If she survived, she had a way to find it as well.
With a close peck on the girl's arm, the turnip spread its pure white wings and merged into the hazy night.
After disturbing the fallen leaves with a crowbar to cover the footprints on the ground, Dill touched a tree that was thick enough to climb it quickly on her hands and knees, making even one more gasp seem like a luxury.
The thick foliage and the night were the best cover, and Dill summoned up the skill she'd used to play hide-and-seek with Grace in Miller's Hollow, holding her breath as she hid in it. Grace was the best hunter of the witches, and if she could hide from her for five minutes herself, she could fool the half-assed pack of dire direwolves underneath.
Dill bet that they wouldn't think a five- or six-year-old girl was capable of climbing a tree.
She let out a small hiss; the skin on her palm was vaguely sore after a piece of it had been rubbed off earlier while climbing the tree.
Not even half a minute before Dill climbed the tree, the sound of footsteps was clear in her ears, one step on Dill's heart, and vaguely laced with some curses.
"Damn! Where'd she go?"
"We need to find her before dawn; damn, Silver Knight is already suspecting us just like the one before!"
"I told you we should have fed those outlanders prunes the first night! They won't bother us if they're sickly!"
Dill saw three or three people through the gaps in the foliage; a few of them were familiar faces, and there was the millinery owner's wife, who had clamored for the Cole family to be thrown into the forest that first day
The woman shouted hysterically, "There's not a trace left; Lily disappeared out of thin air. I told you she must be the child of the devil! Her mother was a witch! She put a spell on Peter's mother and sacrificed her life in an ancient witchcraft!"
"Molly, calm down; there's no witch... here," Dill heard the tired voice of the mayor.
"That ungrateful little brat attacked my husband! I was just going to end her pathetic suffering with a mouthful of sacking; now that I've changed my mind, I'm going to skin her for clothes!"
"A little girl can't run far; there are traps all around. Maybe she'll finish herself off."
"That would be best; with the missing arms and legs, we can say the werewolves did it."
The others eagerly discussed what they were going to do with Lily, their tones as natural as trying to detach a fat Christmas piglet, in which the mayor could be heard breathing in and out of lust.
Dill couldn't help but grit her teeth; her half-assed mesmerism was fine for controlling minions like the mayor, who had a weak conscience and a weak mind, but it was just a puff of choking smoke for the rest of the incorrigible murderers.
A few people under the tree argued for a few moments, and soon a gruff male voice made the decision:
"Post one person to guard each place; I'll be here; you guys look elsewhere; and eventually gradually narrow it down towards the center; watch out for fallen leaves on the ground and behind every tree trunk; and be careful not to step on any traps."
It was the troublesome Shuke.
Dill knew she wouldn't be able to get down anytime soon; she mentally called out softly to Laurel to check the two new skills she had gotten, and the moon elf at night was a little voice-assisted helper.
[[Crow C]]
[[Undermoon Magic LV1]]
Ravens are rumored to be messengers of the goddess of the undermoon, and they deliver prophecies of death, sorrow, and disaster to mortals.
Be sure to call out to the crows with caution, for the bad luck that comes out of your mouth will surely be realized.
"Crescent Moon Asylum A
*Crescent Moon Magic LV1
Finds life for the weak under the light of the crescent moon and has a chance to bring a girl or child from near death to health.]]
Dill couldn't help but let out a small huff. Undermoon magic and Crescent Moon magic—had she finally touched the edge of the Divine Favorites?
The young girl's desire to live intensified; she had to live to see Amber.
The [Crescent Moon Shelter] was obviously a blessing magic that she had unconsciously realized when she saved Lily, while the [Raven] was an advanced curse that had evolved from the [Ominous Omen]. Dill studied the explanation on it: Be sure to call out to the raven with caution, for the doom that comes out of your mouth is sure to come true.
Dill looked down at the alarmist who was keeping a lookout underneath. The fear she had felt before had long been swept away, and all she could feel was saliva in her mouth, leaping to her feet.
Before she was careful and deeply afraid of drawing fire, she could now use her imagination to her heart's content, just like a real witch.
Ka ...
The tree arm underneath her made a dangerous sound, and a familiar premonition flashed through Dill's mind as she subconsciously said, "Don't..."
Oh no!
Tree arm hard life break, Brahmin leaves such as heavy rain hectares and pans down, along with the tree and the person, were ruthlessly smashed on the ground.
Dill couldn't care less about shouting out in pain and immediately rolled over to avoid the man's attack. She picked up the bronze sword on the ground in her hand and put the cabinet on her back in front of her as a shield.
"So it's you, little mouse."
Shuke was wearing a coat made of brown bearskin, and the bear head on his head glared at Dill in a deadpan manner. He was the butcher of Jonestown, a tall, strong man, the backs of his hands gripping the iron cauldron sinewy and veiny, and smelling vaguely of blood.
Some people were more monsters than werewolves."By the way, you've been hanging out with the Cole family."
The iron axe framed the sword, the rusted bronze seeming unforgiving, and Dill struggled to hold up the weight on it, feeling fresh blood trickle down from a vaguely painful wound on her hand.
The man gave a smile with yellowed teeth and said, "Don't worry, I still have to ask your lovely Lily where she's hiding first; I don't think you can bear to have her alone for too long."
The fiery liquid slid all the way down her arm and into her sleeve. The old rose tattoo scar seemed to come to life with the blood, the searing pain seeming as if it was about to pierce her skin and bloom into a bright, blood-colored rose at any moment.
The young girl used an innocent, one might even say polite tone: "Can we go somewhere else then? You guys are moving so much; the werewolf will show up at any moment, and he's very sensitive [to] the smell of red and blood."
Snapping and clapping, a raven let out a raspy caw as its wings broke free of the tree net and flew merrily towards the night sky.
[Dill, do you know what you're doing?]. Even the elf huffed backwards at the witch's ruthless curse.
Shuke laughed out loud. "Silly girl, I'm your werewolf grandpa, or a nightmare that jumped out of your old grandmother's ghost stories."
She was, indeed, silly. Dill closed her eyes and gave a weak smile. She must have been insane.
"Your werewolf lord might not agree with that."
Before Shuke could taunt, something seemed to tickle in his ear, and the night wind seemed overly hot, like breath gulped from some behemoth, and he slowly turned away.
The gold glowed like shards of a blazing sun, flickering with a compelling light in the night.
Shuke opened his mouth wide, but it was like a black hole; no sound could come out of it anyhow, and that was the last expression he wore as an even taller darkness covered the figure of the man on the ground while the thing revealed itself out of the darkness.
The beast's low growl tore through the blackness.
Dill didn't dare to turn back; she ran wildly with no life, while behind her were the man's heart-rending screams.
The turf on the ground has a tendency to reduce; Dill found a trampled path; there are no traps here; you can vaguely see the outline of the building in front of the distinctive tree canopy; it is the hunter's resting cabin in the forest.
Dill quickened her pace to the door of the cabin and dove inside without thinking.
She didn't want to pray for the people outside the door at all.
Now the positions were reversed and they were the prey instead.
The young girl sat down weakly against the door panel; she couldn't help but let out a tearing sound and tugged at her sleeve. The old scar was hot as a burn at the moment.
Dill pulled out the scented packet from her cloak pouch with a shaky hand, and she couldn't help but bury her face in it and let out a long breath.
The elegant scent faded into the air, and human noses could hardly smell it, but to the wolves, it was so pungent that it was like a punch on their noble noses.
Huh?
Knock, knock, knock! Behind her was a sharp knock on the door, and before Dill could respond, a familiar voice came through the door.
"It's me."