Warm and delicious food makes Barrett become a living person from cold, numb zombies.

But the feeling of living people is not good, exhaustion and soreness drilled out from every corner of the body, and drowsiness and sleepiness also sounded the horn of attack. The last bit of strength in his body was concentrated in his stomach, eager to create more reinforcements. But the arrival of reinforcements always takes time, and the barbarians at this time have almost lost their brains.

Barrett leaned back in his chair and hiccupped gracefully, in a trance. The lips of the white-haired guard on the opposite side were constantly opening and closing, as if they were saying something to him.

But after those words knocked on his eardrums, they did not enter his mind, they just reverberated in his ears over and over again, and there seemed to be a hint of a girl's childish and clear voice, but this did not Caught Barrett's attention.

I need some more booze to sober up, he thought.

"Wait." Barrett interrupted the words of the person on the opposite side, and raised his hand and shouted at the tavern owner, "Give me another drink." Then he turned to the white-haired guard, "Sorry, what did you say your name was? coming?"

"Rupert, Rupert Every." The other party replied with a smile, "You don't seem to be looking very well, are you injured? Do you need to call a doctor for you?"

"No, thank you. The doctor can't handle this. If it's a mage, there are many ways." Barrett took the rye beer from the tavern owner and took a sip.

Alcohol swung the flail and began charging, driving exhaustion out of the brain and temporarily occupying it. Barrett felt better.

"Why?" The guard named Rupert raised his eyebrows, showing moderate curiosity, "What kind of injury does not need a healer, but a mage? Could it be..."

"Yeah, as you guessed, a little magic damage." Barrett nodded, admitting it was nothing to say.

"This is not a trivial matter," said the white-haired guard. "Ordinary people like us don't have the innate magic resistance of mages."

"But it's not serious, it will be fine after a few days of rest." Barbarian is very confident in his body, "People don't often say that everything in the world is contaminated by magic, and the difference between ordinary people and mages is only because we have not achieved qualitative change. That line is just that. After this injury, maybe I will become a mage too." He joked and drank half a glass in one gulp.

"If you can cause damage to an adventurer like you, the opponent's strength must be very good." Rupert said sincerely, "Is it caused by monsters? Around Sanye City? If you successfully kill it, I will To help you apply for the reward. Trust me, Baron Elro, who is in charge of city defense, is never stingy about this."

"No, I didn't kill it." Barrett took another sip of wine, and the surrounding scene blurred in front of his eyes.

In a trance, he felt as if he had returned to the sealed town. The cheerful laughter all around turned into the painful hissing of the dead, the warm sunlight disappeared, and the cold moonlight poured in from the window.

The guards who were drinking and chatting also became skeletons in armor, and the white-haired elder sitting opposite him also changed to the appearance of Viscount Fried. Those eyes hidden under the griffin's helmet once again burst into an ice blue light...

Barrett shook his head vigorously, and the scenery returned to normal.

"You mean, that monster is still alive now?" Rupert clenched his hands, showing a little anxiety, "This needs to put up a notice to inform passing travelers to pay attention to safety."

"No, it's not alive."

"But you just said you didn't kill it." The white-haired guard pointed out the hole in his words.

"Yeah, it's normal, because it's dead." Barrett felt a dull pain in his brain, and the alcohol seemed to be losing ground. He took another sip.

"Dead?" The other side was surprised, "And then hurt you again? How is that possible."

"It's very simple, because it's the undead," said Barrett, covering his temple with one hand. "They're all undead, all of them!"

"Have you encountered undead?" The white-haired guard suddenly realized, "Where are they? Please be more specific." The kind smile on his face disappeared after hearing the word 'undead'.

"This matter is too complicated, and I don't know it very well. I'm an adventurer, and I'm only responsible for completing tasks. If you want to know the whole thing, you can ask Mage Alvin yourself." Barrett will drink the last drink Come on, I want to say hello to the tavern owner for another drink. But the boss was not at the counter at this time and seemed to be busy with other things.

He staggered to his feet with the glass in his hand, trying to pour himself into the counter. But as soon as he took two steps, he fell heavily to the ground...

In the boundless darkness, Barret vaguely heard a voice in his mind calling him. The voice was so familiar, but he couldn't remember who the owner of the voice was.

However, he was really tired and didn't want to respond to the voice, he just wanted to fall asleep.

...

After an unknown amount of time, when Barrett opened his eyes again, he found himself lying on a somewhat worn wooden bed. The sunlight shone straight on his face from the window, bright and dazzling, which made him heave a sigh of relief in his heart.

Barrett squinted slightly and slowly straightened up from the bed. The joints of the body creaked, as if they hadn't moved for a long time, and seemed a little stiff. But his spirit is very full, even a little bit in high spirits.

After getting up, he subconsciously looked around.

The furnishings in the house are so simple that there is almost nothing else except the bed. There were about seven or eight beds, but now he was the only one lying on them. There was a rusty copper candlestick standing next to each bed, and some beds had dark red blood stains on the sheets, but the whole was cleaned very dry.

On the walls made of blue-gray stones, there are also some childish graffiti drawn with charcoal. The graffiti includes simple lines of people, livestock, and some monsters with fangs and claws, which seem to be from a certain child. under the pen.

Opposite the window is a low thatched-roofed corral, and a cow is leisurely eating the grass in the corral. A middle-aged woman in a scarf is expertly milking the cow's belly. Beside the middle-aged woman, there is another young girl, who is stirring the milk out of butter with a wooden stick with a disc at the top in the vat.

Barrett took a deep breath and suddenly felt a little pain and itchiness in his neck. He reached out and touched a soft, slippery patch of unknown.

He touched it with his palm and squeezed again. This unknown object was attached to his neck~lightnovelpub.net~ and squirmed lazily, but refused to leave.

Damn it, it's a leech! Barrett cursed inwardly. He subconsciously wanted to force the ugly 'vampire' away from his neck.

But at this moment, a female voice appeared from the door, stopping him from this arrogant move.

"Don't do this." The woman, wearing a azure half-sleeved long dress, walked to him from the door with a tray, "Little Penny has helped you a lot, you will not only hurt her, but also hurt yourself."

Little Penny? Oh, there are still people who give names to leeches.

"It's just sucking my blood greedily." Barrett said reluctantly, but the movement of his hand did not continue.

"When you were first delivered, the temperature on your body was so hot that you could fry an egg, even with herbs. If it wasn't for little Penny, your brain would have been boiled into boiling onion soup." The woman Gently patted the leech on his neck with his hand, and then, the ugly 'vampire' automatically fell into the woman's palm.

"I'm sick?" Barrett said stunned.

"Ha, what do you think?" The woman seemed to have heard a very funny joke, "When you were sent by the city guards, you were completely burned out, and you were talking a lot of nonsense. What underground dwarves, small town undead, [quest log] and so on..."

A thin layer of sweat appeared on Barrett's forehead, "What you said is true?" It must be true, otherwise no one would know about the indescribable things like [Mission Log].

"Of course!" The woman touched the leech affectionately and put it on the tray, "And the one you recite the most seems to be a person's name."

"Who?"

"Ray."

...