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“He is timid. I heard about the legend of this graveyard, but there are many strange things floating around in the woods. Every year people are killed in this neighborhood.” Little Phineas is quite disdainful. Answered.

“Not so terrifying, it’s just to lie to outsiders, because some people want to use this layer of clothing to do illegal activities here – murder, secret trading, whispering in the forest are conspiracy and poison, in fact, these old monks are the clearest “After listening to Little Phineas, Dean smiled and replied: “As long as someone pays, he doesn’t care if we want What are you doing.”

“But they are not afraid…?” Even though she has seen a lot, Freya still can’t believe it.

“These are all public secrets, tombs and trafficking of bodies, and even Necromancer secretly bought bodies from the monks as research materials. There is a huge underground black market. Can those monks not know?”

Freya vomited one breath, some disgusted: “It’s a god.”

“Necromancers also believes in Marsha, isn’t that so?” Dean replied intently.

Freya frowns glanced at him. The teenager realized that he seemed to be wrong. He added: “The monks are inextricably linked to the Holy Cathedral of Fire. Even the noble is not willing to provoke them, say nobles. There are family tombs, they are not willing to intervene, and we can do anything else. Those Necromancer are mostly members of the grey area, and most people can’t offend them.”

Freya knows that he is telling the truth, although he is not happy to listen, but only frowned, there is no opening, she bites her teeth tightly, and she is worried that if the old monk appears in front of her again, she will ask her to pull the sword and pierce it. Cool heart.

There was no expression on Brando’s face. Dean said that these things are commonplace, but there is no danger in this graveyard. The normal place will be like a foggy, sulky atmosphere here. , visibility does not exceed ten meters? Surrounded by the surrounding forest, as if the sun could not penetrate, it was just after noon, but the graveyard seemed to be very late in the evening – and it was still cloudy. The supernatural mystery comes from the underground, there is a larger graveyard, Bruglas’s underground Public Graveyard, which is full of dangers and full of Wight and active bones. Since the roaring years, not many people dare to enter the bottom.

But that was not their purpose today. He asked Amandina to him: “Amandina, are you sure you are here?”

The temperature in the graveyard dropped a few degrees below the outside. Amandina’s face was a little bit cold. She replied in a shawl and whispered: “The neighborhood in the vicinity has been demolished as early as 20 years ago. For the graveyard, but I heard that my parents had rented the house and they were lucky enough to keep it. There is a gravekeeper who lives there.”

“There are still gravekeepers here?” Freya was a little surprised, and she thought that the place was only after the law and of natural morality.

“At least nominally,” Amandina after all is a native, what Dean said, she actually heard more or less, but she didn’t want to open that’s all, she frowned. “I heard that he helped. Those who robbed the tombs carried the bodies out and operated the unseen industry.”

“Industry.” Freya almost fainted.

Brando heard her biting her teeth.

After not long, they found the house where the tomb guard lived. Amandina also kept the direction in memory. Dean actually found the place – they passed through the lush forest and the tombstones. A two-story, high-reading wooden house appeared in the fog, standing alone in the depths of the forest. Dean contacted the tomb guard early, and the cemetery naturally didn’t know Brando’s identity, but I heard that there was a noble, thinking that I had a big deal, and I had already respected it.

The cemetery is called the old slicker. The real name has long been forgotten. Like the bones buried in the ground, he looks exactly like the image of this kind of experience in Brando’s mind. It is simply thought to have encountered a living one. Wight – hunched back, hunched back, and the stranger Casimodo in the Holy Mother’s Court in Paris has the same effect, but the latter has a noble spirit, the former is only full of bad water; it is difficult to see his Age, full of pleats, but the eyes are still alive, as if turning the sinister thoughts at the moment, the top of the head has been thankful, and there are still a few sparse squats, as if the woods in this fog are shrinking. And replica.