As long as the carrier is completely eliminated, Cursed Power cannot be re-transmitted into the camp through the air or soil at night, and sufficient isolation distance is an effective barrier to avoid the penetration of the night curse.
The dozens of miles of open space turned into a complete buffer zone between Cursed Power and the human campsite.
The ground is still emitting high temperatures after Dragonfire passes over it. When you step on it, the soles of your boots will make a slight sticking sound, like stepping on the surface of furnace ashes that has not yet completely cooled down.
The slave army had already begun to build tents and storage sheds in a safe area near the beach. They filled and compacted the sand that had been baked at high temperatures and had completely dried as the foundation of the camp.
Douglas directed some people to move the grain and dried meat from the cabin to the simple moisture-proof platform that had just been set up, covering it with layers of canvas and linen, keeping it away from the ground.
Others inserted wooden stakes outside the camp and connected them with thick ropes to delineate a clear safety boundary.
Oil lamps and torches gradually lit up in the camp, illuminating the rapidly forming temporary settlement into a warm yellow collection of light and shadow.
Redd walked around the perimeter of the camp in the evening.
The ground was still emitting residual warmth, and the heat slowly rising from below could be felt through the soles of the boots.
There is a faint burnt smell in the air, mixed with the salty smell of the sea breeze and the aftertaste of sulfur, like a bonfire that has just been forcibly extinguished but still keeps breathing weakly in the humid air.
The night was slowly closing over the sea. He glanced at the western skyline, then raised his head and looked at King Ghidorah hovering in the sky.
Redd made a voice to it in his heart, and King Ghidorah responded.
Its three heads turned in three directions at the same time, and then began a low-altitude circular patrol along the perimeter of the camp.
Its flying height is not high, and every time its huge wings flap, it stirs up a brief stream of hot air on the ground below.
It flew slowly along the edge of the burned clearing, and from time to time it made one or two low, long neighing sounds, as if it was sending a signal to this land and all the creatures on it.
Those creatures still exist.
Farther away where the flames had not touched, beyond the boundaries of the clearing, in the areas still covered by twisted vegetation, some living creatures were hiding in the shadows and cracks in the ground observing the sudden appearance of the charred isolation zone.
Most of them are not large in size, some resemble small ground reptiles, some are closer to birds in appearance, and some cannot be easily classified into any known category. Their outlines are blurred and distorted in the twilight, like burnt shadows seeping out from the Rift.
But among them, there were some larger beings who stopped at the edge of the shadow, turned their heads or bodies, and stared silently for a moment in the direction of the charred isolation zone and the hovering King Ghidorah, and then slowly retreated into deeper darkness.
Territoriality is an instinct engraved in the genes of most organisms.
The size and pressure of King Ghidorah are enough for most creatures to sense the weight of its existence before they get close. It is a kind of information that does not need to be transmitted through vision or hearing. Through the perception of air vibrations, air pressure changes and ground conduction vibrations, they have already received the signal that it is there.
While those creatures are parasitized by Cursed Power, their survival instincts have not completely disappeared. They will still have avoidance reactions to more powerful beings, and will still avoid areas that have left clear territorial marks on the ground and in the air.
King Ghidorah's low-altitude hovering and hissing are delineating this boundary. It uses its existence to mark the scorched open space as a restricted area. Those creatures that are watching from a distance will make their own choices before night falls completely.
Redd stood at the edge of the camp, watching the figure of King Ghidorah gradually turn into a clear-cut dark silhouette in the dusk. Its three heads rotated at different heights, sending out low and spaced warning sounds in three directions, including the boundaries of the earth and the sky into its patrol scope.
He stood there, watching the silhouette move slowly in the dim sky, feeling the marked calm that came from the ground and the air at the same time, like a well that finally penetrated the silt layer as it continued to be dug, and reached the point where the water level was stable and would not fall back again.
The night slowly pressed over from the end of the sea, like a thick cloth soaked in dark blue and dark gray.
It was pulled up bit by bit from the edge of the horizon, covering the sky, the clouds, and the outlines of the volcanoes in the distance that were still glowing orange-red.
As the light fades, it presents a gradually progressive sense of layering - first the farthest mountains lose their clear edges, and then the canyons in the middle are swallowed into shadow.
Finally, there is the ground around the camp. Even the scorched black land burned by Dragonfire has lost its clear outline during the day and turned into a gray-black extension that is barely discernible in weak light.
Redd stood on a bare hill.
This hill is not too high, with a drop of about ten feet from the edge of the camp to the top, but its location is right on the visual passage between the camp and the inland direction.
Standing here, you can see the entire camp to the north, and to the south you can see the volcanic peaks in the distance that still glow orange-red in the twilight.
To the west, you can see the sea at the entrance of the bay spreading out in the dimming light, and to the east, you can see a undulating hilly area that gradually becomes blurred in the night.
The ground beneath your feet is made of black volcanic rock, with a rough surface covered with fine cracks formed by repeated effects of weathering and thermal expansion and contraction. When you step on it, you can feel the ridges and depressions of those lines on the soles of your boots.
There is a relatively flat area on the top of the hill, with some debris peeled off by weathering accumulated on the edge.
Occasionally, a small loose stone would roll down in the night wind, hit the rock surface below with a crisp sound, and then be quickly swallowed up by the silence of the night.
He was still holding the Dark Sister, with the end of the scabbard touching the ground at his feet, and the hand holding the sword naturally hanging by his side.
The Valyrian steel sword became his side weapon after it was captured from Daemon. The blade was slightly narrower than the ordinary Longsword, but it was lighter and more balanced. It could change direction and turn faster than an ordinary iron sword in his hand.
After holding it for a long time, the leather sword hilt had become slightly concave to fit the shape of his hand. The dark metal on the hand guard reflected a very faint cold light in the last bit of skylight.