Women only affect my ability to spread the fire

Oh, what a shame, my Lord's pirouette, I should have dressed up.

For the first time, Margaret felt that her smart vest and trousers, suitable for outdoor exploration, were so inappropriate.

Margaret simply closed her eyes and felt Russell spinning her around and around. She imagined her flying skirt and hummed the waltz of the Usedom court in her heart.

Forward, backward, turn left, turn right.

Margaret imagined Russell's gorgeous dance steps and imagined him attracting all the attention in the palace banquet hall.

The crisp sound of weapons clashing seemed to be beating the rhythm for her.

She even began to hum softly, and the melodious tune added a touch of melancholy to the massacre.

Finally, the sound of the last demon falling to the ground was like a rest in a waltz, and Russell stopped his dance.

Margaret felt Russell's chest rising and falling and opened her eyes in his arms.

She found that it was completely dark.

Her eyes were filled with reluctance: "My Lord, can you invite me to dance again?"

"I'm happy to be of service, ma'am, if you don't mind the awful surroundings." Russell smiled. "Also, I'm afraid you'll have to teach me the real dance steps."

"That is much easier to learn than swordsmanship, my lord."

The waves beat the rhythm, the night wind blew through the woods, and the roar of the demon centurion faintly coming from the seashore was like drumbeats. Under the command of the fire, the trees in the lumberyard swayed their shadows to the rhythm of the dance steps.

Margaret, nestled in Russell's arms, smiled; she thought this was more grand than any ball in Usedom.

The author says:

Author's words: Thank you for the monthly tickets and coins

031 In the Church

Russell woke up slowly and yawned deeply.

Margaret was still snuggling in Russell's arms, sleeping soundly.

Margaret's "sacrifice" last night was too passionate, causing her to still be sleeping soundly, with no sign of waking up.

Russell, who had absorbed a large number of demon souls last night, had become more energetic. His flames became lighter and were about to turn completely orange.

Russell had a feeling that he was not far from advancement.

Moreover, these flames are enough to burn for more than three years. Russell finally said goodbye to the days when the deadline was less than half a year, which made him breathe a sigh of relief.

Of course, there is good news and bad news.

Margaret's sword wasn't the only one that broke last night. In fact, after destroying the last few corpses of demons, the first sword Russell had picked up since traveling through time had also reached the end of its lifespan.

When killing the last demon, Russell also heard the wailing and cracking of the sword. He killed the last demon entirely by relying on the extended flames.

Russell wasn't sure whether the two swords breaking at the same time was a coincidence or related to the dissipation of the gray fog.

Margaret was in a very sentimental mood last night, so it was obviously not a good time to dwell on this issue.

So when he woke up this morning, Russell started thinking about this problem.

There is still a fierce battle to come, and of course it is impossible to fight without weapons, and the weapons must be good enough to ensure that they can pierce the thick skin of the Demon Centurion.

Russell vaguely remembered that Margaret's diary mentioned that there was a sacred sword used by "Saint Bran" to expel evil hanging in the tavern in the port.

Even Margaret, the daughter of the chief knight, praised it as the sharpest sword she had ever seen. It must be a weapon worthy of praise.

However, the port was completely destroyed yesterday in the battle between two demon centurions. Even the remaining ruins have been turned into a swamp by magic. How can we find this sword?

Russell fell into deep thought.

Just as Russell was lost in thought, Margaret finally woke up slowly, then she went downstairs and began to enjoy her breakfast.

Margaret called this a "holy communion ceremony" and came with a ritual process.

Before she began, she would whisper, "Please, Lord, give me food."

Then she used her slender hands, then her mouth and tongue, to provide the service very seriously and attentively, with a look of admiration and reliance.

Margaret, who had been studying the ritual carefully this morning, even began to try using her throat, and then she would carefully clean it with her tongue and swallow it completely without leaving a trace.

After each meal, Margaret would pray devoutly: "Thank you, Lord, for generously giving me food."

This is how the steps of Holy Communion are officially completed. During this process, she will be completely focused and silent.

Even when Russell asked questions, she would just keep them in mind and answer them one by one until the "holy communion" ceremony was over.

However, Margaret was very dissatisfied with Russell's idea of ​​looking for the "Holy Sword".

"That was fabricated by the false church to deceive the world. It's not a holy sword at all! If it really was a 'holy sword', how could this island be ravaged by demons?" Margaret said angrily. "You are the true god! Why do you need to rely on that false power?"

"Margaret, I just need a sharp and sturdy sword. Before challenging the Demon Centurion, we must have sufficiently sophisticated weapons." Russell looked at Margaret, who rarely expressed dissatisfaction, and patiently persuaded her, "Answer me, Margaret, is that sword sharp enough?"

Margaret pouted and said reluctantly, "Yes, my lord, it is a sharp sword."

"Is that sword strong enough?"

"Yes, my lord, it is a strong sword." Margaret's voice became even lower.

Russell coaxed, "Then, can I use it?"

"Of course, my Lord! Ah! I understand!" Margaret suddenly cheered up. "The reason this sword was placed on this island is precisely to await your visit! This holy sword clearly belongs to you, but it was stolen by the false church!"

Margaret had a very rich imagination and she quickly found the theoretical basis for Russell's use of the "holy sword", and she cheered up again.

All in all, Margaret began to be willing to find the sword for Russell, and the two left the cellar.

Although visibility has improved a lot, the fog has not completely dissipated.

I don’t know how long the thick fog has been spreading. It’s not surprising that it can’t be dissipated in one night. Russell thought so as he looked at the fog which was much thinner than yesterday.

Then his mind quickly changed.

Because Russell vaguely saw a figure wandering on the street in front of the church through the fog, and soon he walked into the church.

What happened? After we eliminated the fog yesterday, weren't the Lost Souls incapacitated? Weren't the bodies of the Lost Souls and demons near the lumberyard all burned?

Is this a Lost Soul wandering somewhere else? Can they operate without relying on the thick gray fog? Or is this guy actually an ordinary person?

But if he was an ordinary person, how could he survive the hunt by so many demons?

Russell was confused as he listened to the thunderous roar of the demon centurion at the foot of the mountain.

Obviously, what was happening before his eyes conflicted with the cognition he had just established last night.

Russell turned to look at Margaret, and Margaret's furrowed brow also showed her doubts.

Not sure, check again.

The two men crouched quietly, hiding their figures in the fog and the low wall, and tiptoed towards the church. Russell also quietly strung his crossbow.

Then they quietly moved to the back of the church, stuck their heads out, and saw the middle-aged man in the church who was dressed meticulously and looked very capable.

Even the harsh natural environment on this island seemed unable to stain his carefully styled hair and neatly arranged clothes with a trace of dust.

It seems that this middle-aged man is a completely capable person who is not affected by external things.

But at this moment he seemed to be greatly shocked.

He peeled off the armor that Russell had piled aside bit by bit, picked up the breastplate with intricate patterns and complex craftsmanship that Russell had replaced, and then his hands began to tremble.

He gently touched the large hole in the chestplate. Then, as if burned, he withdrew his hand.

His face became visibly sad.

Huh? He's here to see me? Does he seem to know my predecessor?

Russell saw the middle-aged man's behavior and began to speculate in his mind.

"No, Master will be fine. This is just the armor he took off... Cheer up. As the butler, you must, you must find Master back."

The middle-aged man said through gritted teeth.

032 Butler

"Is he your steward? My lord?" Margaret mouthed.

"I think so," Russell said, frowning.

Russell didn't think that the previous incarnation of his body had no servants. He just wondered how the butler survived, especially since the roar of the demon centurion at the foot of the mountain had not stopped yet.

Moreover, Russell did not inherit any memories of his previous incarnation, and he had no idea how to get along with the butler.

Perhaps the butler is a hidden master? Would he see through me, not his true master? What tone should I adopt when speaking to him? How could I avoid revealing my flaws?

Countless thoughts flooded into Russell's mind at once.

"Is that so..." Margaret's eyes softened, but immediately became sharp again.

Because the butler prayed to the broken statue: "Lord, please protect the young master and keep him safe."

After praying for the young master, the butler began to pick up other pieces of armor and pray for their owners. His words were quite sincere, and it sounded like he had a deep affection for these knights.

Margaret felt she could no longer endure it: How dare the Lord's steward pray to a false god for the Lord's peace? This was blasphemy, usurpation, and disobedience!

Margaret flew into a rage instantly, with veins visibly bulging on her forehead, but she managed to suppress the urge to question the housekeeper in person.

Margaret chose to turn and look at Russell. In her understanding, only her master had the right to deal with His servants, so she pleaded with Russell with her eyes to correct the butler's false letter immediately.

"Shh, he doesn't know my true identity. Only you know it." Russell winked at Margaret and smoothed out the wrinkles between Margaret's brows with just one sentence.

My Lord even hid it from his servants. It turns out that I am the first believer who is most trusted and favored by my Lord.

Margaret immediately felt happy again.

Russell breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Margaret's expression had obviously relaxed and there was a hint of pride between her brows.

Russell felt he had mastered the trick of how to coax Margaret.

"Remember to keep it a secret from him." Russell instructed Margaret.

Russell didn't think that his previous servants would easily accept such an absurd setting that their master had transformed into a god.

Margaret confirmed her previous guess and nodded happily.

As expected, my Lord prefers secret societies that take the elite route!

Wait a minute, my Lord asked me to identify the emblems on these knights' armor yesterday, which means he doesn't know who these emblems represent.

But my lord's steward recognized these emblems...which means that the body of this Occitania noble is now occupied and used by my lord.

He is my Lord, but not he.

Margaret immediately began to speculate, and it had to be said that her speculation was actually quite close to the truth.

After this speculation, Margaret no longer had any resentment towards Russell's housekeeper for still believing in false gods.

"Let's go and say hello to him." Russell whispered to Margaret, "Let's declare to the butler that you are my lover."

Margaret nodded, not thinking anything was wrong. On the contrary, she thought her Lord's arrangement was perfectly reasonable, and she had no intention of revealing her true identity to the housekeeper, who didn't know His true identity.

"Who, who is it?" The butler heard the footsteps and suddenly shouted.

The butler immediately drew his sword, his eyes sharp. His meticulous posture made him look invulnerable.

The butler was like an angry lion, staring fiercely at the church door, as if he was ready to attack at any time.

"Your butler is definitely a good swordsman, my lord." Margaret whispered.

Russell nodded slightly.

…………

After being knocked away, the Demon Centurion Trodal fell into the sea. He barely managed to pull out the spear that had caused serious damage to him, and let the heavy thing fall to the bottom of the sea.

It struggled to swim out of the sea, letting the waves wash over it. After doing all this, it finally fell into a coma under the impact of the severe pain brought by the sea water.

When Trodal awoke, it was already daybreak.

The violent roar of Nepirich, another demon centurion who was trapped in the acid swamp by its design, could be heard faintly.

Without the protection of the gray fog, his body suffered severe injuries, and coupled with the furious roars of his accomplices, Trodal felt the brutal and reckless side of his blood stirring.

No, that won't do. I can't be like those violent guys in Nepirich, who lose their sanity once they lose the protection of the Mist of Wisdom.

As a cunning demon, Trodal has always despised violent demons, believing them to be nothing more than savage and stupid beasts.