Dancing is not allowed on the grave

There was no food in the cemetery, and Searle followed Lancelot towards the direction of the light in the mist for a while, and came to a small town called "Kalami".

The cold fog in the outer suburbs has dissipated a lot by the edge of the town, only blurring the lights and the vendors under tarpaulins under the kerosene lamps.

I don't know if the light is too dim, or the withered yellow of the tarpaulin is reflected on the face, the men, women and children beside the booth look haggard, yellow and thin.

This street is not spacious, and there are low-rise houses crowded along the street, many of which are dilapidated and dilapidated. There is a decaying smell from the old wood, which diffuses on the street.

As far as the eye can see, there are no buildings with wooden signs hanging, similar to taverns or hotels.

Syl frowned, and stopped an old vegetable farmer who was collecting stalls, "Auntie, where can I sell food?"

The skin on the back of the old woman's hands was wrinkled like dried tofu. She looked around Syl's face with cloudy eyes, and said hoarsely: "Young man, there is no pub here, and the scone seller has closed their stalls."

She paused, and then said, "But I still have a few potatoes left here, and I can eat them by roasting them over fire. If you want... well, I count you a gold coin."

Syl's family was considered well off in the original world, and he was especially willing to spend money on food and drink, so without thinking too much, he took out a gold coin from the purse given by Lancelot and handed it to the old woman.

Lancelot's eyes flickered slightly, but he didn't make a sound to stop him.

The old woman flicked the gold coin with her fingers, put it to her ear and listened to it, confirming that it was true, her cloudy eyes lit up a little, and she looked at Syl with some inexplicable strangeness.

Syl didn't know, she only tilted her head, her clear eyes looked at her, and she smiled kindly.

As if being burned by something, the old woman hastily lowered her head.

Holding the gold coin tightly, she threw the potatoes into the basket on the side. She didn't even bother to tidy up the tarpaulin, and pushed the basket to Syl before turning around and leaving in a hurry.

When Syl stepped forward to pick up the potatoes, he found that there were still dense black seeds lying on the bottom of the basket, but when he looked up, he could no longer see the old woman.

"Going so fast?" Syl scratched her head blankly, not knowing what to do with what she left behind.

"This should be left to you." Lancelot said lightly.

Searle turned around and saw Mr. Butler casually opened his pocket watch and said, "In Rosella, one hundred gold coins is enough to support an average family's monthly expenses. As for vegetables—such as potatoes, one gold coin can buy a whole basket. "

In other words, Searle was cheated.

Perhaps because of guilty conscience, the vegetable farmer didn't take the seeds in the basket and left them to Syl together with the potatoes, but even if these two things were added together, the normal price was less than fifty silver coins.

Searle came to his senses, but couldn't understand: "Then why didn't you say it just now?"

Lancelot bent his eyes and smiled, "As a servant, I unconditionally support all of His Highness's decisions."

Searle: "..."

Hearing Lancelot's explanation, he didn't want to say anything else, he just bent down and grabbed a handful of seeds, spread them out in his palm for a closer look.

The seeds are all black and have different shapes. With Syl's poor planting experience, it is completely impossible to judge what might be planted.

Forget it, who cares, anyway, the cemetery is full of rot leaf soil, just pick up one or two pieces and plant them, it won't grow a tree reaching the sky like magic beans.

Syl carried the basket on his back, and was about to check if other vendors were selling food, when he suddenly heard the sound of impatient horses' hooves mixed with the sound of wheels, approaching from a distance.

A puff of smoke rose from the end of the hazy road illuminated by lights.

A gorgeous carriage came into view, the whole body of the carriage was made of precious black wood, and the two horses with shiny black manes in the front were extraordinarily dignified, hooting and neighing.

When the street vendors heard this cry, as if they had seen the city management, they were so frightened that they quickly packed up the tarpaulins. Some of them didn't even take care of the tarpaulins, just picked up the unsold goods and ran away.

The carriage rushed all the way, overturned many stalls, and the places it passed were in a mess. Syl had no time to dodge, ate a mouthful of ashes, and watched the instigator go away with billowing smoke and dust.

"..." He frowned and spat out the ashes from his mouth, and asked Lancelot, "Whose carriage is that? So arrogant?"

"Baron Mace."

The name Syl has an impression, "The one who wants to buy the cemetery?"

"Yes." Lancelot paused, and then said, "He is also the mayor of Karami."

The street vendors have disappeared, and only a few kerosene lamps are left on the narrow street, giving off a faint light.

Syl knew that he would not be able to buy other food today, so he had to pick out potatoes from the basket, rub the black mud off the skin, and walk back with Lancelot.

"Speaking of which, what did that Baron Mace do when he bought the cemetery?"

"I'm not completely sure, though." Lancelot's gaze pierced through the fog and landed on the sky above the dark cemetery. "The corpses in the cemetery now are all thrown here by people sent by Metz."

"What?" Searle paused.

Lancelot went on to say: "The first body he left here was the original mayor."

Metz killed the original mayor, and after using power to succeed him, he oppressed the residents of the town even more justifiably, bullied men and women, and all the townspeople who resisted Metz were tortured to death in various ways.

Finally, the body was thrown in the cemetery.

Searle: "..." He used his fingers unconsciously, and the potatoes were almost smashed.

Simply appalling.

He frowned and looked up at Lancelot.

Sensing Syl's sight, Lancelot said softly, "Your Highness, don't be surprised, this kind of thing is not uncommon in Rosella."

As a child who grew up in a society ruled by law, Seale didn't think this was a setting that could be calmly and accepted.

The damp mist flowed by, and he kicked a wild grave, only to realize that he had walked back into the cemetery, he couldn't help but look around, and asked, "Are all those corpses here?"

Lancelot raised his hand and pointed not far away: "It's all there."

In the mist, hazy shadows can be vaguely seen, walking through in a slow and strange posture.

Syl rubbed his eyes: "This is..."

"Undead."

"Crack, creak——" The festered and stiff feet stepped on the mud, and the dead people instinctively approached the place that exuded the breath of life in the mist.

Their clothes were ragged, and they exuded the rotten smell of corpses. Most of their limbs were incomplete, with a twisted white bone exposed. Dark green viscous liquid dripped from the broken limbs, dripping to the ground in a "click, click" manner. Evaporation of corrosive fumes.

The moment Syl saw their ferocious faces clearly, he immediately took half a step back and reached out to catch the butler beside him.

In this completely strange world, he can only rely on the first person he meets to help him—even if the housekeeper doesn't seem very reliable.

"Your Highness, don't be afraid." Lancelot supported him, noticed that Searle was trembling slightly, lowered his eyes calmly, and comforted him, "They will not hurt you, and besides——as the owner of the cemetery, you can drive them .”

Searle: "?"

The dead people staggered and stopped in front of him, no emotion could be seen in the whites of their bulging eyes, but judging from their body language, they were indeed waiting for orders.

It's ridiculous.

Searle thought.

"So, now, I mean, what are they supposed to do?"

Lancelot glanced down at the basket, picked out a few potatoes inside, and gave the remaining seeds to the undead.

The dead people took the seeds one after another, bent over to push the soil away with slow and clumsy movements, and sowed the seeds into the ground.

There are also a few who gathered firewood from the wasteland not far away.

Lancelot roasted the potatoes on the spot. In the dark night, the light-yellow fruits were roasted by the light of the fire, exuding a dense, sweet and soft aroma.

After receiving the freshly baked potatoes, Seale ate them while blowing them, regardless of the heat.

The warm food entered his stomach, and his eyes were moistened by the steam. He blinked his long eyelashes and raised his eyes, facing Lancelot's deep eyes.

There were profound emotions flowing in those eyes, as if seeing someone from long ago through him.

Searle felt a little embarrassed, wolfed down the potato, clapped his hands and stood up.

Then there was a burst of dizziness.

As if some huge force was forcibly injected into the body, causing chaos, Syl staggered two steps, feeling dizzy.

"Your Highness?" While Lancelot approached, Searle also lost consciousness and fell to his side.

The soft curly hair stuck to his chest, and Lancelot froze for a moment before he hugged Syl horizontally, hearing the slow and long breathing.

Fell asleep?

It seems that it is not an ordinary deep sleep.

He pinched the back of the boy's thin neck with his fingers, where it was slightly hot.

Seale was awakened by an earthquake-like movement on the coffin board.

He opened his eyes in a daze, and the pain spread across his forehead.

The culprit was still bouncing around on the coffin board above his head, causing his temples to swell and hurt throbbing, and when he got up, his anger immediately rose to the level of rage.

The lid of the coffin was removed, and Searle saw a few pale little feet.

When the owners of the feet heard the movement, they all lay down on the edge of the coffin.They were a few child-like undead, with beautiful blond hair against a bloodless face, like a doll in a horror movie.

Syl stared at their big empty eyes for two seconds, and almost fainted again.

The little dead spirit danced and cheered on the coffin board——

"Brother, brother!"

"Wake up bro!"

"Bah, bah, bah!"

Searle: "..."

He rubbed his stiff face and sore temples, and decided to show his deterrent power in front of this group of brats.

"rua!" The boy with shaggy curly hair opened the coffin and threatened with the most vicious expression, "Disco dancing is prohibited on the grave!"

He turned his head and saw the man sitting beside the coffin holding a volume of books.

Lancelot wasn't paying attention to the book at all at this time, his heroic eyebrows were raised slightly, and he stared at Searle with great interest.

Seale: Day.

I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself.

The author has something to say:

Thank you Yu Yu, the fleshy mines and the nutrient solution!