When Morgan stumbled up the black mist-shrouded hillside and found the hut mentioned by Morbant Fell, there was no one around him, only his loyal sword Achilles to accompany him. Morpenter's last words echoed in his mind;
"Immortality is not a gift, but the most vicious curse; giving life to the dead is not a miracle, it is a crime committed in the name of redemption."
This senior priest who originally belonged to the Holy Church of Light was also one of the researchers of the secret experiment. Before his death, his conscience discovered the warning he made. Morgan did not understand its meaning until now;
In the cemetery next to the mountain, there are several rotting zombies wandering around at this time. From the opened tombs on the side, it can be seen that they crawled out of the coffins in the ground by themselves.
As an original Paladin, Morgan is not afraid of this kind of monster that looks disgusting but is actually slow and weak. After a few blows, they collapsed like rotten clothes hangers. However, the broken body was still squirming on the ground. After a while, it merged together and stood up again.
Morgan felt nauseous, walked around them with his sword, and walked towards the hut. When he came to the damp door, the door opened by itself as soon as he touched it. When Morgan looked inside, he gasped and almost fell to the ground; a room full of zombies were looking back at him at the same time.
He took two steps back and subconsciously wanted to summon the energy of the Holy Light. However, no matter how he called, he received no response. The Holy Deed on his waist was silent, and the holy words that had been recited thousands of times flashed across the cover, as if mocking him; "No matter when, the Holy Light will never abandon His faithful believers."
Morgan felt a sense of sadness in his heart. Could it be that as the weird demon hunter said, the power of the Holy Light does not come from faith, but only depends on whether the nearby church is willing to send energy to the holy contract held by the Paladin. The knights are just walking puppets on strings. They look powerful, but in fact they are controlled by the hanging strings above their heads.
Morgan's courage quickly dried up like a punctured water bag. He stepped back step by step until his back touched something wet and cold. He knew what it was without looking. He cut the zombie in half with a backhand sword. The hand and legs holding the sword were shaking uncontrollably.
Feeling the breath of living people, this vast cemetery was waking up; in front of him, countless withered hands stretched out from the soil, and one after another the dead stood up from the graves, crawled out, and walked toward the grave. He staggered over.
An ordinary person would have been stunned by this scene. However, as a soldier who has been fighting for many years and one of the best commanders in the kingdom, Morgan was still able to hold Acchius tightly with all his will and turned around to rush towards Morpenter's hut.
Although the power of the Holy Light is gone, his swordsmanship and combat skills are still there. He fought his way out with sword after sword, punch and kick. Taking advantage of the slow movement of the zombies, he stepped over the broken corpses and ran up the rotten stairs. He rushed into the corner room on the second floor and closed the door. Throwing down the giant sword, he struggled to pick up the wardrobe on the side and hold it against the door.
There was the sound of nails scratching the door panel from outside. It was safe for the time being, and Morgan breathed a sigh of relief. At this moment, the closet in front of him was suddenly knocked open, and a zombie with disheveled hair, dull eyes, fangs, and covered in pus, blood and maggots was thrown out of it; Morgan was thrown to the ground in an instant, withered and yellow. The fangs went straight for his neck.
Morgan struggled to grab the zombie's jaw with one hand, holding the fangs an inch outside the neck, and reached for the giant sword that fell to the side with the other hand. However, it was still a little bit worse. Morgan's strength was almost exhausted in the previous battle. The fangs pressed down little by little and were about to pierce his skin;
Morgan roared, took back his hand, grabbed the zombie's head, worked together with both hands, and twisted with all his strength. There was a cracking sound as the neck bone was broken, and the zombie's head hung limply, while its long tongue stuck out. Morgan took the opportunity to kick him away, turned over, picked up the giant sword on the side, and slashed at the zombie more than a dozen times. Then he threw the broken bodies into pieces one by one from the window.
After doing all this, Morgan collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. He lowered his head and saw that his arms and hands were scratched by the zombie's fangs and claws, and his head and face were covered with disgusting mucus and pus. There were also several scratches left by the claws on his back and legs. Deep scars. A miserable sob came from his throat, and he didn't know how long he could hold on.
After looking around, Morgan leaned down and touched the floor piece by piece. Finally, in the dim moonlight under the window, he finally found the wooden floor tile with a special mark engraved on it. After prying it open with the tip of his sword, a black package was revealed.
Opening it, there was an inconspicuous oil lamp inside. With a slight sway, dots of fireflies began to shine in the lampshade. Almost at the same time, the continuous roar from the outside world, emanating from the zombie's shriveled mouthpiece, suddenly stopped.
After a while, Morgan tentatively moved the closet and opened the door, only to see the zombies lying scattered on the stairs outside. Then he carefully carried the giant sword and the oil lamp, went downstairs, and walked out of the house.
Along the way, the living dead returned to how they should be in the tomb, broken, smelly, and silent. He walked out of the cemetery step by step, but when he approached the forest down the slope, a rapidly flying arrow hit his shoulder.
This was a silent arrow commonly used by MI7, with lightning magic attached to it. Morgan felt his shoulders go numb, his hand loosened, and Acchius was thrown to the ground. His other hand struggled to hold the oil lamp tightly, and at the same time he shouted to the forest, "You idiots! I want to see His Majesty, and I have in my hands evidence that the Pope has committed a serious crime! You can't..."
Before he finished speaking, there was a muffled sound in the distance, and one of his knees was shattered by a bullet. He screamed in pain, and immediately fell to his knees, almost breaking the oil lamp cover on the ground;
Only then did he realize that the order the other party had received might not be to capture him alive.
Several more bullets came, hitting Morgan. He could no longer feel the pain. He used his last strength to support the ground and slowly placed the oil lamp, or undead suppressor, on the ground.
Blood welled up in his throat, and Morgan shouted indistinctly, "Stop... Without this, everyone here will have to..."
With a crisp sound, a missed bullet hit the oil lamp, shattering it to pieces. Morgan finally couldn't hold on anymore and fell to the ground. In his cloudy eyes, the fireflies in the lamp gradually went out;
At the same time, the roar that seemed to come from hell, mixed with extremely vicious and resentful roars, sounded one after another all around.
Morgan stopped breathing after saying the last half of his sentence, "...forever...suffered...punishment." His eyes were still open, and several shriveled and rotten feet with exposed bones walked past him.
After a while, Morgan's lifeless eyes were covered with a layer of black mist, and then the tall body stood up again in a strange posture, the bones crackled, and a roar came from his throat that was completely integrated into the surrounding environment;
Even in this state, he still did not forget to pick up Achilles who had been with him all his life. Then he staggered forward, waving his giant sword.
