Women only affect my ability to spread the fire

Spiraea is not a native species of the island and may have arrived with visiting ships or migrating seabirds.

Perhaps the spirea seeds came to this town attached to the devil, and then took root, sprouted, and bloomed here.

It seems that although it is winter now, it is definitely not the year 1653 when the devil attacked, which means that she has been dead for at least a year.

What happened between her death and resurrection? How was her body preserved until the Lord came to resurrect her? Could the Lord have given her a completely new body?

Margaret had many doubts in her mind, but she did not ask Russell directly.

She looked at the other withered spireas and subconsciously lit one of them with the flame in her hand.

As expected, the withered spirea did not come back to life with the help of the flame, but was burned to ashes.

Indeed, even though the Lord always attributes the credit to the flame, it is still only the Lord's flame that can bring the dead back to life. The flame is merely the means by which the Lord grants a second life.

Our Lord is truly a humble God who does not take credit for himself! Praise our Lord!

Margaret felt that she was gradually beginning to understand it all.

Although Margaret's belief in Russell was very devout, her trained scholar instinct made her begin to peek into the principle of the flame out of curiosity. She did not think that she was rebelling and trying to "steal the authority of God" like a true fanatic.

At this time, Russell was looking forward curiously: "Margaret, you just said there is a path down the mountain ahead? But I can't find it."

Margaret came back to her senses from her thoughts and walked quickly in Russell's direction. "My Lord, please let me lead the way. This used to be a shortcut for the townspeople to go to the forest to cut trees. It went through the forest directly to the outside of the town. It was a bit hidden, and I've only been here a few times, uh..."

Margaret's voice stopped abruptly.

The path that was trampled out by the townspeople in Margaret's memory has now disappeared. Under the catalysis of time, it has been buried in withered thorns and weeds.

Could thorns and weeds grow so lushly in just one year?

Thinking of the dry walls covered with vines and moss, Margaret smiled bitterly in her heart.

"Although I'm not a local, I still barely remember this path. My Lord, please allow me to open a path for you."

Margaret walked forward as she spoke. She neatly tied her golden hair into a ponytail, then squatted down and began to cut the thorns with the broadsword she had just picked up from the church.

"Ah, I'll help too. You tell me which direction to go."

Russell looked at the gray mist spreading from the dead branches of winter, and was sure that if Margaret had not been his guide, he would definitely not be able to find the way.

Russell imitated Margaret's skillful movements, and the two of them opened up their old path again bit by bit.

"Margaret, are you so skilled in harvesting these thorns because you are a scholar?" Russell asked curiously.

"My Lord, it's because of my father's education. My father said that the children of the Walhausen family must sympathize with the suffering of the people and experience their labor firsthand, so as not to become cruel, numb, and stupid rulers." Margaret smiled faintly when she talked about her father.

But the smile was fleeting.

"I've been able to do a lot of odd jobs since I was little. I think I'll become a naturalist, which is also related to the education I received since childhood. My younger brother William was not so obedient. He wanted to be a hero like our father. When my father was very angry, he taught me martial arts more seriously."

Russell never expected that Margaret's father, as the chief knight of the kingdom, would have such an understanding.

Perhaps Mr. Ludwig Wallhausen will show some mercy to me, a poor boy who kidnapped his daughter?

Wait, it seems that my identity in this world is a noble, not a poor boy.

Thinking of this, Russell quickly asked, "By the way, Margaret, can you recognize the knightly crests engraved on the weapons and armor in the church? Are they related to the Knight Kingdom of Usedom?"

Margaret shook her head. "My Lord, please forgive my lack of knowledge. I can only tell that their swords and armor are of the style that comes from the Kingdom of Occitania, but I cannot recognize the coats of arms of any of these knightly families... I lack any knowledge of heraldry."

Russell nodded and was not disappointed. He at least knew that his predecessor came from a kingdom called Occitania and was a nobleman of high status.

Now that we have a clue, we can slowly investigate the rest of the matter.

For a moment, the two men were thinking about their own things and no one spoke. There was only the sound of half-human-high thorns and weeds being cut, and the crackling sound of stepping on them - of course, there was also the rumbling sound of fighting coming from the distance, but under the cover of the woods, the sound seemed very far away.

"My lord, turn right here, then go straight ahead and you will pass through the forest." Margaret tucked a strand of naughty hair that had fallen from her temples behind her ear, wiped the sweat from her forehead, frowned, observed for a long time, and then said to Russell.

Looking at the thick fog, Russell couldn't help but exclaimed, "Ah, thanks to you, Margaret. If it were me, I would never have found this way down the mountain."

After that, Russell continued to cut down the thorns and weeds in the direction indicated by Margaret.

Margaret forced a smile and said nothing.

However, with the sudden rustling sound of footsteps, Margaret's expression immediately changed. She was about to speak to remind Russell, but was stopped by Russell.

025 Encounter

Russell grabbed Margaret, and Margaret covered her mouth without making a sound. The two of them crouched down and hid in the half-human-high thorns and weeds.

But the footsteps sounded sluggish and dull, and did not sound like those of a demon at all.

Soon, a hunched figure emerged from the thick fog. It looked like an old woman.

Margaret was startled, then she covered her mouth tightly to prevent herself from screaming.

Russell noticed Margaret's behavior, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he began to look at the old woman.

The old woman was hunched over, looked haggard, her eyes were numb and unfocused, her clothes were torn and tattered, and she looked like she could fall apart at any moment.

Russell believed that the old woman was also a lost soul.

The old woman ignored the road that had suddenly opened up in front of her. She turned around and walked slowly into the distance, step by step, and soon disappeared in the fog.

Only the rustling sound of dragging footsteps slowly penetrated the gray fog and reached the ears of the two.

Only after the footsteps completely disappeared did Margaret whisper, "That's Mrs. Clay, Mayor Clay's wife. There might still be someone alive in this forest! Let's follow them and see, my Lord!"

Margaret's voice was quite excited.

Russell was not so optimistic. He shook his head and asked, "Do you remember Mrs. Hansa in your diary?"

Margaret was startled, then immediately deflated: "Yes, my Lord, your eyes see everything. Mrs. Clay does look like a lost soul."

Seeing Margaret's lost look, Russell rubbed Margaret's head even though he didn't know why Margaret suddenly became depressed.

Perhaps it was the mention of her father that made her homesick? Or perhaps it was the encounter with someone she knew that brought back memories?

Russell didn't know the answer, but he still hoped that Margaret could cheer up, and he was also curious about the existence of the Lost Souls.

What kind of existence is a lost soul?

According to Margaret's description in her diary, a lost soul is a living person whose soul has been sucked dry, turning him into a walking corpse.

So, how do these Lost Souls sustain themselves? Do they need to eat? If so, what do they eat?

If they ate like ordinary living people, maybe they could follow Mrs. Clay to find the source of food.

So Russell suggested: "Let's follow her and see what she is doing. Maybe she is a survivor hiding in the forest like you said."

Margaret lowered her head and replied, "Yes, my Lord."

There was a hint of hope in her voice.

So the two of them followed on tiptoe—Russell was not wearing armor, so their footsteps were very light—and they temporarily left the road through the forest.

Russell took out his dagger and scratched marks on the tree trunks along the way to avoid getting lost. He didn't want to experience the feeling of getting lost in the foggy forest at all.

Mrs. Clay walked slowly forward, her steps were so slow that it took no effort to keep up with her.

As we walked, the forest became deeper and deeper, and the fog became thicker.

Suddenly, Russell and Margaret followed Mrs. Clay to an open space.

Did they walk out of the forest? Russell looked at Margaret doubtfully. In order to avoid disturbing Mrs. Clay, the two consciously did not talk to each other.

Margaret seemed to know what Russell wanted to ask, and she shook her head.

However, Russell did not have such a good understanding ability. He could not tell whether Margaret wanted to say no or she wanted to say she didn't know.

The two took a few more cautious steps, and the fog became thicker.

The stumps left behind by the felled trees and the rusted saws thrown aside indicate that this was once a logging camp.

Since logging camps were always built on the edge of the forest, Russell realized that they were on another road through the forest.

The fog in the abandoned logging camp grew thicker, and visibility was reduced to only a few meters.

Mrs. Clay's thin and hunched back had disappeared in the mist, but the rustling sound of her slow footsteps could still be clearly heard by the two men.

To avoid distraction, Russell held Margaret's hand with his left hand.

The fog was getting thicker and thicker, and the sounds of fighting were still faintly heard. Russell didn't know what was waiting for him in the fog.

Is the source of this gray fog ahead?

Is it possible to eliminate this disturbing gray fog? Is there any danger?

Russell didn't know the answer, so he decided to find out.

Russell retracted the dagger, grasped the sword, and prepared for battle. He continued to listen carefully to Mrs. Clay's footsteps and moved forward.

After walking for a while, the fog became thicker and thicker, and the visibility was only about one meter.

At the same time, as Russell expected, the footsteps around him gradually became denser.

Moreover, these footsteps contained not only the sounds of the numb lost souls, but also the clattering sounds of the dwarf demons.

Russell clearly heard a Lost Soul passing by a dwarf demon, but nothing happened.

The Lost Soul did not avoid or dodge, and the dwarf demon walked past him in a swagger as if he was not aware of the Lost Soul's existence.

The demons and the lost souls are in cahoots. Russell narrowed his eyes when he realized this.

It seems that Margaret is different from ordinary lost souls. This can be well proved by comparing the golden light she once emitted with these zombie-like lost souls.

And in the cellar, the corpses of the dwarf demons and the lost souls that had once piled up at her feet seemed to explain the problem even more clearly - no, those corpses might have been left behind before her soul was taken away.

The footsteps of the dwarf demon were getting closer and closer. Russell had no time to think. When there was no way to avoid it, he stabbed out with his sword.

Margaret cooperated by stretching out her left hand and covering the dwarf demon's mouth. At this moment, the two arms from two different people seemed to be commanded by the same person, and they tacitly took the dwarf demon's life.

Then they slowly and gently placed the body on the ground, silently and without causing any ripples.

Through this silent killing, Russell clearly realized that the thick fog also interfered with the vision of the dwarf demons. At least in terms of vision, they were equal to these low-level demons.

After absorbing the soul of the dwarf demon, Russell gently pulled Margaret into his arms.

Russell moved his lips but made no sound: it looked as if he was going to start a massacre under the cover of the fog.

Margaret, staring at Russell's lips, smiled and nodded slightly.

The author says:

Author's words: Thanks to Wa～HHH for the reward and coins

Thanks to Xingdian, IEEE 802.15.4, Youshu, I will go first, who will be the last one to pay the coin?

026 Abandoned Logging Site

After the two of them killed several dwarf demons silently, Russell knocked down another dwarf demon with one sword, but this time no soul rushed towards him.

Russell immediately realized that there was a demon commander nearby. He held his breath and listened carefully. Sure enough, he heard several small footsteps coming towards him.

Obviously, this was a trap set by the Lesser Demon Commander.

Unfortunately, this cunning demon commander did not know that Russell could use the fire in his heart to determine whether the dwarf demon was really dead, so the trap was immediately discovered by Russell.

Russell decided to take advantage of the situation, so he stayed beside the dwarf demon who was faking his death and patted Margaret quietly.

Margaret understood what he meant. She had heard Russell talk about how to deal with the inferior demon commander, so Margaret replaced Russell and stayed there as bait.

Russell silently moved towards the farthest footsteps.

Margaret stabbed the fallen dwarf with her sword. However, the dwarf lying on the ground pretending to be dead was as if he were really dead, not moving or making a sound.

Margaret was curious about the ecology of the dwarf demons.

These cowardly, lowest-level demons would scatter like birds and beasts after the death of a companion, but if they had a commander, they would be like those with the most serious military discipline.

Margaret wanted to know why this happened. Based on Russell's previous story, Margaret judged that these dwarf demons were made into puppets by the demon commander and they themselves had no souls.

Does this dwarf demon really have no soul?

Margaret poked the dwarf demon lying on the ground with her broadsword with great interest.

The dwarf demon remained motionless, as if truly dead, making Margaret seem as if she was venting her anger on the dwarf demon's corpse.

To be precise, Margaret was venting her anger by killing the corpses. She was a scholar doing research on the island and was inexplicably invaded by demons. Her soul was taken away by the demons, and she had endless anger towards the demons.

The footsteps of the other dwarf demons became noticeably louder, as if they were angered by Margaret's corpse-mutilating behavior.

When the other dwarf demons were about to complete the encirclement of Margaret, Russell successfully got behind the last dwarf demon.