"Woooooooo..."
The wind kept blowing through the branches, making an eerie sound.
The badge that just stopped when Hellhound died now continues to tremble.
In the dark environment, a thin figure emerged from under the ancient tree.
The tattered linen hood covered half of his face, revealing two bottomless eye sockets from which resentment overflowed.
The exposed gray skin is like sun-dried sheepskin stretched tightly over the bones, and each rib can be clearly seen.
It has no legs and the whole person is suspended in the air.
The lower jaw opened to an extremely exaggerated angle, as if it was about to be dislocated, and a long red tongue spit out from between the yellowed and decayed teeth.
"Ah!!!"
The sharp sound makes the eardrums vibrate.
Arwen took a step forward and pinched Yrden Sign with his left hand.
"Wait..." Holt raised his hand to stop him, "It doesn't seem to have the intention to attack us."
Sure enough, the demon spirit's body circled the trunk of the ancient tree and continued upwards, shuttling between the boots hanging from the branches.
"Boots... boots..."
The demon spirit made a hoarse and unpleasant sound from its mouth.
He immediately increased his speed and flew to the side of Arwen and Holt.
The cold and decaying breath hit my face.
Its dark eyes first stared at the gray leather boots under Holt's feet, and then moved to the black spiked boots of Arwen.
His tone became urgent.
"Boots... boots..."
With that said, it flew around the two of them and flew back to the foot of the ancient tree.
While lingering, he kept repeating the words he put in his mouth.
Holt crossed his arms, "Demon spirits often appear from the gathering of resentments, boots..."
Arwen observed carefully and quickly discovered a clue.
This demon spirit's path around the ancient tree is different every time, but it always returns to the same starting point.
Moreover, that place was also the location where the demon spirit first emerged.
Thinking of this, he stepped forward, put his right hand over his shoulder, and drew out the giant sword.
"Hum!"
The blade of the giant sword penetrates the earth, conveying a feeling of relaxation.
Holt is coming soon.
"There's something down there."
Later in the night.
There is a pit of about one meter in front of the ancient tree.
Arwen clapped his hands and dusted off the dirt.
There was a white skeleton buried in the pit, and all his clothes had rotted into disgrace. Only the boot on his left foot, although it had a few holes, was still relatively well preserved.
"Boots... boots..."
The demon spirit flew down, his tone full of surprise and urgency.
Holt holds a silver sword in his hand, isolated between the two of them.
"Boots! Boots!"
The demon spirit's voice became louder.
Arwen squatted down and took off the boots from the bones.
"Huh?"
A long silver object slipped out from it.
Picking it up, it was a silver-white dagger, with dark brown markings still remaining on the blade, which were stains of dried blood.
Reversing the dagger, his cat eyes condensed.
On the other side of the blade, a black flying bird is engraved on the guard.
Legless bird.
"Buzz buzz..."
The sound of insects chirping and flapping their wings kept ringing.
The terrifying body of the demon spirit began to disappear, emitting countless silvery-white light spots, and finally condensed again, turning into the shadow of a man.
The man looked about forty years old and was wearing a black and white dress.
There was confusion in his illusive eyes.
"You... who are you?"
He looked into the eyes of Arwen and Holt, and then suddenly said, "Cat eyes? Oh, you are demon hunters?"
Apart from being a little surprised, the man's tone of voice did not have the tone of disdain that ordinary nobles would have for witchers.
Arwen and Holt did not respond.
The man was not angry, "That's not surprising, you have always been taciturn."
"My name is Mitchell Forrester, the butler of Marquis Grafiakan. I'm very happy to meet you."
As he spoke, he leaned down and saluted with a very graceful movement.
It is rare these days to meet someone who is so polite to a witcher.
Although the other party is not from this era.
Arwen presented the dagger in his hand in front of the man.
"Mitchell, do you remember what this is?"
Mitchell After seeing this object clearly, Xuanhuang's body began to tremble.
"This... this dagger...Earl...Earl Grafiakan!"
"Kind witchers, have you seen Young Earl Grafiakan?"
Arwen saw Mitchell looking so nervous, "It is now Resurrection Day 1230, and the Earl Grafiakan you are talking about is already dead."
"Wha... what!? Little Earl is dead!"
Mitchell screamed, then held his head in his hands, his tone full of sadness and regret.
"1230? Yes, it has been more than forty years. Little Earl is dead, and so am I... I am also dead..."
His body began to twist, and resentment once again pushed his soul closer to the demon spirit.
"Calm down," Arwen cast a Axii Sign, forcibly calming the opponent's emotions.
"We are here to investigate the cause of death of little Earl. Mr. Butler, you have to help us."
Mitchell's twisted body began to become still, looking at him in disbelief, "You... are you really willing to help me?"
"No, I don't believe it. You don't dare. When you hear his name, you are like a hare under a falcon. You immediately ran into a hole and hid."
Arwen said directly, "Atamont, the dean of Ban Ade College, right?"
Mitchell Hearing this name, his body instinctively stopped.
"You... you know him? Are you not afraid of him?"
Holt crossed his arms and said, "It's not far from dawn. You'd better stop gossiping."
Mitchell lowered his head and pursed his lower lip, "Little Earl... little Earl died in my hands, but... but I couldn't control myself at the time."
When Arwen and Holt heard this, their cat eyes lit up.
"Little Earl is the only son of the Marquis. The Marquis died young, and Lady Cevahir was a doting mother. Earl developed a lawless temper. I don't know how many troubles he got into. It was me who wiped his butt."
"Forty years ago, little Earl went to the uplink target with his escort, saying he wanted to understand the public sentiment."
"As always, I am taking care of my work in the Marquis's Palace."
"A wizard from Ban Ade Academy of Magic suddenly came to visit."
"Due to Atamont, wizards often come around the house, and I'm used to it."
"Only this time, the wizard brought a letter and the dagger in your hand."
"The letter was written by Atamont. He speculated that little Earl's life would be in danger, but he couldn't leave due to academic research, so he asked me to take this magic dagger to protect little Earl."
"At that time, Atamont doted on little Earl as if he were his own child, but he was unable to have children."
"I chose to believe in this great wizard and headed non-stop to the location of little Earl."
"Then... then I saw little Earl whipping the serfs, and I felt angry inside. I... I really just wanted to go up and ask him to calm down and stop this behavior."
"My consciousness seemed to be controlled by someone... I... I put on my hood and put an iron sword at the door of the tavern behind my back."
"I... I stepped forward... with the dagger in my hand, I stabbed it hard into little Earl's abdomen... and then pulled it out, I... I hurt him!"
"I started to run away, but the guards just let me go as if they didn't see me."
"I ran all the way here, under this ancient alder tree."
"At that time, the summer solstice had just passed, and I was covered in cold sweat."
"I didn't know what I should do. I looked at the dagger in my hand and was stunned."
"I knew I was being set up, so... so I stuffed this dagger into my boot."
"Then... the sky turned dark red, and Atamont was wearing a purple wizard robe, suspended in the air."
"He is here to kill people and silence them. I hate it so much..."