Hearing the words of the Death Priest in front of him, the old caretaker did not immediately cooperate like an ordinary gravekeeper would, but frowned in dissatisfaction: "I am the caretaker of the cemetery. I have never heard of the saying that the actions in the cemetery require the caretaker to avoid."

"This is a special situation, old sir," the short man in black took a half step forward and said in a serious and sincere tone. After seeing the stubborn expression on the old guard's face, he finally sighed, "Well, actually I shouldn't have told you - this body will be sent to the Cathedral of Silence."

"The Cathedral of Silence?" the old guard asked subconsciously, "What on earth is this..."

"It's a serious unknown contamination, possibly related to something deep inside the mine. We need to perform a special purification ritual. The fewer living people on the scene, the better," the short man said seriously. "Not only do you have to stay away, but one of my colleagues and I have to stay away with you as well."

As he was speaking, the tall and strong man among the men in black also stood up and silently came to the side of the short man.

The old guard looked at the two black-robed priests in front of him, and then looked at the black-robed woman standing next to the morgue. The latter had already taken out the herbs and holy oils used to perform the ceremony from her possession, and began to set up a temporary altar on the open space in front of the morgue.

"Well, since it involves mines and pollution, it's not my responsibility," the old man finally gave up his stubbornness. He shrugged, put away his shotgun, turned around and walked towards the cemetery path, then turned back to greet the two men in black, one tall and one short, "Come on, there's some hot tea in my hut, and you can warm yourself by the fire inside. The cemetery is colder at night than outside."

The two men in black looked at each other, and as they followed the old man, they said casually, "Thank you for your hospitality, old sir."

The old guard and the two men in black left, leaving only the woman in black with thin lips and another thin man who remained silent by the morgue.

And a coffin that is now quiet.

Duncan lay quietly in the coffin, thinking about the conversation he had just had with the guard, and guessing the origins of the several uninvited guests who appeared later.

The landing journey in Frost... is really different from the one in Pland. Although it doesn't seem to be very smooth, it is also quite fun.

The only thing that made him dissatisfied was the poor execution efficiency of this body.

Duncan raised his hand in the coffin and watched a small green flame jump on his fingertips, illuminating the small space.

Fortunately, the effectiveness of the spiritual fire is not affected.

In the flickering green firelight, he saw cheap, inferior wooden boards, rough linen lining, densely packed runes on the coffin lid, and a triangular emblem in the center of the runes - that should be the mark of Bartok, the god of death.

Those runes and emblems are obviously not "noble handmade products", but should be printed directly by machines. Anyway, the effect is almost the same.

Duncan pricked up his ears again and listened carefully to the movements outside the coffin.

The coffin was very thin and the seal was not tight enough. He could clearly hear the conversations of the people outside. He had just heard the sound of the guard and the two uninvited guests leaving, and now he could hear some rustling noises, as if the people who stayed behind were walking around the coffin.

What are they going to do?

The woman in black stopped setting up the altar in front of the charnel table.

She stood up and looked in the direction the guard had left. After confirming that the stubborn old guard had gone far away, she spat on the ground beside her and then walked towards the coffin in front of her.

She stepped carelessly over the "altar" that had just been set up, and kicked away the herbal powder and the ceramic containers containing oil.

The taciturn man in black had already come to the side of the coffin. He shook the cane he was carrying, and a metal bend popped out at the end of the cane, turning it into a crowbar.

"Wait a minute," the woman in black raised her hand to stop her companion, then came to the coffin and tapped with her fingers, "Is it still there?"

"Yes, I am," Duncan replied immediately. "What do you want?"

The woman in black frowned, as if confused, but then said expressionlessly: "Do you know who you are?"

"...I don't know," Duncan said casually. "In fact, I'm still confused. I don't know how I got here. And just now, a cemetery keeper said that I was actually dead and would be cremated in three days... What happened? What do you do?"

"Ah, we're here to help you," the woman in black said calmly, "You don't want to be burned, do you?"

"Of course - although the winter in Frost is indeed cold, it is still too challenging to keep warm in the crematorium. Are you going to let me out?"

"Your joke is as cold as this night, sir," the woman in black laughed, "Of course, we will let you out, and then you just need to follow us, and you don't have to worry about anyone continuing to trouble you."

"Thank you very much." The voice in the coffin said politely.

The woman in black restrained her expression, took a step back, and nodded to the silent man holding the crowbar: "Pry it open."

The silent man immediately stepped forward, and with a creaking sound, the coffin, which was not very sturdy to begin with, was quickly opened. Then he pushed forward with his walking stick, pushing the dark coffin lid aside completely.

The planks slid off the platform and fell heavily onto the gravel.

The woman in black raised a finger as if to keep quiet, but a hoarse and low murmur came from her throat, which did not sound like a human voice.

As she gestured for "silence", the coffin lid fell to the ground without making any sound. In the blink of an eye, the heavy wooden board turned into black dust that drifted with the wind and disappeared silently into the night.

Then, a man and a woman in black raised their heads and looked at the wide-open coffin.

A pale man with thick hands and feet, wearing a dark brown coat, sat up from inside and looked at them curiously.

After a long while, Duncan showed a faint smile on his face and sighed softly: "Ah, it seems to be getting interesting."

"What did you say?" The woman in black frowned, then immediately turned stern and ordered in a low voice that seemed to have a strange power, "Come out first and leave here with us."

"Don't worry," Duncan smiled and shook his head as he sat in the coffin. "The chains on your body are really unique - your deep demons are also very unique. I thought those things were only dogs."

The man and woman in black were startled at the same time when they heard this. The next second, they were shocked. The woman with thin lips even subconsciously took a half step back. She stared at Duncan sitting in the coffin in astonishment and vigilance: "Can you see through our disguise?!"

"camouflage?"

Duncan raised his eyebrows and glanced at the two people in front of him——

A woman, wearing a dark long dress, her face looked thin and mean, with a pitch-black chain sticking out between her neck and collarbone. The chain was obviously one with her body, as if it extended directly from her collarbone. The end of the chain was connected to an ugly strange bird made up of twisted and spliced ​​black bone pieces.

Black smoke was rising from the strange bird as it landed steadily on the woman's shoulder. The two bloody holes on its head were staring at Duncan, and every bone in its body was trembling slightly.

The other was a thin man wearing a thick gray-blue coat. A chain extended directly from his throat, and the other end of the chain was connected to a huge jellyfish floating in the air. The jellyfish seemed to have no entity, and its whole body was made up of floating smoke. There was a blood-red core deep inside it, which kept expanding and shrinking and wriggling like a heart.

The pitch-black chains coexist with the strange creatures surrounded by black smoke.

Two Annihilation Cultists, apparently.

The two cultists were both shocked at this moment.

"Oh, yes, disguise," Duncan nodded belatedly, then he slowly got up from the coffin, walked out, and carefully climbed down from the platform - his movements were very slow, because this body was not very useful. "Agou seems to have the talent to interfere with cognition and help the symbionts disguise their identities. So this is your common skill? But if I may be frank, your disguise ability is really not very reliable. I have never seen a situation where there is no problem..."

"Stop!" The female cultist finally reacted. She took several steps back and pointed at Duncan. The words coming out of her throat seemed to be mixed with another low and hoarse voice, as if another spellcaster was chanting a spell through her throat, "I deprive you of the ability to move. I order you to stop here!"

Duncan finally stepped off the platform, and took two steps forward slowly, looking at the woman not far away curiously: "So, this is the so-called 'magic spell' that the Annihilation Cultists borrowed from the devil?

"Well, to be honest, she is indeed more elegant than Shirley.

"But now it seems that the effect is not as good as the meteor dog - at least it can scare me."