Women only affect my ability to spread the fire

Her empty and blank eyes never left Russell's hand. She was like a female leopard curled up and ready to hunt, as if she would suddenly attack at any time.

However, in the end, she was still cautious and did not choose to take action.

When Russell withdrew his hand, the tense atmosphere temporarily eased.

Russell couldn't help but doubt his previous guess. It seemed that she still had basic judgment and had not completely lost her mind.

However, his rumbling stomach reminded Russell that it was time to eat. Now was not a good time to think about this woman who had temporarily lost her desire to attack.

"Ma'am, I have no intention of looking through the notes you have protected. I just need a safe place to rest," Russell said.

In fact, Russell didn't know whether he was talking to himself. In his opinion, this lady was probably unable to communicate through language.

However, after coming to this isolated place where he could not meet any normal people, Russell felt like he was going crazy. He had to say something to relieve his loneliness.

Obviously, the dilapidated church is not safe now. If the woman does not attack him while he is sleeping, then this cellar will be much safer than the church.

After Russell's several attempts, he had basically figured out the woman's behavior pattern.

This seemingly confused woman was just trying to protect those notebooks.

As long as he didn't show any intention of reaching out for those notebooks and didn't rashly provoke her, this would actually be a relatively safe place.

Therefore, Russell thought of using this place as a base.

Just as Russell had guessed, when Russell's hand reached for the box of bacon again, the woman did not stop him.

"I'll get some water and be back in a bit."

After Russell choked again on the bacon that had too much salt in it, he left a message as if to instruct his companions, then climbed up the wooden ladder to the top of the cellar to get some water.

The originally dilapidated house, now a pile of ruins covered with sand and stones, suddenly began to tremble.

There were a few slight vibrations at first, as if a small animal was testing something, and then the pile of ruins returned to calm again.

A moment later, there was a sudden loud bang, and the accumulated sand and stones rolled and slid to the side, and Russell crawled out from the ruins.

"Pooh, pooh, pooh." Russell, who was covered in dust, spat out the dust in his mouth. He looked around vigilantly and found that he could no longer see the figure of the big devil that made his heart palpitate.

Russell breathed a sigh of relief.

He had fully learned the lesson from the previous experience of attracting the great demon, and no longer deliberately made noise. Instead, he silently buried the cellar again, covering up the brilliant golden light bursting out of the cellar.

Then, Russell tiptoed towards the church.

Russell quietly returned to the church and found two large helmets and several broken spears.

Then he slipped silently to the river, scooped up two helmets of water, and picked them up with a piece of his longest broken spear like a load.

Russell then carefully avoided possible spies along the way and brought them back to the cellar.

When Russell reopened the cellar, he saw the woman was already guarding the entrance.

Russell did not rush back to the cellar. He first used several broken spears to make a simple rack to hold the helmet. Then he found some rotten furniture as a fire source, snapped his fingers, and started a fire.

The flames penetrated the metal helmet and boiled the water - Russell, who had received modern education, must have been extremely thirsty before, otherwise he would never have refused to drink raw water.

While waiting for the water to boil, Russell piled up two small hills of sand with only the tops concave, and fixed two helmets filled with boiling water on the top of the hills to prevent them from tipping over.

Russell then made his way down the ladder.

Dong, Dong, Dong, the footsteps were very heavy.

Russell stepped slowly onto the wooden ladder, trying to test whether the woman would attack him.

Russell's previous performance seemed to make the woman hesitate. She did not attack Russell. As Russell moved down step by step, she also retreated step by step.

When Russell stepped back onto the cellar, she had retreated back to the desk, still blocking the way to the notebooks.

Russell breathed a sigh of relief. Although the woman could not communicate through language, she still had basic judgment.

So Russell used the rubble that fell into the cellar when he opened it to pile up two small hills again, took out the boiling water from the two helmets, and extinguished the fire on the ground.

Russell then took off his arm armor, poured the hot water into the wooden cup to cool it, and dragged the box of bacon over.

During this process, the woman did not move, standing in front of the desk in a daze.

After everything was cleaned up, Russell stopped looking at the woman. He grabbed a handful of bacon and put it into his mouth.

The fat on the meat melted in his mouth, and the rich smoky flavor filled his entire mouth. Russell took a sip of hot water and let out a contented sigh.

The bacon was obviously too salty due to too much salt, but it made Russell feel unprecedented satisfaction. He felt that this was the most delicious delicacy he had ever eaten in his two lifetimes.

Although Russell was used to eating alone in his previous life, he suddenly felt a deep loneliness while enjoying his meal.

This kind of loneliness is something Russell has never felt when he was browsing short videos and social media on his mobile phone.

"Would you like something to eat, ma'am? Or some water?" Russell greeted the woman involuntarily.

Even though he knew she couldn't understand.

The woman just tilted her head slightly towards Russell, her eyes still unfocused, and as Russell expected, she didn't say a word.

Russell pointed to the bacon in his hand, then to the helmet filled with water, then looked at the woman inquiringly.

The woman tilted her head back again, looking completely uninterested in Russell's proposal.

"If you want to eat or drink, please feel free to help yourself."

While saying things he didn't believe, Russell looked around the cellar. He didn't find any signs of life.

She doesn't need water or food...

No, it's more than that.

When they just fought, she didn't even need to breathe.

Russell recalled the details he had noticed before.

Even when she was suppressed by Russell in strength, the woman's aura was very steady.

Now that I think about it, the woman's chest didn't move at all, which meant she didn't need to breathe at all.

Was she already dead, relying on the golden light within her body to hold on? Or was she simply something else in disguise?

Russell frowned.

Russell thought about it and felt that if this woman was actually something disguised as a human, then there seemed to be no need to guard several notebooks.

He tended to think that this woman, like himself, was temporarily kept alive by some supernatural power.

There was fire in his body, and it was this golden light that allowed this woman to maintain her ability to move after death.

"I hope you have better luck and can be resurrected soon like me, ma'am." Russell shook his head and said in a low voice.

Afterwards, Russell temporarily lost interest in the woman.

Russell grabbed a handful of sand and rubbed it on his hands to remove the grease, then took out the diary of the naturalist Margaret from his arms.

Russell wants to get more knowledge about the world from this diary so that he can live better.

The author says:

Author's Note: Thanks to the normal human male and reader 1642828478 for the coins

009 Margaret's Diary

XNUM X Year X NUM X Month X NUM X Day

I submitted a report to study the natural environment and species on Saint-Blanc Island.

Of course, under the teacher's persuasion, I changed the research purpose of the report to investigating the voyage of Saint Bran, a legendary seafarer in Hibernia. The teacher said that this would make it easier to obtain sponsorship funds and other conveniences from the church.

Well, the thought of dealing with those fanatical believers makes me feel as disgusted as if I had eaten a whole turnip, and I'm really afraid I'll vomit it out.

However, my teacher said that I only needed to submit a report praising this island as the true promised land of the saints, and the remaining funds could be used for my research.

So I did what the teacher said, hoping that the church could approve the funding as soon as possible.

…………

It seems that this diary was written before scholar Margaret landed on the island, and the first entry is about how she defrauded scientific research funds from the church.

Uh, do I need to honestly write about defrauding church funds in my diary? If someone sees it, wouldn't that be socially devastating?

Russell shook his head, and he understood the origin of the name of St. Blanc Island.

Apparently, the island was discovered by Saint Bran during his voyage, and he called it the Promised Land of the Saint.

Thinking about the ruined church, the broken statues of saints, and the tragic deaths of clergymen, Russell always felt that this promised land of saints did not seem to be a good place.

Russell quickly flipped through some diaries that recorded the messy and bizarre ideas unique to scholars, and hurriedly flipped through the days when the female naturalist came to St. Blanc Island to carry out her research.

Because Russell was eager to find out why the island had become what it was now, and what was going on with those demons and those wandering humanoid monsters, he quickly skipped over those diaries that he thought might contain important information but were not urgent.

As for the previous content, you can use it as entertainment and review it slowly during your breaks.

So Russell quickly flipped through most of the diary, and the words "gray fog" finally caught his attention.

…………

January 11st

It was the third day that the gray fog had enveloped Saint-Blanc Island.

Although thick fog is common on the island in late autumn and early winter, and sometimes it lasts for several days in a row, such gloomy weather still makes people feel depressed.

It seems I'm not the only one feeling blue in this awful weather.

In the afternoon, I went to a pub near the port to relax. Along the way, I found that many people were walking towards St. Bran's Church. Perhaps they wanted to relieve their boredom through confession.

It was interesting that I was staying in a room provided by the church, but I was walking down to the tavern at the harbor, while those who lived lower down were walking up to the church.

But when I looked back at the door of the tavern, watching people's figures going up and then disappearing in the thick fog, I always had a bad feeling - I hope this is just my fantasy.

Saint Bran, although my faith is not very devout, you must at least bless those who believe in you.

The pub was also very lively, much more lively than usual. The downside was that there were drunk men trying to chat up people one after another.

I had to use my wooden sword to beat up several bastards who seemed to not understand rejection and instead were too attentive and persistent. Hey, they were much easier to deal with than little William.

I almost couldn't help but take down the Saint's Sword hanging in the tavern, which was said to have been used by Saint Bran to drive away evil!

Anyway, it was a sharp sword. Better than any sword I'd ever seen Dad use.

Not only was it sharp, but it also emitted a faint glow, just like when Dad pushed his swordsmanship to the extreme.

Although my father always said that who I wanted to marry was my own business, a Walhausen daughter did not need a marriage alliance.

But since I already enjoy the convenience brought by my father's identity, I can't always think about myself, so I told my father to arrange a marriage for me.

But if I were to choose, hehe...

(The following omits a lot of fantasies about future husbands)

…………

Russell raised his head and glanced at the woman who was sitting in front of the desk and had become dazed.

Looking at the hideous and somewhat deformed iron rod in her hand, and then at the bodies of the little devils lying on the ground in miserable death, Russell guessed that this woman was most likely Margaret Wallhausen, the daughter of the chief knight of that family with a long history of learning.

Looking at the Margaret who was laughing and cursing in the diary, looking at the Margaret who knew that she had to pay the corresponding obligations for enjoying the family's privileges, looking at the energetic Margaret who knocked down several attentive young men with a wooden sword.

Russell raised his eyes and looked at the woman in front of him who had a confused face and lifeless eyes. She was guarding her small world only by some instinct or obsession, and was stubbornly standing in front of the desk. Russell could hardly connect the image in the diary with the woman in front of him.

Russell forced himself to swallow his sympathy and consider the information he had gained from the diary.

Margaret's diary mentioned ports and ships. If you want to leave Saint-Blanc Island, it is best to confirm the location of the port and also confirm whether there are any ships that can leave the port.

You can also go and see if the sword in the port tavern that is said to be able to exorcise evil spirits is still there. Maybe it has special effects in killing demons.

Russell shook his head and turned to the next page of his diary.

…………

January 11st

The fourth day was filled with gray fog.

Mrs. Hansa was very anxiously looking for her two sons everywhere today. Mrs. Hansa said that they went into the forest to chop wood yesterday and never came back.

Bishop Petersen and Sheriff Neuer appeased Mrs. Hansa, and they organized a team to search the forest.

I hope they're okay. I offered to go into the forest to help, but they refused. They kept saying things like, "This is a man's job," as if none of them could beat me. It was infuriating!

Such heavy fog made it difficult to observe the animals, so I simply hid in the cellar and secretly completed the final step of smoking the meat.