The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?!
Chapter 326 - 280 Fox Chapel

Chapter 326: Chapter 280 Fox Chapel

The monotonous whispering rose from every direction of the vineyard, and the dense footfall heralded the arrival of the "enthusiastic" villagers.

The Undead watched as the Planters who had rushed into the vineyard were armed with various farming tools, mainly scythes and axes, supplemented by hay forks and clubs.

Some Planters trembled as they tried to grab aphids; their clumsiness compounded by the lack of light in the vineyard made catching the bugs entirely dependent on luck.

The fact was no one succeeded, as the agile aphids were astonishingly fast, making it impossible to catch them.

He guessed that maybe these bug-catching Planters hadn’t started grabbing the aphids when they were fully grown but began when they were larvae, picking them up like bugs and then raising them gradually in sealed jars until they became aphids.

Otherwise, with the aphids capable of jumping several meters high, even the Great Knight wouldn’t necessarily be able to catch them.

But not everyone was cautious—some Planters were greedily picking up sour grapes from the ground and shoving them into their mouths, gulping them down whole.

It was taboo to pluck from the vines, but there was no harm in taking what lay on the ground.

Mixed with the taste of dirt, handfuls of sour grapes were stuffed into their mouths.

The Planters’ bellies visibly swelled at a rapid pace; if one were to strike with a cleaver, they would surely have burst, spilling plasma.

The grapes burst, juice squeezing out of their mouths.

Everyone was smeared with red juice on their faces, clothes, arms, and other parts.

He looked on with displeasure at this scene.

Holding the cleaver aloft, it was time for him to carve a path out.

The Undead moved with heavy steps, his weapon cleaving through the gale, as the bloodless villagers rushed at him in succession only to be swept away.

Collisions, broken bones, and wailings repeated incessantly.

The vineyard had descended into chaos, with aphids running rampant.

He felt he might have overlooked something, like why the Planters were breeding aphids, but he had grown bloodthirsty, and nothing was more important than the battle before him.

Bodies lay strewn about, and the bloodless corpses, with their clothes torn, revealed shriveled and emaciated bodies that curled up helplessly into tight balls.

He had leveled up!

This place was like a slaughterhouse of joy, the unending killing allowed the Undead to bask in the charm of slaughter, particularly as he became stronger amidst the carnage.

Only when he stopped and looked back did he realize, to his surprise, that he had successfully fought his way out.

It seemed as if the attacks that had surged toward him like a violent storm were merely a strong wind blowing in his face. All he had to do was grit his teeth and move forward, and he made it out against the wind.

There was a slight itch on his arm, and when he looked down he discovered an aphid clinging to his arm, sucking blood. The sight of the fat white bug on his arm startled him back into a state of clarity from his heated frenzy.

"Fuck!"

No desire for slaughter could compare with the fright of a big fat bug clinging to one’s arm.

The Undead quickly regained his composure and left the vineyard.

The commotion he had inadvertently caused drew in half of the spirited villagers from Fox Hole, making the path ahead surprisingly easy, encountering not a single enemy along the way.

An area ahead that looked somewhat familiar made him come to a realization, and he raised his voice slightly, "Edwin? Are you still there?"

"I Have an Early Eight?" The trembling voice asked in return.

"It’s me. I’ve found a safe place. Do you know Fox Hole Church?" He went over and moved the clutter hiding the ugly man, Edwin.

"Of course, but the filthy blood cannot enter," it seemed Edwin had thought about seeking help there before.

"Says who?"

"The lord Bishop of the church."

The last basket was moved aside, revealing Edwin’s hideous face. He still looked at the Undead with that prudently cautious gaze, always so careful.

"If the Bishop you’re talking about is the man in the white robe, there should be no problem now."

"Wha, what happened?" Edwin asked.

"He’s been hanged under the bridge, the one you pass by in Porcupine Alley."

"Oh no, he was just a bit harsh with words, refusing me entry to the church, but he would give me food," Edwin said with a look of sorrow.

The man before him might be ugly in appearance, yet he possessed an extremely kind and sensitive heart, which was why the Undead was willing to communicate with and even help him.

"Let’s go, I’ll take you there, the road is very safe now." He supported Edwin.

The journey was incredibly long and had they encountered any monsters on the way, it would have immediately turned into an escort mission. Fortunately, the game was not so inconsiderate, and their path was calm without any monsters respawning to obstruct them.

Fox Hole Church.

With distinctive Fox Hole architectural grandeur that favored broad doors over the slender, tapering towers, those two heavy doors first caught their attention.

Without the light of fire, the environment around the grand doors of Fox Hole Church was not very clear, likely adorned with many complex patterns or stories of religious deities.

I Have an Early Eight supported Edwin up the stone steps, then let go of Edwin.

He walked to the front of the church doors of his own accord and pushed hard with both hands.

The rumbling sound of grinding stone coupled with the creaking of door hinges announced the heavy doors swinging open.

Light from inside the church shone through, casting its glow on the two of them from the slit of the door that had been opened.

"Quick, come in!"

The capricious, dancing flames lit up the entire church. Atop the church hung a massive chandelier, with two rows of tall columns engraved with the statues of Beasts.

The church presented a strange sense of narrowness and soaring height.

At the higher levels were windows through which the moonlight barely illuminated areas the firelight did not reach, complex carvings and patterns giving the Undead an eerie feeling akin to confronting some primitive, savage deity.

Those patterns were certainly more than mere decorations; perhaps delving deeper might reveal hidden layers of stories.

He had this intuition but also knew that as a game, cluttering every pattern with metaphors and background stories would result in a terrifying volume of text, and sacrificing tens of thousands of programmers might not be sufficient.

The huge columns and wall sculptures drew his gaze. There were no foxes to be seen, but snakes, rats, lions, and other animals, coiling and entwining with one another or engaging in mutual predation.

Others were mating indiscriminately across species barriers.

This almost primitive form of worship made him feel mentally uneasy.

With a boom, the church doors closed automatically.

The firelight was completely shut inside, and the Undead could finally take a closer look at the patterns, feeling he might find some metaphors or guidance within them.

But considering his current situation, it would be best to restrain this thought and wait for daylight to explore further.

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