The knife carved from black bone slices lightly cut through the rough bark, leaving inconspicuous lines on these lush towering trees, and then smeared blood on them, infusing them with the power of spirit and blood, applying blood three times to each mark, and repeating this cycle...

Richard performed the mark-carving operation according to his memory. He used the bone carving knife in his hand to leave runes symbolizing profound power on the tree trunks in the forest, and smeared his own blood on the runes. Then he looked up and looked at Dumont who was doing the same thing not far away.

He walked over as if to say hello.

"The power of these marks alone is very weak," Dumont said casually when he saw Richard approaching, "but as long as there are enough of them, they will have a sufficient impact on Silantis."

"It's not enough...not enough..." Richard muttered vaguely, his fingers unconsciously turning the bone carving knife in his hand.

"The influence of these marks alone is indeed not enough, but once the process begins, it will accelerate. When Silantis 'remembers' that day, it will be time to reap the fruits." Dumont laughed, as if he was full of confidence in the future. "Those 'preachers' are unreliable, but at least this time, the information they provided came in handy."

Richard didn't say anything, but slowly raised his head, staring at the big tree where Dumont had just left his mark, as if admiring the scenery - he looked so seriously that Dumont also subconsciously raised his head and looked at the treetops above in confusion.

"What are you looking at? What's on this..."

Richard suddenly raised his arm in a posture and angle that human joints could never make - almost breaking his right arm into three parts, allowing his hand to go into the blind spot of Dumont's vision and stabbing the bone-cutting knife fiercely into the latter's chest.

But the small carving knife used in the ritual was not lethal, and the blow only pierced the flesh.

A sharp pain suddenly came from the chest. This sudden and inexplicable attack made Dumont's mind go blank for a moment, but he reacted immediately, and suddenly slapped Richard's arm away, pressed the injured area with one hand, and flashed back at the same time.

Pitch-black chains instantly emerged, and an ugly and ferocious deep hound appeared behind Dumont. But before the hound could react, the death bird on Richard's shoulder suddenly swooped down, and a pair of huge skeletal wings extended and deformed like shackles, instantly covering the hound. Accompanied by the creaking sounds of bones struggling, collisions and friction, the two demons entangled together, and it was difficult to separate them for a while.

"Are you crazy?!" Dumont's eyes widened, and he looked at Richard, who was standing not far away with an expressionless face, in astonishment. "You want to kill me?!"

"No," Richard shook his head. He glanced at the Deep Hound that was temporarily controlled by the Dead Bird, and a trace of inexplicable disgust appeared on his face. But he still said to Dumont very seriously, "I just want to help you."

"Help me?" Dumont was stunned. He looked at Richard opposite him as if he was looking at a madman, but at the same time, a huge confusion arose in his heart - because the ritual carving knife could not kill people, and the opponent's sudden attack just now only scratched himself at best. This made him not know how to react for a while. There was only one thing that was certain: Richard was in a wrong condition!

However, Richard nodded seriously: "Yes, I'll help you. Your body is empty. I'm going to fill it with cotton, which will make you better."

"...Cotton?" Du Meng repeated this inexplicable word subconsciously, "What nonsense are you talking about..."

He suddenly stopped.

He felt a little itchy where he had been stabbed in the chest.

The slight itch quickly turned into a strange feeling that couldn't be ignored, as if something was growing and crawling there.

He subconsciously reached out and scratched the itchy area, and then without caring to continue to be alert to Richard, who was obviously in a bad condition, he looked down at his wound.

The bleeding has stopped, and on the bloodstained clothes, white flocs can be vaguely seen - the flocs are gradually increasing, as if... they were transformed from blood.

After a slight hesitation, Dumont opened his collar and saw that the small wound was healing. Between the squirming and contracting flesh, cotton was slowly entering his body.

The entangled Deathbird and Deep Hound gradually stopped fighting. The stupid and unintelligent demons did not understand what hatred and anger were. The emotions and cognition of the symbiotes determined their behavior. As the bone wings gradually folded up, the two demons returned to their respective masters.

Dumont raised his head and looked at Richard standing opposite him with a somewhat subtle expression - he still remembered that the relationship between him and the other party had never been very good, especially in recent times. Although there was no great hatred between them, sporadic frictions occurred from time to time.

That was why he asked the other party to stay with him when he decided to act in groups just now - because he didn't want Richard to do any "little things" out of his sight.

He would never have thought that this guy would do such a thing to him.

After hesitating for a long time, Du Meng finally spoke awkwardly: "You are a very nice person."

Richard laughed, and at that moment, the minor rift between him and Dumont was eliminated - @#￥% the brotherhood between him and his compatriots was restored.

"We should help others, too," Richard said sincerely. "Everyone has a hole in their body, and they all need cotton."

"Yes, everyone needs cotton..." Dumont was still not used to this new self, and his expression was a little awkward when he spoke, but he agreed with Richard's suggestion, "We can start with Sariel's group - he is an honest and hardworking man."

"No problem, but we need to plan. People without cotton are irrational. They may not know the importance of cotton yet - just like you just now. We need to take their attitude into consideration..."

"Yes, the rabbi also thinks you need to plan..."

"We can discuss this as we go."

"Then let's go." "Let's go." "Let's go."

Richard and Dumont looked up at the same time, looking at the misty forest path, then took a step forward and walked into the depths of this foggy dream.

The rabbi went hunting.

※※※

The land covered with ashes and black slag creaked when stepped on, and always gave people the illusion that it would sink at any time. The criss-crossed debris of fallen and broken branches were more troublesome than the bushes and vines in the forest.

Nina and Morris walked with difficulty among the huge wreckage that stretched for an unknown length. After a long time, they were still moving around on its edge.

"It's even harder to walk here than in the forest outside," Nina couldn't help but mutter. "In the forest, there are at least small paths trampled by wild animals... Here, there are ashes everywhere that will sink you into them if you step on them."

As she spoke, she lifted her feet from the ashes and black slag, and frowned at her dirty shoes.

She held onto a burnt branch nearby, took off her left shoe, and tried to pour out the water, spilling out several stones and black residue.

"And I feel like we're just circling the edge of this scorched earth," she added. "Can we really find a way into the center of the wreckage?"

"The collapsed treetops block the road to the main trunk of Silantis... This is indeed a bit troublesome." Morris frowned and said as he looked at the rugged and tangled charred branches in the distance.

Although they are tree branches, the scale of those things has actually exceeded the concept of "branches". The debris of branches that fell from the top of the World Tree can be described as "horrifying in scale". Even some branches that are considered "thin branches" in proportion are often hundreds of meters long and almost as long as a tower in diameter. They crisscross and fall on the scorched earth, forming a huge structure that is daunting. When viewed from a distance, those are not so much burnt dead branches, but more like... a giant city collapsed from the clouds.

Faced with such a pile of "dead branches and leaves", it is unrealistic to use brute force to clear a path. The only way is to take detours, various detours, or take the risk of crawling into the gaps between the branches and look for paths that have not been completely blocked by ashes.

"If Miss Vanna were here, she might just charge in straight ahead," Nina muttered as the idea of ​​"using brute force to clear the way" came to her mind. "These debris blocking the way can't stop her from punching."

"Fanna is not just brute force," Morris, an elder who has known Fanna for a long time, couldn't help but say, "And even if she faces something like this, I'm afraid she will..."

He paused midway through his speech, as if hesitating.

After a moment, he shook his head: "Well, not necessarily, maybe she really can."

"Actually, I can too..." Nina muttered softly.

Morris glanced at the girl, as if he wanted to say something, but just as he was about to open his mouth, a breeze suddenly blew over the land of ashes - in the suddenly rising dust, he and Nina simultaneously saw a vague shadow not far ahead that seemed to flash by.

It looked like an elf standing blankly in the wind?

Nina was stunned for a moment, then she turned her head suddenly: "Mr. Morris, did you see that side just now..."

"I saw it," Morris said before Nina finished speaking, his expression becoming a little serious, "It looked like an elf."

"She doesn't look like 'Shirin'..." Nina said uncertainly, "She looks more like... more like..."

She hesitated, not daring to draw a conclusion for a moment, but Morris nodded slightly.

"Like the residents of Breeze Harbor."