Goblin Dependency
Chapter 97 - 72 Cemetery

Chapter 97: Chapter 72 Cemetery

Nearly summer, the sunlight was fierce.

The traces left by the torrential rain that poured all night vanished by midday, melted away under the sunlight.

Only occasionally, a tile blown off the street by fierce winds, and the grass huts collapsed by rainwater on the roadside, faintly displayed the fierce scene of last night.

A silver-white robin gently fluttered its wings, flying over a densely populated but dilapidated housing area, revealing behind it a chaotic graveyard standing with countless tombstones.

"Achoo!"

The half orc suddenly sneezed, rubbed his goosebump-covered arm, with a hint of complaint in his tone.

"Is this the place? You guys don’t usually maintain it?"

In his previous life, people often felt a "chilling atmosphere" in graveyards mainly because graveyards were typically built in open, remote areas with little vegetation and no tall buildings, allowing cold air to flow unimpeded, coupled with psychological factors in such unique environments.

But in this world, the sudden drop in temperature within the graveyard could indeed be due to the negative energy swirling in the air.

In many large cities with dense populations, there are even related churches and specialized municipal organizations that regularly inspect and maintain nearby graveyards to prevent certain adverse situations from occurring.

Kalanfor is just a small town on the Kingdom’s border, with its church only honoring "Amanata," naturally lacking such conditions.

Alton’s chatter brought a trace of embarrassment to the handsome, well-defined face of the sheriff.

Not knowing how to respond, he could only pretend not to hear, looking around to see if there were any suspicious traces nearby.

Xia Nan didn’t seem to care much about this.

Compared to that, he was more concerned about the Wooden Sword [Green Pine] which began to heat slightly after entering the graveyard with him.

He became alert in his heart.

Meanwhile, he felt more satisfied with this blue-quality weapon of his.

Even though he rarely used it, just carrying it on his back was like having a radar specifically against undead and snake and scorpion-type demons.

Very handy.

As his strength gradually improved in the future, when the sword’s strength couldn’t keep up, maybe he could use its characteristics to make some portable perception accessories.

He wondered if its Flame Sun damage could...

"Hey!"

The half orc’s voice interrupted Xia Nan’s daydreaming about the future.

"Isn’t there anyone around here who is somewhat familiar with the situation?"

He asked the sheriff.

"Yes, yes." Seeing the other no longer focused on the graveyard’s maintenance issue, Ingram relaxed a bit, nodding.

"I remember there is a tomb guardian who has been working for many years, he was already in town when I first came."

Saying this, he discerned the direction, leading the two deeper into the graveyard.

...

This is an especially shabby-looking little wooden house.

Its eaves were covered in cobwebs, and the windowsill was coated with a thick layer of dust.

Only faint traces of human habitation could be seen from the footprints in the muddy ground outside and the scattered garbage by the roadside.

"Knock, knock, knock."

Ingram’s robust body stood on the steps in front of the door, gently knocking on it.

"Who!?"

From inside, came a rather impatient male voice.

Accompanied by the sound of furniture dragging and floor rubbing, slow and dragging footsteps gradually approached.

Squeak—

The wooden door slowly opened outward from inside.

A thin, elderly man, aged seventy or eighty, with a full head of white hair, appeared behind the door.

"What do you..."

Suddenly catching sight of the sheriff in front of him, the tomb guardian’s originally somber and irritable expression halted.

A forced smile emerged on his face:

"Respected Mr. Ingram, may I ask what you need from me?"

Without any pleasantries, the sheriff got straight to the point.

"A passerby reported seeing something unclean in the graveyard."

"You’re the tomb guardian, did you notice anything unusual last night?"

Xia Nan clearly noticed that as soon as Ingram stated his purpose, the old man’s already bloodless face turned even paler.

"Unusual? No... no!"

As if a certain critical point was touched, the tomb guardian suddenly raised his voice, stammering in response.

"Last night, I slept very... very early, I know nothing!"

Standing to the side, Xia Nan couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his mouth.

The tomb guardian’s demeanor of "having a guilty conscience" was so obvious that even someone with no interrogation experience like him could see there was something off.

Having served as the sheriff of Kalanfor for many years, Ingram naturally noticed the other’s anomaly as well.

His gaze instinctively followed the half-opened door the elderly man had left ajar, inspecting the interior.

Bam—

It was as if this glance touched upon a fatal flaw for the tomb guardian.

Like some kind of stress response, the Night Watchman suddenly pushed the door.

While the door swung outward and hit the sheriff, the frail body ducked, sliding out like an eel.

Facing Xia Nan and the half orc blocking his way at the door, a fierce glint suddenly appeared in his cloudy eyes.

From his waist, he drew a dagger gleaming with a cold light, abruptly stabbing forward!

The unfamiliar surroundings of the graveyard and the heat of the Wooden Sword behind him kept Xia Nan on guard.

He reacted almost instantly as the other made a move.

"Thunk!"

The short dagger stabbed directly onto the Wooden Sword, making a somewhat subdued thud.

Xia Nan frowned slightly.

The Night Watchman’s stabbing speed was slow, with a force even a goblin couldn’t exceed.

As if he were truly just an ordinary old man.

Withdrawing the [Green Pine] due to the sword’s heat, facing the Night Watchman’s attack.

Although the hilt’s temperature increased further, no "Flame Sun" damage erupted in blazing light as it did last night.

Rapid thoughts flashed through his mind.

Since the other had proactively attacked him, there was no chance he would leave his hand.

The battle skills book he’d been diligently practicing for days hadn’t reached the point of mastering "battle skills," but it did provide Xia Nan with several defensive techniques.

With the wrist of his hand grasping the sword hilt pressing down and twisting, he felt the friction between the sword and dagger.

Suddenly upward!

"Block and Slash!"

Swish—

A short, dense sound of air being sliced resounded by his ear.

The pitch-black sword light briefly flashed.

"Ah ah ah!!!"

The skinny hand holding the short dagger, along with half a forearm, spun up amidst dazzling fresh blood.

The intense pain from the breaking of limbs nearly caused the Night Watchman to faint on the spot.

His body staggered as if he were about to fall in the next second.

Yet, amidst the wobbling, he maintained his balance.

With his remaining left hand trembling, he pulled out a bone whistle from his bosom.

Blowing it forcefully!

Beep—

The piercing whistle instantly echoed throughout the graveyard.

Xia Nan, holding his sword, intended to pursue, but he saw the Night Watchman throw the bone whistle forcefully onto the ground before him.

"Smack."

The pale bone whistle landed on the moist, soft black dirt, picking up a few droplets of mud.

Vibration.

The tremor coming from below.

Bang—

Clods of earth and fragments of stone splattered upwards.

A bony hand, reflecting a chilling, cold light, abruptly emerged from the earth.

Fingers clenched together.

Grasping the bone whistle tightly in its palm.