Alcazaba is the name of the castle on the top of the inner hill in this port city.
The undead dug down the mountain at the bottom of the castle and built the infamous "Mourning Palace". It is said that there are a large number of cells, torture chambers and torture chambers underground to torture people from the La Mancha Plateau in the north.
Transported human prisoners of war.
Since the ghosts themselves must be born from the corpses of human beings who have suffered painful torture before death, residents around the Mourning Underground Palace will often hear waves of horrific screams at night; and every other week, ghosts will be transported from the castle.
A large number of corpses were found, pushed directly to the beach and dumped.
Of course, the reason why Wraith Spirits are produced in large quantities is just because of the hobby of the Wraith Spirit Demigod in the underground palace.
The birth of many specific undead races has special conditions and requirements for corpses. For example, a banshee must be a female corpse, so as long as a female transcendent is found and killed, the impact on the people will not be that great.
The conditions for the birth of resentful spirits are relatively harsh, so the citizens are also silent, and there are baseless rumors everywhere. For example, "people will be randomly picked up on the street and tortured", which led to a period of time when no one dared to go out, even if they went out.
He also did it secretly, for fear of being seen by the undead.
Eleanor, whose face was covered, sat silently in the tavern, listening to everyone's suppressed conversations, and she couldn't help but feel an uncontrollable sadness in her heart.
She originally thought that the harm caused by war to human beings would be nothing more than allowing living lives to rush and kill each other on the battlefield for the sake of an illusory victory. However, she never thought that human beings would one day become raw materials and be used by the undead for various purposes.
This kind of unscrupulous and cold "processing"...
Before, she might have been so angry that she couldn't control herself. But now she has already understood that simply drawing the sword can't change anything.
The root of the war lies in the aggressive war launched by the Kingdom of the Dead in Iberia.
And what she really wants to do is just end this war.
Medea sat opposite her, drinking wine in her leisure time, observing the expression on Eleanor's face calmly.
"Aren't you angry?" she suddenly whispered.
"Anger doesn't have to show on your face," Eleanor replied calmly.
"Yeah." Medea turned her head slightly, "He's here, look around for me."
Eleanor nodded imperceptibly, and the fog of will spread and soon enveloped the entire tavern invisibly.
The words of everyone present, the slight movements on the faces, the small movements under the table, all the details were under her control. The detection range continued to expand, and soon spread to the street in front of the pub.
Even the invisible banshee passing above the street was nowhere to be seen within her detection range. If an undead approached quietly, she would be able to detect it immediately.
Medea stood up, her charming face covered by her hood, with only half a strand of wine-red hair hanging down from the edge, playfully curled.
Although her face was not seen, the alluring body curves looming under her robe immediately attracted the attention of many drinkers.
Douglas, who had just sat down at the wine table, was one of them. He was a slave trader, and he had just sold a group of human prisoners of war in the northern La Mancha Plateau in the city. Although the women he had seen could be worth tens of thousands.
Counting, but this was the first time he encountered such a stunning beauty.
Yes, stunning.
Douglas had absolute confidence in his ability to see people. For example, for those prisoners of war, he could tell their previous occupations with just one glance. Hunters have well-developed back muscles, lumberjacks have strong biceps, and farmers have stronger waists than others.
The profession is rougher... And this woman, judging from the slender way she walks, is obviously the most seductive type who has been specially trained.
However, judging from the range of movements, she is not the common tavern wandering. The wandering will deliberately twist her buttocks extremely hard to show off her figure to the greatest extent. But this woman’s range of movements is just right. This can probably be attributed to
One reason is that her face is pretty enough, so she doesn't need to highlight her perfect figure too much.
The face, body, and manner of speaking constitute the complete temperament of the whole person. This woman's temperament is integrated, and it is definitely not comparable to those wandering orioles who rely on plump figures to attract people.
Douglas, who was thinking this way, saw that the other party had already walked to his wine table, slowing down slightly... Could it be that he had something to say to him?
He was stunned for a moment, and then became excited immediately. He never thought that I could have an affair!
As soon as the slightly peach-colored thought flashed through his mind, Medea's spiritual thread hit him, and Douglas's original consciousness was immediately interrupted.
Being controlled, he picked up the wine glass according to Medea's order and continued to drink wine dully, while Medea turned around and returned to Eleanor's table.
"Let's go." She whispered, meaning the control was successful.
Eleanor stood up and left the tavern with Medea. A few drinkers around her quickly got up and sneakily tried to follow them. However, they were prompted by a group of Medea's minds and forgot what they originally wanted to do.
A few minutes later, Douglas finished his drink silently, then stood up and walked outside the pub.
Several of his accompanying guards quickly followed, not noticing anything strange about their boss.
Half an hour later, Douglass walked out of his slave farm again. The number of guards around him had increased to twelve, leading a team of eight prisoner-of-war slaves. All the prisoners-of-war had their limbs and tendons cut off, and were tied with blood-stained chains.
Chains, walking forward feebly.
Douglas' eyes swept over the person at the end of the team. She was a tall female transcendent, and her level was not low, which was quite in line with the "material" characteristics required by Sir Ansara.
Everyone moved forward quickly and soon went up the mountain and arrived at the gate of the Alcazaba castle.
Douglas chatted with the wizard apprentice waiting in front of the door for a few words, pointed at the tall female extraordinary at the end of the team, then handed over all the slaves to the other party, settled the account and left.
The wizard apprentice led the slaves into the castle, and all the way down to the underground palace of mourning, they suddenly saw a banshee floating in front of them.
"What are these?" the banshee asked, her voice as ethereal as a ghost, and her hoarseness carried some evil aura of bewitchment.
"The materials that Teacher Ansara needs." The wizard apprentice said respectfully, his head lowered and he did not dare to raise it.
"It just so happens that the materials for the resentful spirits in the underground palace are gone." The banshee said slowly, "I want to pick a few people from your team to fill the vacancies on our side."
"Please choose whatever you want." The wizard apprentice secretly complained, but did not dare to refuse the other party directly.
Through vague spiritual induction, he noticed that the other banshee was of a very high level and looked very strange. She was probably not an undead creature created by his teacher.
In other words, they are the subordinates of the resentful demigod.
If there is a conflict with the other party, the wizard apprentice has no doubt that he will be thrown directly to the other party by the teacher and become a member of the vengeful spirit material warehouse. Therefore, he can only try to maintain a respectful attitude and secretly pray that at least that high-quality woman
Extraordinary people should not be drawn by the opponent.
The high-level banshee circled around the team, tapping one, two, three, four, five, six, seven... with each tap, the despair in the wizard apprentice's heart became stronger.
It wasn't until the other party finished counting all seven people and left him only the female transcendent at the end of the team that the wizard apprentice seemed to have suddenly crawled out of hell, showing an overjoyed expression.
This...I understand. The other party also knew that this kind of high-level female transcendent was suitable for making banshees, so he deliberately left it to the teacher!
No wonder, this woman is also a banshee after all, so how can she reject the increase in the number of people of the same race around her?
After bidding farewell to each other respectfully again, the wizard apprentice took the only female transcendent left in the team and continued to walk to the lower level of the palace.