Witch Monastery

However, Hawthorne, who had experienced many life and death situations, did not feel any threat or hostility from the other party.

So he did not rush to summon his double-headed sword, but faced the other party and asked loudly: "Who is coming? What do you want to talk to me about?"

Then, he saw the other person take a step forward and take off his hood. Through the cold moonlight, he could see that the other person was a human male who was about seventeen or eighteen years old, tall and thin, with pale skin and a somewhat immature look.

However, his pupils were blood red and his canine teeth looked longer than those of ordinary people.

Hawthorne's eyes were slightly dim. He had just guessed the identity of this guy in his heart. However, he did not expect that the other party would take the initiative to introduce his name: "Earl Hawthorne!"

There seemed to be some excitement in his voice: "I am Morne Cavendish, I..."

There was a hint of sadness and shame in his voice, but then it turned into some kind of threatening anger: "I am an evil and despicable vampire who feeds on human blood. I..."

He bit his back teeth, as if he was in great pain. Finally, he suddenly took a step forward and stared at Hawthorne with a ferocious look: "I'm here to kill you. Go to hell, Hawthorne!"

He rushed forward quickly, raised his hand, revealing his sharp nails, and was about to pinch Hawthorne's neck.

He looked ferocious, but his flawed movements were nothing to Hawthorne. Even though he had never learned any unarmed grappling techniques, he was able to easily dodge the young man's attack with his current strong reaction ability and physical fitness.

Then Hawthorne reached out and grabbed his wrist, tripped him, and pinned him to the ground, making him unable to move.

He sat on the young man's back, using the weight of his whole body to suppress him, making him unable to move. Then he asked him with full curiosity, "What's wrong with you?"

As he asked this question, his mind was also working rapidly, because the last name "Cavendish" made him feel a little familiar.

This seems to be the surname of a nobleman?

He had some vague impressions, but there were simply too many surnames in the Sein Empire, and he couldn't remember them all.

As he was pressed under him, Morn's eyes quickly turned red, as if he remembered some sad and angry past events, and his whole body was shaking.

"Kill me!" He growled, with a hint of tears in his voice, "Let me die..."

His emotions were close to collapse, and there was little rationality left to control his emotions.

He was going crazy. As a pampered aristocrat, he always believed that he would live in light and warmth.

As a result, in such a short time, all past cognitions were shattered, the gentle veil was torn off, and the loved ones showed their ferocious fangs, even betraying and hurting themselves, turning themselves into vampires...

In his mind, this was an extremely shameful thing. He could not accept that he had become such a filthy creature, and he could not accept returning to his hometown in the interior of Sein with his family to kill those innocent compatriots, feed on their lives, and live on their blood.

So he secretly ran out when his family was getting ready to leave, and then found this place based on the public reports from reporters.

He also wanted to follow his grandfather's example and use Hawthorne's knife to kill von Stein, hoping that Hawthorne could kill him.

He couldn't tolerate living in such a dirty way, and dying at the hands of his idol seemed like a good choice.

Hawthorne looked at him with a frown. The more he looked at him, the less he wanted to end the vampire's life.

His look made Hawthorne think of some of his former classmates and seniors who, after suffering misfortunes and oppression, did not choose to get angry and stab those who harmed them with knives, but instead chose to end their lives silently.

In his opinion, the young man who called himself "Moen" was in the same situation. He was turned into this by a vampire. His simple sense of justice made him feel ashamed of his current appearance, so he instinctively sought death.

But Hawthorne totally disagrees with this.

He slowly released his hands that were holding the young man down, then turned to face him, squatted down, slowly helped him up, looked him straight in the eyes, and asked, "Who made you like this?"

Morn looked up and looked at him.

"He is dead," he said. "You killed him with your own hands."

Oh, von Stein.

Thinking of the vampire's insistence that he had done nothing and his stubborn attitude of begging Fatima for mercy, Hawthorne felt that killing him was not unjustified.

He sighed, then said: "Then you should be considered ownerless now.

Status? You are free, you can completely restrain your desires, gather your claws, live in seclusion, and lead a peaceful life. "

He suggested this, but von Stein's face was filled with grief and indignation. He lowered his head and then shook his head slowly: "I can't do it, Father. They are still looking for me..."

Hawthorne's eyes were dim: "Them? The others who were transformed into derivatives by that vampire?"

Morn nodded.

"Who are they?" he demanded. "You can tell me and I can destroy them all."

As soon as this question came out, Moen hesitated for a moment.

He suddenly thought of the faces of his mother and sisters, how elegant and proud they had been, and how much love they had given him...

A complex and tangled emotion appeared on his face, as if he still couldn't let go of certain relationships. His lips moved, he gritted his teeth secretly, and finally, with a lack of breath and a guilty tone, he answered irrelevantly: "They are no longer in Libel Port."

Hawthorne stared at him. "So, who are they? Where did they go?"

Morn lowered his head: "I went to... the inland of Sayin."

However, he remained silent about who these people were.

But fortunately, even so, through his eyes, Hawthorne roughly guessed who these vampires who were still looking for him were.

Probably his family, the rest of the Cavendish clan.

The entire family was transformed into vampires, so now, in order to avoid the powerful people gathered in Liber Port, they all moved back to their hometown in the Sein Empire to harm the people in their hometown.

Hawthorne's eyes were slightly dim, and there was already a chill in the bottom of his pupils. But then he closed his eyes, not letting his murderous intent show in front of Morn.

He adjusted himself for a while before reopening his eyes and saying to Morn, "I understand."

Afterwards, he pondered for a while, and suddenly said: "Since you are determined to die, why don't you follow me to Bora to fight against the undead?"

"Although you are afraid of sunlight and running water now, you are no longer afraid of the plague and toxins emitted by the undead, so you will definitely be able to do a lot on the battlefield over there."

"So instead of dying in vain at my hands, it would be better to go there and destroy the undead first and die heroically. This is a more suitable destination for a hero, isn't it?"

He spoke gently, staring into the eyes of the young man in front of him: "Perhaps, you and I can die together in battle, and then leave our names in history together - wouldn't that be better?"

He continued to persuade her earnestly, and Moen's expression gradually became stunned.

"This... How could you possibly die in battle, sir?" His throat moved as he murmured, "If I have to die in battle, it would be a weakling like me. I..."

He spoke incoherently, and it was obvious that he had never thought about this before.

After all, the battlefield of life and death is too far away for him who is just a student at the magic university.

In response, Hawthorne just smiled lightly and said nothing: "So, you agree to my proposal?"

Moen nodded stiffly, his mind was confused and he didn't understand what he wanted.

Hawthorne breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that at least he had persuaded the young man who was about to commit suicide to stop.

He then helped him stand up and said, "Well, come with me. I'll introduce you to the teammates on this ship."

Chapter 673 Ten Days Later

Borneo, the ruins of Kandara Harbour.

The once prosperous port city has now become a ruin. The once magnificent buildings are now decaying and covered in a grayish color due to the power of the dead.

The streets, which were not very clean to begin with, are now filled not with poor and hardworking people, but with all kinds of horrible zombies, skeletons, ghouls or stitched monsters.

The thick stench rose into the sky. Even if you just flew over here from a high altitude, you would probably fall down and feel dizzy.

This place is already the lair of the undead and the base camp of the fallen prince.

At this time, at the original location of the port city hall, the fallen prince was sitting cross-legged in the rubble, thinking and meditating.

He was sensing the state of the Old One of the deep sea, and using it to calculate how much time he had left to organize an army, and roughly when he would have to lead his troops to the deep sea for another life-and-death battle with the cancer of that world.

In the distance, a figure in a black robe, hunched over, and leaning on a huge black staff walked up to him. On the top of the staff was a skull with green ghost fire emitting from it.

The black-robed man holding the staff walked to the side of the fallen prince, leaned down, and said in a hoarse voice with flattery: "Your Majesty is wise!"

"With the adjustment of His Majesty's strategy, our army has grown rapidly, and now has a size of nearly 10 million! As expected, it is right not to go deep into the inland and not to fight with the big cities. This land is full of corpses and bones, which are an inexhaustible source of our troops!"

As he was praising like this, the Death Knight who was sitting cross-legged in meditation opened his eyes and glanced at him with his scarlet eyes, but no emotion could be seen on his face hidden by the armor.

This man is a necromancer hiding in Gendra Harbor. He has been hiding in the dark for many years to conduct forbidden necromancy experiments.

Wanted by Luo State officials.

After the Death Knight conquered the port city, this guy took the initiative to surrender and served under the Death Knight, just to show his talent here and create the most powerful undead creature.

The Death Knight naturally chose to accept this. In fact, there were quite a few people who surrendered to him, and as long as they were indeed useful, he would choose to accept them all and not reject them.

After all, time is running out, and he needs to build the most powerful undead army in the shortest possible time. Only in this way can he make the Old One fall into sleep again.

For this reason, it is completely acceptable even if some people with ulterior motives sneak into the team.

This was his thought. Looking at the flattering necromancer in front of him, he slowly spoke, his voice equally hoarse and harsh: "Forget the flattery. Let me ask you, when can the giant flesh puppet you promised be made?"

If one wants to deal with the deformed flesh and blood derivatives of the Old Ones, ordinary undead are enough; but if one wants to cause damage to their true selves, a team of extremely powerful individuals is needed.

And this necromancer promised that he could create a super-giant flesh golem composed purely of the strongest human muscles. Perhaps they were not as invincible as the adamantium colossi, but they were cheap to make, and their flesh could regenerate and repair its own injuries automatically, making them absolutely invincible in long-term battles.

It was for this reason that the Death Knight left the Necromancer in front of him.

The necromancer was confident about this: "Your Majesty, just wait. I have overcome the difficulty of bearing the weight. Soon, we will have our own 100-meter-tall flesh and blood colossus!"

But then, he changed the subject: "But, haha, this is also the reason why I came to see Your Majesty this time. Before that, I still need some extra support..."

The Death Knight nodded: "Then, go ahead and do it. I look forward to your results."

The Necromancer then left with many thanks, but the Death Knight did not continue meditating. Instead, he turned his head and looked towards the east. His scarlet eyes began to fill with unresolved worries.

Von Stein was in the East, but he died;

Fatima is also in the East, she is not dead yet;

And the old ruler was also in the east, even very close to those two...

There is not much time left for me, I must continue to build my troops with higher efficiency!

He thought about this, then slowly stood up and pulled out from behind a dark blue giant sword with white runes engraved on the blade.

When he held the sword, a voice suddenly sounded in his mind: "What are you still hesitating about? You have already taken this step, haven't you?"

"Give me everything you have. In the future, there will be a throne for you in my kingdom of God..."

The voice tempted him, but the fallen prince already knew his identity: the creator of this magic sword, one of the most powerful demon lords in the Abyss, the Undead Lord, Orcus!

"I will not be your slave," he responded. "Your power will only be my tool, and I am the master of the tool."

"I will use you to fulfill my own revenge."

He declared so, but in return, he only received a sneer: "Then I wish you the best. I hope that you can still maintain this arrogance when you are desperate."

"But if you come to me again at that time, the price will be more than this."

After leaving these words, Orcus's voice disappeared, and the Death Knight slowly stood up and waved to the edge of the sky.

A huge bone dragon flew in from afar, stirring up a gust of wind. It landed in front of the knight, lowered its head humbly, and was as docile as a pet.

The Death Knight turned over and rode on it, with the tip of his sword pointing to the northeast.

Now, he is about to embark on a new expedition.

……

On board the flying Rahman.

Ten days had passed, and they had traveled nearly two thousand nautical miles, or more than three thousand kilometers, on this sea. This warship, built at great expense by the blue dragons and powered by electricity, was much faster than Hawthorne had expected. The country of Pala was already within reach.

The sun was shining brightly on this day, shining on the blue sea, making the sea sparkle. The warm sea breeze made people feel comfortable even though it was already autumn.

At this time, on the front deck of the ship, two spellcasters were making complicated gestures and controlling the flames. One of them was Ethan, a member of the Gray Hand brought by Anno, a red dragonborn and also a red dragon vein warlock.

The other one was Ekta, who was wearing a black nun's uniform.

Both of them controlled the flames and tried to draw a circle of fire in the air. The circle formed by Ethan's flames was obviously more regular and stable, while the circle of fire in front of Ekta was trembling and deforming, as if it could fall apart at any time.

"Pay attention to the stability of your magic power and be patient with this kind of thing."

While maintaining the fire circle in front of him, Ethan still had time to turn his head, staring at the fire circle in front of Ekta with his yellow vertical pupils, and reminded her of her skills in a deep voice: "Don't always rely on your huge magic power. Your magic power will be exhausted one day."

"Try to control them and achieve the results you want with the least consumption!"

Over there, Ekta held her breath, her face turning red, and she tried her best to suppress her desire as a witch to vent her magic power. She kept the output of magic power within a very small and controllable range to maintain the existence of the fire circle in front of her.

Behind her, Hawthorne, who had just finished a round of sparring with Anno, was watching the performance of the two while drinking orange juice handed to him by the bunny girl maid.

Ethan is a dragon vein warlock with the power of red dragons flowing in his blood, specializing in evocation spells that cause fire damage, while Ekta is a fire witch who is also good at playing with fire.

The two men had many similarities, so Hawthorne suggested that they compete with each other and exchange spellcasting techniques.

Of course, he actually had a lot of thoughts in mind: there were many characteristics and skills related to fire damage that were unique to the Red Dragonborn and the Red Dragon Vein Warlocks. As a fire witch, Ekta had never studied these things, so naturally she had not mastered them yet.

He hoped that in this way, she could learn all these characteristics and thus improve Ekta's strength.