Your Majesty's money, why don't you engrave my name on it?

“Listen, brother,” seeing that the other party neither made a move nor retreated, Raslaufer drew his sword from the ground and took two steps forward. “I have no interest in you. If it weren’t for their exorbitant prices and arrogant attitude, I wouldn’t have bothered with a single hair on their head. For the sake of the two ‘people of yours’ I’ve met before, disperse. I’m in a good mood today after making a big profit, and I don’t intend to kill anyone.”

"You killed someone, huh! You don't even deserve to..." The burly man was about to utter a few harsh words when, in the next second, he suddenly collapsed to his knees and knelt on the ground!

"What, you don't believe me?"

Raslaufer looked at him, seemingly unchanged from a moment ago, but the burly man could clearly sense a certain aura, an aura only a ruthless executioner could possess—a utter disregard for human life. Anyone can die, and no one can escape death.

Under such circumstances, even a petty thug who has killed a few people cannot withstand such attention.

"I believe... I believe!" The burly man, having regained his senses, felt that this was too embarrassing. He tried twice before he could stand up again, but just as he was about to tell his men to disperse, his fat body suddenly jolted and turned around again.

"I have only one last question for you. Answer me, and you will be free to come and go as you please. I can even prepare the best taverns and rooms for you!"

"You just said you saw two of 'our people,' what did they look like?"

"The spotted cat-man is half cat and half human, and his whole body is covered in fur."

"Where did they go?!"

The burly man's sudden increase in volume made everyone's hearts sink: Sistine and her brother hadn't mentioned where they had encountered danger after leaving, and they never expected it to be here!

“That’s the second question, which I don’t have to answer, and you have no right to ask,” Leslaufer snorted. “Get out of the way!”

“Well, alright,” the burly man shrank his neck, then immediately put on a fawning expression, “Then allow me to prepare the best tavern and rooms for you. You have come from afar, so please be sure to rest well here.”

“No need for that. We have a car now, no need to stay here any longer.” Leslaufer pointed his thumb behind him. “See? Make way, we need to go through!”

“I see… then I’m afraid that won’t work,” the burly man’s face suddenly turned pale, all his smile and fear vanished in an instant, like bubbles in the wind, and his eyes rolled upwards, turning completely gray. “You can say it here and leave, or you can say it after you come with us—in any case, we need to know the whereabouts of those two cats!”

Chapter 278 Granny Nightingale

"A shapeshifter!"

"If you mean the one disguised as the two siblings, I've already killed them!" Leslaufer swung his sword, shoving the shapeshifter that had suddenly launched an attack into the earthen wall beside him. But more shapeshifters revealed their true forms and charged at Leslaufer like madmen!

"Get out of my way, or die here!" Raslaufer grabbed the end of his greatsword and swung it like a warhammer. As another shapeshifter approached, a fire arrow shot from behind, burning through the attacker's shoulder.

"We're not just one person!" Feng Da'er roared. He was willing to risk everything for those minerals, let alone facing these shapeshifting monsters who had usurped his territory. "You bunch of noseless bastards!"

"You shorty!" came a retort from the shapeshifters, but before she could put her verbal skills to use, Angrita had already rushed into the shapeshifters like a whirlwind. Her every move seemed to follow a subtle pattern, so that her opponents were knocked down before they could even touch the hem of her clothes.

Chaos erupted instantly, but what puzzled Raslaufer, at the center of the vortex, was that not all the townspeople who had remained outside had been switched by the shapeshifters, given the sheer number of shapeshifters. Instead of fleeing, they charged forward alongside the shapeshifters, blending into the crowd to ambush them.

What is the reason for this? Is it simply a case of being robbed and thus feeling a sense of shared hatred?

"Yes, kids, go! Kill them!"

Meanwhile, in a forest to the north, a withered and ugly giant humanoid creature stood hunched over by a stinking pond, the murky water reflecting everything that was happening in the town of Ersore.

Between the creature's claws, a dark pouch, resembling human skin sewn together, was greedily opening its mouth, seemingly devouring something intangible and intangible.

"Eat, eat, eat your fill!" A disgusting, insatiable smile appeared on the creature's already twisted and rotten face. "Each soul pouch can only hold one soul? I have to torture it to death myself for it to count? Bullshit!"

"It would take a living person a whole week to sew and mend a soul bag, making me look like a fool!"

"But if I use my method, within a few years, I will become the richest soul merchant! The richest one!"

A pair of jet-black eyes, devoid of any white, shifted their gaze from a large chunk of rotting flesh upon hearing the sound. The emaciated creature disdainfully flapped its clipped wings, then shook its tail, now reduced to its stubby base, before suddenly letting out a piercing scream:

"You're breaking the rules, and you'll get your comeuppance, Granny Nightingale! You disgusting old witch, Barbasabalon despises you!"

“Despise yourself, you little thing,” a cold snort came from the Nightingale’s long nose. “If you hate me so much, why don’t you spread your wings and go back to hell? Is it because you don’t want to? You like being with me, don’t you?”

"You, you're talking nonsense!" The little devil clapped his hands angrily, but it was no use at all. "You cut off Barbasabalon's wings and tail, but one day, Barbasabalon will break free, and then, then I'll pee on your stinking, rotting corpse and drown your soul again!"

“Go on, then keep trying,” Granny Nightingale mocked absentmindedly. “You can definitely do it, can’t you? As long as you concentrate, you can escape my birdcage magic circle and stop singing for me with your filthy mouth. Come on, you can definitely do it. Hehehehehehe!”

Barbasabalon continued his tirade, but it was to no avail. The damned hag took insults as praise and his most vulgar profanities as melodious singing. To do the opposite would only earn him a beating.

And this witch will be very, very careful not to kill it, not to let it suffer the slightest harm, lest it run back to hell—Barbasabalon can't even hurt himself!

"You should be grateful, after all, your previous demon master sold you to me instead of abandoning you in the abyss. You would be in a much worse situation now," Granny Nightingale chuckled. "You'll be my little nightingale forever. Granny doesn't want to talk to those foolish sisters anymore, but I'm all alone and really lack company... Hmm?!"

The old hag suddenly widened her eyes in disbelief. She had watched a shapeshifter die at the hands of the mercenary, killed with his right hand. But when she shook her soul pouch, the soul inside was not the one she had just killed!

What happened? Is it broken? Or is it full?

But the continued influx of souls into the bag in small groups indicated that this specially modified soul bag was still usable and effective; any soul she had corrupted would be absorbed...

Another one is gone. It was the same mercenary who killed him, but this time it was a civilian.

"Great!" the little devil shouted excitedly, "Looks like you're missing more than one companion! I knew this thing of yours wasn't very useful!"

"It's working perfectly!" The hag grabbed a fist-sized rock and hurled it at the little devil, hitting it squarely between the eyebrows. Despite being knocked down, Barbasabalon continued its near-death laughter and mockery, "No, it's not! Foolish hag, you've missed two—now it's three, four!"

“You’ll be the fifth!” the witch roared in fury. “I’d love to! Come and kill me!” Barbasabalon retorted sharply, “You are nothing, your smugness is nothing but your final lament before your doom!”

Although the number of souls in the soul bag was still increasing, Granny Nightingale had completely lost the joy and complacency of her successful plot. She impatiently opened the bag and placed it by the pool to let it work on its own. She then stepped over the skeletons of druids on the ground and went straight to a white skull that she had impaled on a stake but which was still alive.

"Wake up, you old man!" Rough claws slammed against the skull until two pale blue will-o'-the-wisps lit up between the eye sockets. "There's something wrong with what you gave me!"

“If there were no problems, I wouldn’t have been defeated by you, my dear sister,” the skull said without any movement, but its voice was clear and unmistakable. “You must perfect it yourself. I will not continue to make a deal with you unless you are willing to resurrect me.”

"You killed me to resurrect me?" Granny Nightingale sneered, sticking out two fingers to poke at his eye sockets. After a scream, the two ghostly flames disappeared, and the skull seemed to have lost all its spirituality. "Go back to sleep, you useless fellow."

"It seems... I'll have to go there myself to find out what really happened."

Chapter 279 The Poet on Night Duty

One of the few streets in Ersore had been almost completely ravaged by blood, and when Raslaufer stopped his greatsword, there was hardly anyone left besides his companions.

“Many of them are shapeshifters, but most are just ordinary people,” Vondahl said, dropping his axe and plopping down on the ground. “What have we all done…”

“If you pick up a weapon, you should be prepared to die in battle,” Leslaufer scoffed. “They could have chosen not to, just as they could have honestly set a reasonable price: twelve Imperial gold coins for a sword.”

"Let's find a place to rest at the other end of town. No one will charge us for lodging anymore."

"Why are these ordinary people getting involved, joining the Rangers in attacking us?" Margaret, pale-faced, gripped her dagger and murmured, "There could be many different explanations, but... why?"

“A typical militia member is considered competent if they can avoid collapsing when their casualties drop to 20%, and mercenaries will start to waver when the casualties around them drop to around 30%. Those who can exceed this limit can be called elite troops,” Raslaufer said without turning around. “But these guys are actually going to fight to the last one? I’m not going to take everything from the whole town. I really don’t understand why they’re fighting so hard.”

"What did they think this was, a religious war?"

If it's a fight for faith, then it would indeed turn out this way. Leslaufer knew of a group of Ampiri mercenaries who spontaneously went to Kolasund to fight a holy war, and all of them died in a fierce battle, while their opponents were almost all wiped out there as well.

But these people?

Since they could no longer question any locals, Leslaufer and his team had to find a slightly larger house to stay in for the night before continuing their journey.

The quiet night in the deserted town sends a chill down your spine, no matter how exhausted you are—especially when you know exactly what caused this outcome.

"Annie, you go to sleep first, I'll take this night shift."

Angelita turned her head and saw Daisy rubbing her eyes, pulling up a chair and sitting down at the table.

Five beds were arranged in a row along the wall on the second floor, while Black Claw slept below by the door. The shift watchmen's table and chairs were placed in the second-floor window, where, by the light of the lanterns and the light-enhancing windows, they could clearly see everything around them.

"Can't sleep?" "I'm having a bit of insomnia. Don't worry, I'll wake Bella if I can't stay awake any longer."

Angelita nodded, picked up her longsword, and walked towards the empty bed. But as she tried to fall asleep, Daisy's mind began to race.

"Zhengling, are you really sure there's a demon lurking around here?"

"It's not necessarily a devil, but a demon. I'm not sure what it is exactly, but it certainly has the aura of purgatory. Your friends will have a hard time detecting that lurking creature, so you'll have to keep an eye on it."

“Got it,” Daisy yawned. “Honestly, my biological clock is almost back to normal in this world. It’s going to be a bit difficult for me to be the champion of staying up all night again.”

Daisy received a dismissive reply from the other end of her mind link: "A bunch of people living in the wilderness, what kind of biological clock do they have?"

The bard rolled her eyes. She spread her hands, and a stack of phantom cards appeared out of thin air. She tossed them from her left hand to her right, then flicked them back to her left hand one by one. "Could you teach me that spell you told me about before? I think I'm almost there."

"Are you sure?" The devil's voice sounded somewhat mocking. "According to your theory, you haven't even learned a few third-circle spells yet, so you can't learn that."

"Stop talking nonsense. I think I have a big advantage. Most importantly, I think I've found the song that corresponds to the spell." Daisy flipped her hands, and the playing cards that didn't exist in reality disappeared instantly. "It's just calling someone's name. There are a lot of these kinds of scenes in some works."

“You can handle this yourself. The most important thing is not how many scenes there are, but that you can immediately associate the music with the corresponding spell,” Zheng Ling said. “In other words, if a piece of music makes you think a lot, you’d better switch to a more targeted one until you can completely control your music and thoughts.”

"This spell comes from an ancient emerald dragon, allowing you to aim a psionic spear at almost any creature you see. Even if you can't see the target, you can activate the spell by calling out its name—but that's a minor detail. Generally speaking, if you can't even see who your enemy is, you're unlikely to be able to accurately call out their name unless you've obtained this clue using other spells beforehand..."

Over the past period, Daisy's astonishing learning ability, coupled with Zhengling's help, allowed her to greatly expand her spell list. However, perhaps due to some invisible barrier, she clearly struggled when she began learning the level one fireball spell. And after understanding the principles of higher-level spells, no matter how hard she tried, she found it difficult to truly grasp their essence. This attempt also seemed futile, serving little purpose other than helping her stay alert.

"Daisy!"

Suddenly, the devil's call jolted the poet from his reverie: "Something is approaching, just as I said. Open your heart, and I'll lend you a pair of eyes!"

Upon hearing this, Daisy closed her eyes. When she opened them again a moment later, her eyes had turned into pure, flawless black. Everything around her was shrouded in a hazy mist from the poet's perspective, but the hidden things became exceptionally clear.

This gift of ability is openly referred to by Zhengling as a "sweetness." The devil's lawful nature compels them to act according to the rules; otherwise, even mortals can file a lawsuit in the hell court and demand a trial.

Therefore, without a contract, these sweet treats cannot bring her any benefit. Only when Daisy truly makes a contract with the devil will they become part of a debt with interest.

This time, however, Daisy's acquired demonic vision did not provide her with a sufficiently effective view. She could only sense that something had passed over the undetectable black claws on the first floor and was slowly moving up to the second floor, but she could not see its exact location at all.

Instinctively, Daisy was about to scream to wake the others, but Zhengling's words made her calm down and sit still in the chair.

"Don't rush. No wonder you can't detect it right now—it's currently moving through the etheric plane. You have to wait until it reveals its true nature before you make your move."

Chapter 280 The Witch's Night Raid

"What is that, a Night Howler?"

Daisy's muscles tensed up involuntarily. She had heard of the Aether Surface; not to mention the creatures living in it, even those that could travel through it were few and far between.

“Not a hound, but a demon, didn’t I tell you?” Zheng Ling said. “Hmm…it looks like she might be a night ghost.”

"If that's the case... then everything might make sense."

"A witch?" Daisy's eyes widened, but no matter how closely she observed, she couldn't make out the creature's appearance. "Is it one of those witch monsters who likes to subvert people's minds?"

“Witches wouldn’t like you calling them that,” Zheng Ling chuckled. “But it’s true, night witches are different from the common green witches. What they love most is to overturn and destroy everything positively: love turns into trouble, friendliness into hatred, passion into indifference, and generosity into selfishness. They derive endless pleasure from this, and both devils and demons are happy to see it happen.”

"But that's not why the devil and the Night Witch are close." "The soul."

“Yes, souls. The Night Witch loves collecting the souls of the corrupted. They infiltrate dreams, silently corrupting and eroding their targets. When the victim dies, she can collect the soul in her prepared soul pouch and take it to other dimensions to do business. However…”

"As far as I know, soul bags are not easy to make, and each one can only hold one soul. What does it mean that she has corrupted and controlled everyone in the town, including the shapeshifters? Her appetite is far too great."

If she only wanted henchmen, the Night Witch could have used other unusual but perfectly feasible methods, which were exactly what these ugly monsters excelled at.

“She certainly has a big appetite; she doesn’t even spare us passersby.” Daisy had already noticed that the hazy figure had stopped in front of everyone’s bed. She didn’t dare to stare at the figure for too long, but a strange fragrance entered her nostrils, and the drowsy feeling was amplified infinitely.

However, just as she was about to fall into a deep sleep, the transparent pendant on her chest became warm, and about one-tenth of the fairy dust inside disappeared. This price made the bard wake up instantly, and he was no longer sleepy at all.

"Pretend to be asleep, don't expose yourself!" Zhengling's warning startled the poet. She yawned exaggeratedly and then slammed her head on the table.

Grandma Nightingale looked away strangely. For some reason, the little girl seemed to have a special resistance to her sedative dust. However, the good news was that she only lasted for two or three seconds longer before finally collapsing onto the table obediently.

However, to be on the safe side, it's best to ignore her and find the man who killed the most during the day first—she could smell the evil aura on him even before entering the town. To figure out what's going on with him, the process of corruption can be skipped.

The old hag touched her large nose, which resembled a dagger stuck in her face, and a silent smile appeared on her toothless mouth. "Come on, little darling, let me see where you hid the one-fifth of my predetermined soul that you swallowed?"

"One-fifth of the reserved souls?!" Daisy slumped onto the table, a storm raging in her heart. "Those people during the day—"

“They are all part of the souls she pre-ordered, without a doubt,” Zheng Ling snorted. “But I still don’t understand how she did it. It takes a week to prepare a soul bag. If she really wanted to do this, she’s probably been preparing for almost six years! And she would have to kill an equal number of people as material for the soul bags first!”

"But isn't she afraid that such a large-scale, one-off action will be discovered by the druids in the woods over there? No matter what sect the druids belong to, they would absolutely not tolerate this kind of behavior!"

“Unless… those bags were made by that druid.” Daisy broke out in a cold sweat at her own conjecture. “If that’s the case, wouldn’t she be terrifyingly powerful?”

“Every hag is terrifyingly powerful, Daisy. Don’t confuse these monsters with ordinary creatures. The most powerful hags don’t even respect the gods,” Zheng Ling said.

"Hopefully this guy isn't one of them."

"She went to Old Lei!"

But then, that night, the witch crept stealthily onto the bed and straddled the mercenary. At that moment, her form, hidden in the ethereal plane, was finally revealed, but at the same time, an ominous, rotting color shone from her claws.

"Hmph, sleeping so soundly," the hag sneered maliciously, pointing a finger at Leslaufer's forehead. "Let me give you some nightmares, and see if you can still sleep so peacefully!"

The old hag, who assumed she was the only sane person in town, made no attempt to hide her intentions, or rather, she was used to being domineering and had never been accustomed to such behavior. However, all of this led to her suffering a considerable loss.

"Ok?"

The claw, imbued with magical touch, was bounced back, causing the Night Witch to pause in surprise. Unconvinced, she pressed down again. "You brat, you actually have this kind of protection? Let me see just how sturdy it is!"

Two times, three times, five times… With each failed attempt, Granny Nightingale began to break out in a cold sweat—this mortal couldn't be haunted by nightmares? How could that be! Even those priests! Those druids! Or any spellcaster, none could escape her grasp after she made contact!

Could it be that this man is even more evil than she is? Or that he doesn't have nightmares at all? What an absurd guess!

One last time! The Night Demon Granny made up her mind and raised her claws to strike again. However, this time, it caused the Night Demon Granny to let out a scream that pierced through the clouds and shattered rocks!

Beneath her, the man who had been unconscious suddenly opened his icy blue eyes, and at the same time raised his right hand and cruelly broke off one of her fingers!