Witch Monastery

Somewhat surprised by her behavior, Hawthorne asked her in a low voice: "Feeling well today, want to go out for a walk?"

On weekdays, Fatima never came out. She lay quietly in her coffin and slept to ease her pain as a dead soul.

Hawthorne knew this very well, because every time he habitually opened the system, he would find that the big green dot representing her was still in its original position, motionless.

Fatima nodded gently. "Well, I was so quiet that I wanted to move, so I came out to take a look. I was afraid of scaring others if I went out on the street, so I had to come to you to take a look."

Hawthorne looked at her face and felt that she was indeed still young, no older than 30. Even though she was now a dead spirit, everything new in this world still made her curious.

It's a good thing for her to come out and have a look. Hawthorne is always worried that one day she will not be able to bear the pain and will choose to commit suicide. That is not what he wants to see.

"That's a good thing," he said. "I hope this can distract you and ease your pain."

Fatima nodded slightly, then turned her head and looked at the girls practicing catwalk in the center of the training ground in front of her, frowning slightly: "What are they doing?"

Hawthorne said, "We are planning to hold a fashion show and we are rehearsing now."

As he spoke, he smiled softly: "Did you have this kind of activity in your time? That is, a fashion company launched a series of new products, and then let beautiful girls wear them and show them to outsiders."

He simplified the description like this. Fatima frowned slightly, then nodded in approval: "Actually, no, but I can understand what's going on."

As she spoke, she looked at the girls' fashionable clothes, her voice slightly hesitant: "But, these fashions are really... bold."

She was choosing the right words, and Hawthorne observed her expression, clearly sensing a hint of shyness in her demeanor and tone.

Oh, that's right. According to the prototype of the ancient desert country where she lives, women should wrap themselves in robes, tightly wrapped up, and even wear veils on their faces so as not to be seen by outsiders?

Well, it is true that such clothes are a bit exaggerated for her.

He thought about this, smiled softly, and said, "Times have changed, ma'am. Thousands of years have passed since you lived there."

"In modern times, people are no longer as conservative and closed as they used to be. Instead, they are bold enough to wear such clothes and show their beauty to the outside world. What do you think?"

As he spoke, he glanced at Fatima's body lines from the corner of his eye.

In fact, to be honest, Fatima's outfit was probably the most daring among all the people present. Although Hawthorne's designs also included bandage outfits, at least there were other clothes to match them, which were half-covered and half-exposed, making them more seductive.

However, Fatima's outfit was almost like a bandage outfit. Her figure was already quite impressive, and now her curves were completely exposed to the eyes of outsiders, which naturally made people feel thrilling.

However, she didn't seem to be aware of this, or she had already broken the previous clothing taboos - after all, she had died once and was still longing for a complete and peaceful sleep, so how could she have the mood to worry about these things?

Fatima tilted her head slightly after hearing what he said, and nodded after a moment: "I think what you said makes sense. Although I don't agree with these clothes, people really shouldn't wear those monotonous and ugly robes. They should dress up a little prettier."

Hawthorne smiled and said, "We should seek common ground while reserving differences. Our views are similar, but the difference is in degree."

Fatima nodded, then looked at the clothes below. Hawthorne stole a glance at her and found that there was a rare glow of desire in her eyes.

Does she actually like these?

Hawthorne was thinking secretly, and at this moment, he saw the mummy suddenly raised his hand and pointed at a girl in front of him: "That girl, what is she wearing on her left leg?"

Hawthorne looked in the direction where her finger was pointing, and saw the nun standing under her short skirt, her snow-white thighs wrapped in silk threads like a fishing net.

He then explained: "That is called fishnet stockings, or more precisely

"They are fishnet thigh-high socks. Oh, thigh-high socks mean that the socks can pass through the knees and wrap around the middle of the thighs. It is a special design."

Fatima stared at him intently, then frowned slightly, as if she was puzzled: "Why is she only wearing one sock, and on the other leg there is only...what is that on her right leg?"

Hawthorne quickly explained: "That's called a leg ring. Uh, this design is intentional, because we have too many symmetrical designs in our daily lives, so we deliberately use asymmetry here to give people a novel stimulation."

Fatima nodded slightly: "Indeed...it is very attractive and makes people unable to take their eyes away."

At this time, the last girl walked down the stage, and a new girl walked in. She was wearing a gorgeous gown, but the sides of the gown were split to the hips, and as she walked, her snowy thighs were faintly visible.

"What is that?" Fatima asked, pointing at her again.

"That's called a cheongsam," Hawthorne explained patiently.

"Cheongsam..." Fatima repeated the pronunciation with difficulty, "Can clothes like this really be sold?"

"Walking down the street in clothes like this, you won't be noticed..."

Her voice was full of shyness, and she was already thinking about the shame of exposing her private parts.

In response to this, Hawthorne smiled gently: "Actually, no, there is a special safety design inside. However, for people who don't understand, such a design will make them imagine and use their imagination to satisfy their fantasies."

As he spoke, he raised his hand and pointed to his head: "Wisdom itself is actually the highest level of beauty."

Fatima nodded slightly to show her agreement. Just looking at the girl, she was clearly a dead spirit who could not feel any temperature, but at this moment she seemed to be able to feel the heat on her face.

She couldn't help but start to imagine herself wearing these clothes and walking in the middle of the crowd...

"What is that?" She asked again as she saw another girl coming on stage.

"That's just simple thigh-high socks."

"What about that one?"

“That’s a backless sweater.”

"What about... that?"

"The essence of that is one-piece black silk."

"Oh...wait, why is she wrapped in bandages too? Is she injured?"

"Oh no, that's a special design. It's called a bandage suit..."

"Oh, they look a bit like the ones I have."

"Ah, haha, actually it's completely different..."

……

Fatima asked about each item one by one, and Hawthorne did not hold back and answered her questions one by one. Time passed slowly for a long time, and finally, when the models returned to their positions to rest, she had asked about almost all the clothes, and Hawthorne had explained them all.

"Oh my god," Fatima finally sighed, "I can't believe that the times have become like this."

Hawthorne smiled and said, "After all, a thousand years have passed, and this is not your hometown. It is normal for you to feel unfamiliar."

Fatima nodded slightly, hesitated for a moment, and then said slowly: "Father, I have a humble request."

Hawthorne nodded: "You go ahead."

"Can I go watch your performance?" she said. "I want to see the audience's reaction, too."

Hawthorne's eyes lit up: "Sure!"

But as he spoke, he frowned slightly and looked her up and down: "But, with what you are wearing, when the time comes..."

Fatima said, "It's okay. Please prepare a white robe for me. When the time comes, I will put it on and cover my face with a veil. Then no one will recognize that I am a dead spirit."

Hawthorne nodded slightly: "It's feasible, then, let's do it!"

Chapter 649: Awakening of the Undead

After talking about this, Fatima watched for a while, then turned around and left, making an excuse that she was not feeling well. Hawthorne sat there alone, watching quietly, enjoying this rare relaxation and tranquility, and not intending to think about anything extra.

"Okay, that's all for today's rehearsal. We'll go to the theater for rehearsal this morning. Everyone, have a good rest tonight. Dismissed!"

Following Malena's order, the model girls standing in two rows dispersed, with nervous and expectant expressions, they talked to each other in low voices and left to change their clothes.

Malena, who had been tense all the time, couldn't help showing a tired expression at this moment. She turned around and walked towards where Hawthorne was with a little trepidation.

Hawthorne walked quickly forward, walked to her side, hugged her in his arms, and said softly: "Thank you for your hard work, dear."

During these days, in order to prepare for the performance, she was running around almost every day, busying herself with work, not for anything else, just to live up to his ideas and creativity and to achieve the best effect on the day of the performance.

After all, little Guinevere was less than half a year old, and she sometimes had to breastfeed the child, so she was naturally very busy.

Hawthorne saw all of this and naturally felt even more distressed for this woman.

"It's not hard. Phew. It's finally over."

Marlena leaned on his shoulder, closed her eyes tiredly, and murmured to herself, saying to Hawthorne: "Hawthorne, actually, I'm a little nervous."

"I don't know how this fashion show will go. This is my first time organizing such an event... I'm a little nervous. If the show doesn't go well, will it backfire?

Make you lose face?"

She said this with a hint of helplessness in her voice. The toughness and confidence she showed in front of the models were gone, because Hawthorne was actually her real spiritual pillar.

Hawthorne patted her back gently and said softly, "Don't worry, this performance will be a complete success."

He really felt sorry for this woman. In fact, over the past few months, even with his help, Malena had to bear just as much pressure.

He could find someone to help her with the venue, funding, workmanship, publicity, etc., or spend money himself. However, he had no idea about art and was completely helpless with the core part, so he could only rely on Malena to complete it herself.

That's the show itself.

Malena herself was born into an aristocratic family and received a classical aesthetic education; and the clothes that Hawthorne asked her to design were of very different styles and too avant-garde and bold. Just thinking about it would be very difficult to combine them together.

She has put in countless efforts for this, and the abandoned design drafts and performance plans amount to thousands of pages, which shows how much importance she attaches to this matter.

It’s not that no one came to help her, such as the redeemed nuns under Hawthorne and the girls from the White Swan Dance Troupe.

However, these girls all climbed up from the bottom of society. Not only did they receive an education that was completely different from Malena's, they were also all arrogant and proud, and they all believed that their own aesthetic vision was the most in line with the times and trends.

In this way, the clash of ideas frequently evolved into verbal conflicts, and even challenges to Malena's authority. When Malena used the "popular aesthetics among the nobility" to suppress these girls, the redeemed nuns, who were persecuted by the children of the rich and powerful, erupted in almost confrontational emotions with her.

In this regard, Hawthorne had to step in frequently to mediate.

Fortunately, even though they insisted on their own art, the sisters of redemption were grateful to Hawthorne for saving their lives, so they did not make the conflict between the two sides too acute.

Fortunately, in the end, the matter was resolved satisfactorily. A small dance performance was held inside the monastery, and Malena quickly ordered a dance dress at the sewing shop. Then, she stunned the audience with a stunning solo dance, and finally made all the girls convinced by her leader and cooperated with her design.

Thinking back on the past few days, Hawthorne patted her on the back, knowing how much doubt and pressure she was carrying. After all, if she failed, those sisters of redemption who were temporarily subdued by her might never believe in her vision again in the future.

Her career path will be interrupted here and she will never be able to hold her head up again in the future.

So, he comforted her softly and encouraged her: "I believe that no matter where we go, people's pursuit of 'beauty' will not be different in essence. So with this performance, we will shock the world!"

He declared so confidently that a smile appeared on Marlena's lips. "Thank you, dear. I feel much better."

She snuggled in Hawthorne's arms, unwilling to let go for a long time. Hawthorne hugged her, and an idea gradually became firm in his mind.

No matter what, the performance must be a complete success and must not be disturbed by anyone!

……

On the garbage island, the ground is shaking.

The tremendous energy surged beneath it, making this small island with an area of ​​less than five square kilometers almost silent on the seabed.

In this strong tremor, the mountain in the center of the island suddenly split open, revealing a bottomless rift below. A strong breath of death surged from it, and a hoarse dragon roar came from it, as if he was the culprit that destroyed the entire island.

And then, a huge bone dragon slowly flew out from it, exuding a dark and cold aura.

Its length from head to tail was nearly twenty meters, and when its wings were spread, even though there was not a trace of flesh and blood left, it still had a wingspan of more than twenty meters.

However, the fire of the soul was still burning in its pupils, showing the anger and unwillingness of this giant dragon.

This is obviously a dracolich, the fifth of the four undead kings on this island, and the mount of the fallen prince, a silver dragon that was forced to transform into an undead!

At this time, on the back of the dragon lich, there was a knight wearing dark blue full body armor and holding a huge sword engraved with bone-white runes in his hand.

His face was hidden under the armor that emitted bursts of cold air. The moisture in the air automatically condensed into water droplets around him, as if it was a natural rain, automatically washing him.

This person is the fallen prince.

And now, he has woken up.

The earth was still shaking, and more undead souls crawled out of the deep pit, including ghouls, zombies, skeletons, and ghosts.

But without exception, they all raised their heads fanatically, looking up at the sky, at the long-dead dragon rider, their king, their leader, their master!

At this moment, the Death Knight raised his head, and two blood-red rays of light radiated from under his helmet, as if his eyes were looking far away towards the distant East.

"I need... more troops!"

He suddenly spoke, and his hoarse voice sounded like a monarch's war declaration.

He didn't care about the graves below, his former mentors, brothers, subordinates, and the fiancée assigned by his father, and he didn't even care whether all the undead under his command had come out.

Hand, with the middle hand pointing to the west.

He seemed to have anticipated all this, anticipated that the seal might fail, his colleagues might escape, and everything might be unreliable: and he did not intend to rely on all this, but planned to create a new army with his own hands in this era!

The giant dragon he was sitting on let out a loud roar, flapped its wings, and carried him all the way to the west.

Below, the undead staggered to catch up with their master's pace, and stepped into the sea one by one. However, the cold sea water could not hinder their steps. They were originally designed to be able to step on the seabed: only in this way, by restraining the terrifying high pressure on the seabed, can they have the ability to face the terrifying ancient god in the deep sea.

Then, defeat Him, put Him to sleep, and seal Him!

Chapter 650: Performance Day

On the day of the performance.