Chapter 13 Moth? Fat Moth!

When Watson saw Elson stop struggling, he thought he had killed him.

Unexpectedly, the other party still had the extra energy to utter out curse-like last words. He directly twisted the broken wooden staff, smashed the contents inside, and completely ended the other party's sinful life.

He looked down at the body that was no longer moving and thought in his mind:

"Is this the strength of the pagans who have practiced Si Chen's secret transmission? It seems to be just that...the vitality is indeed tenacious, but it is far worse than Lance."

"The magic of changing knives is quite interesting. Is this the origin of Blade Apprentice? I don't know if there is any magic that can change other things in the world... I feel that the title of Gatling's Apprentice is quite suitable for me. ”

"Anyway, I still have to thank you Elson for giving me some popular knowledge about Mansu, although I don't know whether it is true or false."

Watson hesitated whether to dig a hole and bury the other party. After all, the other party was half of his enlightenment teacher. Although his eagerness was just to relax his vigilance and carry out a sneak attack.

But suddenly there was a soft rustling sound under his feet, and he could see the blood flowing from the eye sockets of Elson's unrecognizable corpse, dripping along the fat face to the dense moss like a wool carpet.

Those flora with a strange blue light were like jackals smelling blood. Dark green roots stretched out from the ground, wrapped around Elson's soul, and penetrated deeply into the body through the eyes, nose, ears, mouth and other holes. Taking root, it soon covered the entire corpse, dragging it down as if it was devouring it.

After a while, there was no trace of Elson's presence in the sky except for the slightly arched moss field that was rapidly sinking.

"..."

When Watson saw this, he couldn't help but give a thumbs up, what a considerate piece of woodland! It even has such an advanced, intelligent and harmless function of automatically destroying corpses and eliminating traces. It is really a must-have for home travel and killing people! ! !

He waited quietly for the forest to swallow Elson completely until the ground was completely flat.

Just as he was about to turn around and leave, in the deep darkness of the forest in the distance, a strange sound echoed across the sky, as if countless flying insects were flapping their wings.

This huge flapping sound is so intense and high-pitched, and there is some kind of wonderful rhythm in the fluttering of the wings, as if it is playing a passionate symphony that penetrates the clouds and cracks the rocks.

Watson couldn't help but be in a daze, and the trees in the forest seemed to be intoxicated with it, shaking violently and dancing. The dark branches and leaves and dark green fruits fell to the ground, as if a violent hailstorm had fallen.

Watson couldn't dodge, and was hit on the head by several big fruits as big as his head. He was like a heavyweight fighter bombarding him with a series of punches. He couldn't help but feel dizzy and see stars in his eyes. He quickly squatted down to a bend as high as a door arch with his head in one arm. Under the root system.

He strained his ears to listen carefully to the vast sound in the distance, feeling that the ground beneath his feet seemed to be shaking slightly, and said to himself: "Is it the great migration of Mansu creatures?"

"It sounds more spectacular than the African buffalo stampede in the animal world."

However, Watson felt that something was not right as he listened. Why was the sound getting louder and more earth-shattering? It seemed that a huge swarm of insects like thousands of troops... was attacking him!

Thump edge—thump edge thump edge thump edge—thump edge thump edge!

The sound of flapping wings was getting closer and closer, as if it was very close. Watson felt that the huge swarm of insects seemed to have arrived above his head. Just as he was hesitating whether to poke his head out to see what was going on, the sound of flapping wings sounded. But it stopped suddenly and disappeared without a trace, as if what he just heard was just another part of his obsessive reverie.

"This woodland is really getting weirder and weirder..."

Although the outside seems to have calmed down, and now only the faintest sound of wind can be heard, Watson is still haunted by an ominous premonition. According to the routine of later horror movies, every time it seems safe, something will happen in the next second. Unlucky.

He patiently crouched under the thick roots and began to check the injuries on his hands. The knife Elson conjured up with magic was really sharp, and he cut a cut in his palm that was almost bone-deep, and the flesh on both sides rolled over. Should appear pale due to excessive blood loss.

"If what Elson said is true, then I should be in some kind of soul-like state now... I didn't expect that the senses are the same as the real body, and they can also be injured and bleed. It's strange. No wonder the eighteenth level of hell Torture is also used to punish villains."

Watson tore off the hem of the silk hospital gown that came with the dream, wrapped it around the wound, and planned to get up and continue looking for a way out.

As soon as Clinker looked up, he saw a pair of big black eyes staring at him!

It was a giant moth the size of a washbasin. The tentacles on the top of its head were shaped like ice-white comb teeth, like two plastic combs stuck on its forehead. Its fat and round body was covered with long gray hairs and scales. The wings are like crystal clear snowflakes, and the white veins in them are clearly visible.

At this moment, it was hanging upside down on the root vault with its short and thick little toe hook, and its two eyes as translucent as black gems showed a hint of curiosity.

Watson saw his surprised face in those dark, mirror-like eyes, but felt an absurd feeling in his heart. He actually thought that this fat white moth... looked quite cute.

But how could there really be harmless creatures in this weird woodland? Watson's natural vigilance made Watson hold the broken wooden stick in his hand tightly, thinking about how to make a surprise attack later.

The fat white moth seemed to be able to feel the hidden murderous intention of the humans in front of him, but he smiled indifferently, and an arc like a smile appeared on his face incredibly!

Its curled mouthparts suddenly stretched out like a sharp needle, so fast that Watson had no time to react, and the needle tip flashing with cold light had already pierced deeply into his forehead.

Watson seemed to feel a chill piercing his brain, all the way to an organ in the center of the cranial cavity, which seemed to be the location of the pineal gland.

Then a refreshing coolness flowed through his body, like a cool breeze in summer caressing his face.

Watson only felt unprecedented comfort and comfort, his spirit seemed to have returned to the original embryonic form, growing wildly in the sealed cocoon.

Crack, the cocoon of the brain shell broke, and the wild moth tore the cocoon shell and broke out of the cocoon.

Watson seemed to have been enlightened, the pineal gland in his skull beat violently, and a meaningless scripture emerged in his mind for no reason.

The incoherent scripture was like the nonsense of a drunkard, and the sloppy handwriting of the scripture was like a moth flying in disorder, a chaotic fantasy.

But Watson unexpectedly understood the meaning. He followed the rhythm and sang the ballad from ancient times. It was a strange tone like the fluttering wings of a moth.

It means: the moth is flying high, the moth is dancing low, the moth is lying on the tree, the moth mates with itself to give birth to a moth, the moth breaks out of the cocoon and becomes a moth, and the moth then flies high...

The song spread throughout the forest, and the surrounding trees danced joyfully, with branches and leaves swaying and rustling.

The moth nodded happily, and it spread its scaly wings and soared straight up, as if chasing the bright moon, throwing away unnecessary things while flapping its wings.

The fluttering scales were like bright starlight, all falling on Watson who was in a frenzy and singing loudly.

He trembled unconsciously, as if in fear, but also as if grateful.

The indescribable stimulation and pleasure were like layers of waves beating, and Watson was so comfortable that he couldn't help but groan.

This groan came from the depths of his heart, and even his spirit and body were stretched.

It was this shudder that woke Watson from his dream.

In the original work [Road: Woodland], the text of the Temple of the Wheel mentioned that there were graffiti of low-level woodland gods on the boulder, but the actual game did not mention it too much, so I gave it some free play.