The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?!
Chapter 440 - 370 [Twilight Believer·Night Demon Girl]

Chapter 440: Chapter 370 [Twilight Believer·Night Demon Girl]

The grass rustled and trembled, as the monster that had been pestering Fuller for three consecutive nights finally showed itself.

It was a Mutated Wolf with a somewhat disgusting appearance.

Its desire to attack was strong.

"A corrupted Gale Wolf, what is this thing?" An Undead cleaved the charging monster with a single sword strike.

This was a slaughter.

"Could it be something that ran out from the Abyss?" An excited Undead exclaimed.

Fuller, who had always remained silent, pricked up his ears. His heart was in tumult, this was supposed to be a simple mission; they weren’t supposed to encounter any creatures from the Abyss of the Great Rift. He consoled himself with this thought.

In contrast to his alarm, the Undead reveled in the slaughter, yielding a good haul of Calamity Shards and many items labelled as "materials," filling their pockets.

However, the harvest was somewhat bloody; at such times, they had to switch to a special mode.

From removing heads to plucking cabbages.

Fuller watched the Undead joking and laughing as they dismembered the snarling Gales just a second before, his heart pounding like a drum.

After daylight broke, they continued their journey. As for the Gale Wolf’s tongue, it looked rather like a reproductive organ, and while everyone was used to eating bull and pig penises, a penis in the mouth was still revolting.

As a "Thief," Fuller had an exceptionally strong sense of direction.

Following the map, they came to a cliff.

He lightly scraped the edge of the cliff with his foot, and a pebble, nudged by the tip of his boot, rolled down into the bottomless abyss, seemingly hammering on Fuller’s heart.

He instinctively stepped back a few paces.

Fuller was not familiar with the geography of the Rand Kingdom, and with the apocalypse, the terrain had changed, considerably reducing the reliability of the old maps.

The map did not show this cliff; it must have formed recently.

Looking down, he saw swirling mists, and according to the Crystal Mage’s map, moving forward was the way to the frontline fortress of the Great Rift.

Gazing into the distance, hundreds of meters of redwoods formed a dark sea of trees that easily swallowed one’s consciousness the moment the gaze settled on them.

Fortunately, the village they were headed for did not require going forward. Instead, they would turn at the hillock ahead and then spot a pathway made entirely of branches and vines after a short walk.

The map did not record the existence of this wooden vine pathway. Clearly, it had undergone significant changes since the Crystal Mage left.

They struggled to squeeze through.

Fuller used his dagger to cut through the obstructing vines as the visibility darkened. Finally, after a tiring journey, they emerged into a relatively open area.

In front of them was a makeshift village, with houses made entirely of wood and mud putty, bearing an architectural style not of the Rand Kingdom, as if built for temporary shelter from the wind and rain.

Then a stench rushed over, making Fuller involuntarily cover his nose and mouth, yet the stench stung his eyes, causing a sensation of swelling in his eyeballs.

The buzzing of the flies attracted Fuller’s attention.

Gigantic flies, as large as the pad of a thumb, circled nonstop around his head, forcing him to release the hand covering his mouth and nose to wave them away.

"This is perhaps the village noted in the records," Fuller said.

The Undead were equally disgusted.

Fuller spoke, "We should knock on the doors and take a look."

No sooner had Fuller spoken than the Undead swarmed out, for they were professionals at searching houses and scavenging through trash.

Fuller hadn’t forgotten his job, though he was already dizzy and nauseous from the meat-eating flies and desperately wanted to leave the place.

The muddy ground was filled with many buried bodies, thankfully none human.

He stabbed two meat-eating flies to death with his short blade, and then watched in horror as the other meat-eating flies swarmed and devoured their fallen comrades. Fuller had no choice but to quicken the slicing of his blade, using it to keep the carnivorous flies at bay.

"My lord, we’ve found something!"

Hearing the voices of the undead, Fuller hurried over, and then he saw that the undead had many bite marks on their bodies.

He watched as flesh-eating flies gnawed on an undead, and after the undead calmly smacked the fly dead, it took out a potion and poured it into its mouth.

This scene deeply affected Fuller.

The undead had picked up a lot of garbage, but they were only willing to hand a letter over to Fuller.

"What is that?"

"A painting." The undead seemed reluctant, but the painting was just too big, like a shield.

[Twilight Believer · Night Demon Girl: Artist Boyd had once come to this place in search of the Twilight Pool legend, and he recorded his encounter with the Night Demon Girl with his brush, armor defensive power +10]

Carrying this thing on their backs, their armor’s defensive power soared, it was a treasure for the undead.

Fuller couldn’t see what was special about the painting, but he had heard of Boyd, the noble painter, who would paint things that pleased the people.

The blue-skinned girl in the painting was very beautiful.

Fuller returned the painting to the undead, and then took the letter.

"Dear Zina,

I must leave the village before the tide rises. Everyone here is heading deeper inland; it’s not safe to stay. Besides, I’m very interested in the evil past of those people. It would be very fun to paint the demons in their hearts, haha. But I don’t recommend you come to find me. I’ve heard that some there have a taste for Griffin Fortress folks.

— Boyd."

"Zina?" Fuller looked behind the undead, where there was a skeleton, but it was definitely not decomposed, but rather gnawed on by something.

Those damn flesh-eating flies!

"We need to keep going deeper," Fuller said, and he already knew what the tide meant.

There was black, sticky mud beneath that white bridge; he wasn’t sure what would happen if it was touched. The best choice was to avoid it at all costs.

They crossed the white bridge safely, the undead even specially chose the highest building in the village to place a scout guard.

"All clear!"

Fuller envied their ability to find joy amid hardship, but if he too could die endlessly and resurrect infinitely, he might be even braver than them. Unfortunately, he only had one life.

As they progressed deeper, the light grew dimmer, and there were fewer flesh-eating flies, but the stench grew stronger.

Unease increased in his heart, and suddenly, a dark shadow emerged from ahead.

"Time for action, brothers!" The undead charged forward proactively.

It was a monster with writhing flesh on its body, skinless, with a pair of long horns on its head. When it ran, it even created gales that accidentally knocked over some undead.

Fuller clenched his knife but didn’t plan to rush in to help.

He watched the undead fight like beasts, attacking furiously, until it was like a pack of hyenas bringing down a wild buffalo.

They encountered more and more monsters as they went on, and serious injuries like broken arms greatly affected their fighting capabilities.

"There’s a wall ahead!" The undead exclaimed with joy.

So far away!

Fuller glanced at it. There were indeed walls, but it would take at least half a day’s journey to get there, and the monsters in front of them were more formidable than the walls’ defenses, completely blocking their path.

"Protect the NPC first!" Someone shouted.

"Wait, where’s the NPC?!"

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