Claire stared at the carpet in silence.
It was not until she caught a glimpse of the shadow above - the shadow cast by the man behind the table began to wriggle, and those twisted objects emerged little by little, that she looked up, stared at the thing in the smoke and said, "I don't believe that the King of Gluttony would be so kind."
"You are not that kind of person, Tit-Felham. From what I know about you, if the Felham family and Farrell Palace will become history in three days, then you probably don't want to see other extraordinary families continue to exist..."
"so what."
A hoarse voice came from behind the smoke.
"so……"
Claire pouted and slowly backed away.
“So I’m inclined to end this collaboration.”
"I hope you won't do anything stupid, Mr. Fareham."
Her warnings had no effect.
Tite's distortion became more and more serious and exaggerated... The flesh and blood in the shadow gradually deviated from the human shape, became taller and bigger, and completely blocked the light above.
Just when Claire thought she was doomed, the oil lamp next to her burst into flames and a letter flew out of the flames.
Tite's distortion quickly went backwards.
He seized the letter in human form, looked at the wax, tore it open, and read in a low voice:
[Dear Fareham, I think what you did last Friday was both unjust and immoral.]
He paused, then continued:
[You may be wondering who I am and why someone like me knows your decision and the dirty things you did in secret, but I want to say that none of this is important. What is important is your response - if you do not announce the withdrawal of the resolution before midnight tomorrow, I will personally visit Farrell Palace and talk to you about this matter in person.]
"Midnight... 0 o'clock?"
After reading the letter, without even having time to lament the absurdity of its contents, Tite turned his head to look at the clock.
Coincidentally, the three needles overlapped at this moment - all pointing to the 12 o'clock position, and the clock began to buzz.
clang--
clang--
clang--
"Damn-!"
Tite's face began to distort.
He saw the door of the clock open by itself, and a thin figure bent over and stepped out from inside.
Hitzfeld squinted at the man, trying hard to see his face clearly, but at the same time a thin silver needle flew out of the envelope and pierced through Claire's head before she could do so.
"boom!"
The noise of a corpse falling.
The backtracking is over.
She shuddered and woke up again from the biting cold.
Chapter 63: Snowy Morning
Hitzfeld was still a bit conscious at first, but soon she felt her hands and feet were cold, and her whole body was frozen stiff as if she had been thrown into the snow.
This is... too exaggerated...
But this is a train.
On trains of this era, if you have to worry about indoor poisoning, fire and other problems instead of using a charcoal stove, then the temperature will drop very quickly when you are in an iron shell room facing ice and snow without multiple layers of barriers.
What's more, she was still holding the torn pages in her hands when she fell asleep, with her upper body completely exposed. The half-covered quilt was not enough to keep her warm.
Trembling, Hitzfeld pulled his hands back into the quilt, tucked the corner of the quilt tightly around his neck, curled up in the quilt, pinched his even colder feet with his cold hands, and finally buried his head in the quilt.
The blood flow rate increases as he wakes up, and the hot air exhaled during breathing is stored in the bedding, raising the temperature inside little by little.
Finally, she felt a little more alive.
Although it was still cold and her feet were still icy, she no longer felt stiff as if she was about to freeze to death, and she finally had time to do other things.
"Dong dong dong."
"Wang?"
The Sheldon lying on the bed opposite heard a knocking sound, pricked up his ears and opened his eyes, and saw a trembling hand stretched out from under the quilt over there, as if calling him.
It tilted its head and acted a little hesitant, but it finally jumped off the bed and wagged its tail to try to get closer.
"Woof!?" Then he was picked up from the ground, and the girl dragged the warm, furry body into the quilt and hugged it tightly.
"Woo! Aw!" The noise scared the big white dog a little. Mainly because the body that was holding it was too cold, and it was so cold that it couldn't adapt to it.
"Don't scream...be good..." Hitzfeld stroked its back as much as he could to comfort her. Thinking that no one could see her anyway, he spread his legs out to the sides under the quilt in an unladylike manner - like a frog, so that he could stuff both of his feet under Lily's belly.
"Woo woo!" Lily shuddered, her ears moving around on top of her head.
"Oh..." Hitzfeld groaned in relief, "I take back my prejudice. Ashley was very smart to bring you here..."
The noise might have alarmed the girl on the upper bunk. After a while of tossing and turning, Baliu's face dropped down from the upper bunk, and she was seen hugging the big white dog in the quilt for warmth.
Turning his head to look at Ashley, who was just covering herself with the quilt in a daze, Baliwu shook her head, jumped down from the stove and started to light a fire.
There was no one watching because she was worried about accidents, but now that she was awake, she would not just let her companions continue to suffer from the cold.
The flames in the furnace floated and rose. As the temperature in the room rose, Hitzfeld's life value was further replenished, and his body began to express more thirst - it was a churning sound.
Baliu said nothing, turned around and handed her something.
It was the uneaten bread that was left on the table last night.
She roasted it, and its originally pale white appearance now looked brown and crispy. Even if she didn't eat it, she could feel the heat rising up just by holding it in her hand.
"Thank you." After eating a few bites of bread and drinking a few sips of water, Hitzfeld was completely alive. She looked at Bariu: "Aren't you cold?"
"not cold."
"I should have thought of it earlier. Trees are not afraid of the cold..."
"Not really. Otherwise, why would trees drop their leaves before winter? The cold is devastating to everything, but the devil vine is indeed very resistant to it."
"I only knew before that the devil vine is not afraid of ordinary fire, and can even survive in the crater." Hitzfeld smiled, "Then aren't you invulnerable to water or fire?"
She remembered again how vines grew all over Baliu's body, entangled and transformed into a centaur.
It is immune to water and fire, can change at will, and has both hardness and toughness. Isn't this thing too strong?
"It's not that exaggerated. It will turn into charcoal if you bake it for too long." Baliu continued to put the kettle on the stove and stood up while replying to her.
"Are you going out?"
"Let's find something to eat." Bariu looked at the snow outside the window. "It's a new day, a new battle. We need to stay in good shape."
She is a reliable companion.
Watching her go out and close the door, Hitzfeld continued to curl up in the quilt and sighed.
When she sat up to eat and drink water just now, she noticed that the sky outside the window had already slightly brightened.
I looked at the watch. It was 5: in the morning.
The scenery was receding, but the car was still moving at a constant speed.
It seems that the journey last night was relatively peaceful and no accidents happened.
Although she was passively dragged into the flashback, Hitzfeld mentally had taken a nap. Although her condition was not good at this time, it was impossible for her to continue resting.
She simply picked up the remaining pages of the Undead next to her, and while hugging Lily to keep her warm, she flipped through the pages, her mind racing with thoughts.
First, she sorted out all the information she got from the retrospective.
Claire William.
The otherworldly world of Earth.
Weird mystery and feedback.
And the Hitzfell family, who were regarded as extraordinary enemies by those people and given nicknames such as Corpse Stitchers and Hounds.
There is no doubt that Claire died in the end.
Although flashbacks let her know that Claire was finally reborn in another form, she did not find any signs of her regaining sanity.
Rather than being reborn, it would be more accurate to say that the corpse mutated into a monster.
But she was carried to the cemetery by the servants of Farrell House. This shows that Farrell House was not completely destroyed, and even these low-level servants did not know what happened.
……how so?
Pinching his forehead, Hitzfeld was a little confused.
Now she was certain that the figure she had first glimpsed in her nightmare, the letter writer, should be the figure that finally stepped out of the clock.
With such means and predictive abilities, he is undoubtedly the extraordinary enemy that those people fear.
She was more surprised - Sista and the others had imagined how difficult the battle would be. After all, the extraordinary had been severely suppressed for hundreds of years, and they didn't even know the basic information about the enemy or how many people they had.
In the end, there was only one person who came to deal with Tite-Ferrum.
Is there only one so-called extraordinary enemy?
Are... they an organization, and they just happened to send this one person to deal with Tite, or is it that this person has been suppressing them from the beginning to the end, and this person has lived for hundreds of years like a living fossil?
"Whatever it was, why didn't you kill them all?"
The girl muttered to herself leaning against the pillow.
She could even analyze from the conversation between the two servants who delivered the corpse that Tit-Fellum was still alive!
This isn't the style of a corpse-stitcher...
So many extraordinary people who could be killed were terrified, and even Tite, who was almost at level 5 and 6, was forced to say, "There is little chance of success even if we burn ourselves to death," and made Sista say, "At least some people escaped and more information was brought out to achieve a breakthrough from zero"... The Corpse Stitcher was absolutely powerful and ruthless!
So Tite is dead.
Maybe he died with Claire, but the news never got out... Was the corpse-stitcher impersonating him?
Or maybe he forcibly controlled Tite, forcing him to do things just like using sewing thread to control a corpse.
Thinking of this possibility, the girl's brows furrowed even more.
If this is the case, then he should be planning to use Tite's identity to contact Sista and others in order to catch them all in one fell swoop.
The more prominent extraordinary families, extraordinary forces, and the Gates of Fate who had ideals in that era were most likely not to live long.
"This is a perfect plan." Hitzfeld tapped the book with his fingers. "It is possible that he is just a member of an organization, responsible for attracting attention and then surrounded by his companions..."
"…but it doesn't look like it."
This is intuition.
Judgments made based on the accumulation of information.
Because the wording of the letter was really arrogant, she couldn't imagine a person with such a personality working for others.
And judging from the nightmare, he had always lived alone. There was no sign of another person living in the room, so considering all factors, she was more inclined to believe that he had always been alone.
There is only one extraordinary enemy.
There is only one corpse stitcher.
Then... we can rule out any connection between him and the manor.
Quietly, she breathed a sigh of relief.
By tracing the secret books left behind by history, the Door of Life determined that the Hitzfell family was special and that the manor could travel back and forth in time. It even suspected that it was not something from this world. It felt that it was the enemy of the extraordinary itself, and was the dark cloud that had been weighing on all the extraordinary people for nearly a thousand years.
It is not clear whether they are the natives of Earth, but it is obvious that they are not corpse-stitchers.
Based on the extracted intelligence, Hitzfeld estimated that the cooperation between Tite and the Gate of Life was eventually predicted by the Corpse Stitcher, and the reason for that was probably because they misjudged their opponent.
Sista has repeatedly said that "I hope the plan will not affect mortals" because the Corpse Stitchers are "very sensitive" to this and are likely to kill them in advance through abilities such as "divination and prophecy."
They were indeed "foreknown" about what would happen next.
And the only "mortal" who might be affected by their plan seems to be "Hitzfell" - the ancient remnant tribe whom they regard as their enemy.
