medicine, Cecilia asked Herbert about Lyndon's whereabouts.

"Has Philip not returned yet?"

"No, he didn't come back all night," Herbert said, taking the glass of water from Cecilia.

Cecilia looked worried: "Where did he go? I'm so worried!"

Herbert, however, pursed his lips, feigning indifference: "Sis, there's nothing to worry about. What could possibly happen to a man like Philip?"

But as soon as she finished speaking, Cecilia patted Herbert on the head and said reproachfully, "He is, after all, our colleague. Have you forgotten what Professor Craig taught us? We should treat him like family."

At that moment, Cecilia remembered something.

"Herbert, could you go to the city center for me sometime?"

"What are you doing?" Herbert asked, puzzled.

"Philip is a mental-type transcendent. Go and prepare some mental-type auxiliary magic potions for him to help him cultivate better and stabilize his spiritual power. Take the Gray Horn token to purchase some."

Herbert scoffed. "Oh, so you're running errands for Philip. Fine, fine, I'd like to go sightseeing in town anyway."

Herbert stood up and stretched: "Then I'll go in the afternoon after I've prepared lunch."

"Okay! Be careful this afternoon! Don't play around, and remember to come back after you get your medicine!" Cecilia reminded her worriedly.

"Okay!" Herbert walked out of the room, his voice already carried far away.

in the afternoon.

Herbert first rented a donkey cart, then a horse-drawn carriage, and after much wandering, finally arrived at St. Caleb's Church.

He didn't go through the front door, but went in through the back door.

"Hi Edgar! How have you been lately?"

As soon as Herbert entered, he greeted a tall, thin, red-haired pastor with a hooked nose behind the counter.

"Oh, it's Herbert. Is there anything you need?"

"I need some mental potions, calming potions, and spiritual enlightenment potions."

"Do you have proof?" Edgar asked, reaching out his hand.

"Of course." Herbert slapped the voucher into Edgar's hand.

Edgar checked it over and, after confirming that there was no problem, turned and went into the pharmacy.

After a while, Edgar came out carrying a basket of potion bottles.

"Okay, that's all. Please check them. We are not responsible for anything after you leave the counter."

"Okay!" Herbert reached into the basket, picked out a few bottles, and unscrewed the caps to check them.

Suddenly, Edgar asked about the purpose of these potions.

"I remember that neither you nor my sister studied mental techniques, so why would you need these?"

Herbert's mind was entirely on the potions, so without thinking much, he casually said, "Oh, didn't my teacher retire recently? A new person named Philip came to the Sanctuary. He practices mental magic, and these potions are for him."

Edgar nodded.

"Okay! There's nothing wrong with these medicines! I'll be going now!"

Herbert arranged the potion bottles neatly, then waved goodbye to Edgar, carrying his basket.

"Goodbye." Edgar lowered his head and continued with his work.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over him.

Edgar looked up and saw an old gentleman standing in front of him with a smile.

"What's the matter?" Edgar asked.

The old gentleman removed his felt hat and respectfully asked, "Hello, I am Barkley. May I ask which sanctuary's priest that man was from?"