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Published at 5th of June 2024 07:19:01 AM


Chapter 107: Curse Plague (10)

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Chapter 107: Curse Plague (10)


Ella woke up about three hours after Wonderstein and Maya left the village.

As she fumbled through the darkness, she discovered sticky traces around her eyes.

It was the mark of teardrops.

It seemed she had cried in her sleep.

Ella sighed and wiped her face with a handkerchief.

Crybaby Ella.

Do you cry at the drop of a hat?

Like a fool

She had thought she endured well all this time

But there was a suspected reason for it.

It must be because of the nightmares she had.

The day Wonderstein visited the village for the second time.

The tragedy that occurred in the village that day.

She confronted those memories after a long time.

The man you brought hes not a person. He is a demon.

That monster the people of the village our friends

Why are you unharmed?

Among the swollen, twisted, and contorted corpses, the man was laughing.

Oh, I see. Haha, I didnt want to show you this side of me

Wonderstein.

Yeah, that bastard.

Ella leaned back against her seat and closed her eyes.

She had tried to forget it for a long time.

No, she had tried her best to forget.

Otherwise, she couldnt have endured for two years.

But why did she have the nightmare again today?

She looked at the magazine lying in the corner of the carriage.

She remembered the article she read during the day.

The 26th valedictorian of the prestigious Lekachep Circus School.

According to the article, he gave up entering the elite circus troupe, where only one person is accepted each year, and returned to his hometown.

The article didnt provide detailed information about him, but she knew who he was.

Brown curly hair, tall stature, a long scarf fluttering over his chest, and a windproof coat.

Charlie.

He was a friend who grew up in the same circus school as her.

The master selected some of the children over 16 years old and introduced them to external circus troupes.Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

Since Ella had been in the school since infancy, she had to watch the younger friends graduate first.

She didnt feel left behind.

After all, she was the best in the school in acrobatics and acting.

No one among the graduates surpassed her skills.

Except for one.

Charlie.

He was four years older than Ella. He entered the circus school when she was 9 years old.

He says if you feed and shelter him, hell give you at least one less mouth to feed.

He walked a long way from his hometown to enter the school, talking with a calm face.

At first, Ella hated him.

To her, who swaggered around as the leader with a bit of lunch(?) power, he was a target of jealousy with his gentle attitude and soft guidance that gained popularity among the children.

So, she often played pranks on him during acrobatic practice.

Of course, it didnt last long.

His talent was comparable to hers in every aspect.

In terms of age and physique, he even showed superior skills to her.

In the midst of monotonous talents, he was the first competitor to ignite a fire in her heart.

They competed with each other while fostering their skills.

Ella put down the plate she was eating from and climbed up on a rock.

The young man in the bushes looked her in the eyes and then ran away in surprise.

Mo-monster monsters.

Stopping her steps to chase after him, Ella heard his muttering.

It was natural for someone to run away in surprise if they encountered members dressed as monsters in the forest at night.

Without feeling the need to chase after him, she turned back, but then she realized the direction in which the man had fled was towards the village.

What on earth is happening?

She felt a foreboding sense of unease.

***

Dvallcheps streets were lively despite the night, reminiscent of a festival.

The hope shining through despair was powerful enough to create such vitality.

As neighbors summoned by the soldiers went one by one towards the church, looking completely healed, the joy grew.

While everyone was looking towards the church, waiting for their turn, a few people were moving quietly towards the back alleys.

They confirmed that no one was around, and then pulled out a piece of cloth they had hidden.

The cloth was stained and emitted a foul smell.

Carefully unfolding it, they exchanged meaningful glances.

Oh, this is it!

Yes! Saints blood!

An hour ago, while others were marveling at the generosity shown by Wonderstein and the miracles he performed, a few had secretly fed a piece of cloth soaked in his blood, which had fallen to the ground, and stored it.

These pieces of cloth were what they had just taken out.

Can we really drink this?

Its the miraculous blood of the high-ranking priest who healed us just by touching. Drink, drink.

There have been many legends about this. Like becoming a devil if you drink the blood of a priest who has accumulated a lot of virtues.

The age still had the custom of watching public executions as a spectacle, and there were remnants of people rushing to eat bread dipped in the blood spilled from the neck of the executed person.

The belief was that by doing so, they could share the lifespan of the deceased.

Of course, educated people scorned such customs, calling them barbaric, but the lower classes didnt think so.

Especially for the blood of a great clergyman like Wonderstein, whom they might have seen at least once.

With that in mind, they eagerly sucked on the cloth soaked in his blood.

They exchanged satisfied expressions, observing each others stained mouths.

I feel like I can live a long and healthy life with this.

Yeah, its the blood of the great priest with miraculous powers. Cheers, cheers.

Lets go have a drink. Drinking helps with the absorption.

Lets go, lets go.

They headed towards a tavern.

Drinking the precious blood of the saint. They felt a surge of vitality and energy.

Of course, in reality, there was no such effect.

They just awakened the dormant debulroots in the saints blood, who gained consciousness right before the death.

Originally, once a debulroots left the hosts body, it would lose its power and disappear.

But just before dying, it regained strength as it came into contact with the human tissue again.

The debulroots had no will of their own.

Either they rampaged recklessly or were dependent on their master.

However, the ones abandoned during the dependence process gained the will to control themselves.

They inherited the desire of the master Increase the number of debulroots.

How can we increase the quantity?

They explored the hosts body.

What if we consume the bodies?

No, the efficiency is too low.

The free-spirited debulroots thought.

They created their own command.

Eat.

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