Spreading death and despair, well, it was all said in plain sight.
Leon only felt a little ashamed and neutralized.
After signing the demonic contract, Leon felt that the world in front of him seemed to become a bit different, but he couldn't tell exactly.
God's Eye was activated!
[Name] Leon. Gugaman
[Identity] Son of the Lord of Lech City, Demon Contractor.
Strength: 2nd level warrior.
Magic 15, Spirit 20, Strength 45, Agility 30, Stamina 33, Deadliness 10.
[Title] None
[Skill] Deadly Aura Shock
His magic and spirit panels had increased by about ten points, and at the same time, there was an additional attribute called Deadly Aura, which should have been brought about by signing a contract with the Demon of Death.
Leon had an impression of this Dead Aura, which was a mechanism exclusive to Necromancers.
Magic power and spirit were quite important attributes for learning magic, but what was dead qi? It should be related to his new extra ability though.
Leon said in his heart, "No wonder Hurlan asked me to sign a contract with Rolmelas, this is quite an increase for necromancers."
With the goal accomplished, it was naturally time to withdraw, although there was no danger, Leon didn't want to stay in this place for long.
"Hey hey, don't be so heartless, ignoring me after signing the contract? Stay with me for a few more words." The Demon of Death Rolmelas pleaded.
Leon had no intention of ignoring him.
A hare ran past Leon's face, Leon's spirit condensed, and that hare instantly stayed in place, motionless.
Although that hare wasn't dead yet, it already thought it was dead.
Rolmeras boasted, ''Tch, kid's talent is good, you can use the ability you just arrived with. When your death aura accumulates to a certain level, you can plunge a city into death and fear in an instant."
Without any fluctuation in his heart, Leon lifted the rabbit and mounted Cru.
"Ride-"
...
Inside the Kazir Bar.
"Oh? Kid, pretty sharp."
Leon carried a keg to Hurran.
"Mr. Hurran ..."
Helran raised his hand to interrupt him, "You can call me teacher."
Although it was very weak, Hurlan had felt the pure death aura in Leon's body. This kid, very talented.
"Teacher."
"Hmm." Helan took out a magic guide book from his spatial ring and placed it in front of Leon.
Leon recognized this, the necromancer's transfer prop, the Book of Sighs.
"Take this back and delve into it, if there's anything you don't understand, you can come and ask me."
Suddenly, Leon thought of a pretty important thing, "Teacher, will I come to the tavern to find you afterward?"
The one in front of him was a living, breathing person, not an NPC that would sit here all the time.
Hurlan casually wrote down an address on the note and threw it on the table.
Kosroton Street, number 116.
"If I'm not at the tavern, I should be at the store." Hurran yawned, "Back to it."
Suddenly, Hurran stopped in his tracks, "By the way, your kid has a bad reputation in Lech City, right? Then you better be careful lately."
Oh?"
"There's a guy from the Holy Church that recently came to Lech City ... huh, but don't be afraid, that guy's strength is only fourth rank, if you hide behind your father properly, there shouldn't be any danger." Helan looked at Leon with a teasing look, "Although I'm willing to be your teacher, I won't step in to help you in anything other than teaching magic."
Hurran walked out of the tavern, humming an off-key song as he walked away.
Lech Cemetery.
Old John is the graveyard keeper here.
Old John was in his eighties, and should have been living in peace, but to him, this was his home.
His father, his wife, his children, all lie in it, and in a few years, he himself will lie in it, a whole family.
It was a cold place, very few people came here, but old John was happy with that, he liked the quiet when one was old, he enjoyed the solitude, he had gotten used to being alone at night, looking up at the starry sky here.
Lately, though, a young lad had been coming to the cemetery often, almost every two days.
Old John didn't know him, or rather, most of the townspeople Old John didn't know, and the only ones he knew better were the old ladies in the food market, and the vendors selling oil lamps, only these were not indispensable to him, nothing else mattered.
Maybe that young man has just lost the most important person in his life, seeing him, old John is like seeing his own youth, can not help but rise a trace of sympathy.
But what made Old John a little strange was that on that young man's face, there were no obvious traces of grief.
But sometimes when he came out of the cemetery, he looked tired and heartbreaking.
What a tough kid.
But unfortunately, Old John couldn't help him much, Old John was just an aging grave keeper.
Until one day, Old John saw the young man coming out of the graveyard with a look of excitement and thrill on his face.
Old John: ????
Old John sensed that something was wrong.
From then on, the young man came to the cemetery with the same frequency of once every two days, and each time he came out of the cemetery, the smile on his face grew stronger and stronger.
It was not like he had come to visit a dead deceased person, but more like he had come for a picnic.
But who would have a picnic in a cemetery? Though the scenery here was indeed quite nice, and the cemetery was surrounded by a field of colorful flowers that had been planted by the Lord Lord of Lech City.
Old John thought of a possibility, he felt that the young man, perhaps, had come to steal the tribute.
The more Old John thought about it, the more he felt that there was this possibility, that young man all came in the evening when the sun was about to set, there wouldn't be any people in the cemetery at that time, making it convenient for him to do something unseemly.
If that was really the case, then he must catch this shameless little thief and educate him properly.
After all, this was his job.
Here he comes.
Through the cloudy glass of the hut, Old John saw the young man again, empty-handed, heading deeper into the cemetery.
Old John removed the longbow that hung by his bed, when he was young, he was an excellent hunter, and had even hunted some of the magical creatures in the Sierras.
In his old age, Old John's eyes weren't very good, but that didn't stop him from shooting his bow and arrows into the chests of thieves.
Old John crept hand in hand behind the young man, wanting to see what he was up to.
Finally, the young man stopped in front of a tombstone and looked intently at the life of the owner on it.
Old John had an impression of this tombstone; his owner had been buried only a few days ago, and none of the flowers placed in front of the tombstone had wilted.
Suddenly, the young man bent down and tapped the ground in front of the headstone.
"Hello, Mr. Smith."
Old John thought curiously: hmm? What's he doing? Does he think the dead will come back to him? That's ridiculous.
Then Old John's pupils suddenly closed.
He heard two dull sounds coming from the ground, like Mr. Smith knocking on the coffin board.
"Knock knock (hello)."