Stray

    The sun finally sank in the sky, and they had traveled for a whole day.

    The temperature has dropped, but unfortunately it has dropped a little too much. Oliver rubbed his hands together and exhaled a faint white mist. In order to prevent Adrian's bow from poking in another direction, he still kept his back straight. Nemo feels a lot more at ease, he is not very afraid of cold himself, and after his physique is strengthened, he is even more like a duck in water. He didn't even bother to add a coat to himself, and generously gave his share to Oliver beside him.

    The thing followed them.

    "Bone-knot lizard, middle-level demon." The knight commander explained succinctly. "This one fell short, probably interested in Mr. Wright."

    "This thing is a middle-level demon?" Nemo's impression of the middle-level demon was still on the terrifying deadwood jellyfish, he turned around in surprise, looked at them again and followed them The little thing—it was about the size of a Fuller goat, and walked swaying, full of the weakness of a lower demon.

    "In terms of classification, yes. Their spell system belongs to abyss magic." Adrian glanced at the knuckle lizard, with no intention of doing anything. "They're not weak when moving in groups, but they're very docile and generally don't hurt people."

    "You are so impious." Jesse Dillon buttoned his coat and sighed with both hands. "That's the devil! Aren't you going to destroy it, Mr. Knight Commander?"

    "It's alive and well and doing nothing. I have no reason to move it."

    “…you are really very ungodly.”

    "This is one of the reasons why I was fired." Adrian said seriously, looking at the blond youth with a little surprise. "I thought you knew?"

    "Doesn't your heart hurt when you pray?"

    "No." The knight commander shrugged, "Doctrine is written by a man, and I am a man—I have a brain of my own."

    "Oh, that's great, it looks like I still have a chance." Jesse Dillon joked, "It seems that you won't decisively reject the love of an atheist."

    "Of course, if I love her too." Adrian replied calmly, "She." He emphasized.

    "I don't mind pretending to—"

    "I don't think that's what I'm interested in, Mr. Cross." To prevent the conversation from going in an even more unpredictable direction, Nemo coughed and stopped. He hesitated for a few seconds, and then approached the knuckle lizard again—it turned over quickly, its feet turned upside down, and it turned faster than a weaver's spindle. "I think it's… er, playing dead."

    He reached out and scratched the belly of the lizard, and it stopped breathing.

    "They are very sensitive to magic, and their IQ is not much lower than that of humans." The knight commander stopped, "It must have its purpose, but at least so far, I don't feel any malice."

    Oliver wrapped the two coats tightly around him, and he also got close to the lizard - this time it was not Nemo's illusion, the thing moved carefully in Oliver's direction, even the bones A carapace like a carapace stuck to his hand, and he rubbed it flatteringly.

    "..." Nemo gasped, "I remember I was the Demon Warlock?"

    "Can you name it?" Oliver said with emotion, and patted its shell. "I don't think it wants to go."

    "Is your hobby..." Nemo hesitated.

    "It reminds me of an 'old friend'." Oliver smiled and patted the lizard's bone shell twice.

    "Bone broth," Nemo suggested unkindly. "How about this name?"

    "...White II." Oliver responded earnestly, "It feels a little more handsome."

    "I'm a little curious about the name of your former 'old man'." Nemo murmured. The four small eyes of the bony lizard that received its name shone even closer to Oliver. Like Nemo's going to boil it down to soup in the next second.

    The sky was completely dark, and the stars were as clear as the holes poked by the tip of a needle. The last trace of heat left by the sun has also dissipated cleanly, and the winter-like cold has replaced the suffocating heat during the day. Fortunately, the air is dry, and the cold is not too hard.

    "Oh, I call it Mr. White." Oliver breathed out the white mist again, this time it was a little thicker. "But it's a real bone, slightly smaller than this thing. Everyone has an imaginary friend or two when they're kids. I just found a more specific one."

    "If this time goes well, I may be able to remember my 'imaginary friend'." Nemo decided to divert the topic from Oliver's hobbies, Oliver Ramon may be more He imagined it was a little more wicked. "Seriously, do you want to keep this thing?"

    "It's nice to be a traveling companion," Oliver said, finally taking his hand off the skeleton. "At least it's smart, isn't it? It should know better than us about this shit."

    It turned out to be the case.

    The freshly baked White II ran to Oliver's other side to stay away from Nemo. It walked in an orderly manner by the side, and even the speed of its travel did not change very much. Occasionally, it stopped, poked its tongue warily, and steered them away from suspicious spots—once Oliver was even dragged down by it, before a lamprey-like mouth bit him where he had been. position, making a tingling sound that made the scalp numb.

      "Although I don't like too many demons crammed into a group...that's all."

    She glanced at White II again: "Like a piece of white bread with long feet."

    After saying that, she took out a piece of jerky from her pocket, stared at it and gnawed it, as if she was going to eat it. White II was shocked, and his steps were getting faster and faster.

    They arrived at the strange white towers at midnight. Only after getting closer did Nemo see what it really looked like—it really wasn't man-made. Several towers are crooked, at least as thick as ten people hug each other, and the whole is made of various kinds of bones. The yellow sand is mixed with mucus, and the bones from different animals are firmly glued together. Countless "spines" are entwined on the tower, and there are a few terrifying strands.

    The habitat of the knuckle lizard.

    White II did not join the ranks of his kind, he lay down obediently beside the lit bonfire, his tail coiled around the carapace a full circle. The other skeletal lizards made no sign of their presence either, and continued to crawl around the skeletal tower as if they were just a few tumbleweeds.

    "Their towers are storm resistant and are often next to fresh water. I think Mr. Ramon has figured it out, it's easier for you to cast spells here." See Nemo and Oliver still messing around Glancing, the knight commander explained patiently. "Bone-knotted lizards only eat stones - they generally don't attack other creatures as long as they don't destroy their towers."

    "It's a little strange." Ann put her hands close to the flames, "There shouldn't be a source of water in such a ghost place."

    "Probably man-made." Jesse yawned and interjected naturally. "As long as the magic is strong enough, a water source can be created anywhere."

    Nemo: "So they're here...circling? Doing nothing but drinking water?"

    "They are on vacation, after all, their king is not there." Seeing someone answering the question, Jesse held back the next yawn. "Otherwise they wouldn't be so... sloppy. The lizard colony usually has a leader, the smartest one. It will direct these things to expand the ossuary and expand the territory." He touched the tower behind him casually, not minding the pile at all. source of bones. "...and these don't look like they've been expanded in a long time."

    "Perhaps their king was killed by someone." The grey parrot flew in the air with great energy. "Humans are always like this, they will hunt anything with long legs."

    "Then there will be a new king." Jesse grinned. "Their king is definitely still alive."

    The blond youth stared meaningfully at the center surrounded by the tower—the direction of the thickest vapor.

    "Unfortunately we didn't have a translator this time." Oliver shivered in the increasingly cold air, wishing he could sit in the fire. He raised an eyebrow at Nemo. "Otherwise we might be able to chat with them and exchange views on 'vacation'."

    "We're not on vacation at all." Nemo muttered bitterly, recalling the day's battle.

    His stomach was now stuffed with fresh cacti and dried meat, while the knuckle lizards slowly climbed the tower, making a very regular rustling sound like the second hand of a clock. Mixed with the sound of the bonfire burning, the movement made Nemo's eyelids a little heavy. He wrapped the blanket around him casually, unexpectedly not feeling the cold.

    He squinted slightly—everything blurred under the envelope of darkness. He was somewhat familiar with the feeling.

    As a result, Nemo was just drowsy when he was woken up by Oliver, who was trying to suppress his shivering. They didn't bring much clothes, and they were dressed in summer weather. And no one actually sleeps close to a campfire.

    Go ahead. Nemo sighed in his heart, at this time it would be hypocritical to care about some of the others.

    "Come here and give me your hand." He said softly, and went out with half of the blanket. "I'm not very afraid of the cold."

    Oliver stared at him silently, in the flickering firelight, his expression was a little blurry - about half a minute later, he carefully unspooled his sword from his belt and slowly touched him come over. Nemo wrapped his hands around each other's hands, startled by how cold they were.

    "Oh, thank you." Oliver muttered, wrapped tightly in the blanket. "Don't watch me use ice...I hate winter."

    "I kind of like it." Nemo didn't look at each other's face, he watched the burning campfire. “Spring and fall are good too... summer is a bit...”

    White II hesitantly leaned in a little, and made a coil next to Oliver. Oliver's hands weren't so cold anymore, and Nemo, overwhelmed with sleepiness again, gave up the conversation and let his consciousness drift away.

    Everything is familiar, he thought vaguely. This darkness, this temperature, and that sentence.

    "I hate winter."

    A vague voice sounded in the deepest part of his mind, fragmented and indistinct.

    "...I hate winter, Mr. White."

    (m..=)