The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1034 (Ch.1033) The Gray Tide
Who would like a mouse!

These dirty, smelly little black-haired monsters are always crawling in and out of the mud ditch!

Deloz gently patted Roland's chest.

“I’m not that special, sir.”

"So, at least you're not afraid of them anymore?"

“Of course! When we were little, I did my fair share of ‘battles’ for my sister!” Speaking of her timid sister, the brave little Delos could finally raise her chin proudly—and then she lowered it again.

She snuggled back into Roland's arms.

God!

My benefactor is above all!
How could this be—

The entire room was filled with rats.

When she was pulled up by Roland, her legs trembling, as if she were a scalded noodle, the young priests in the room seemed to be standing on a red-hot griddle—but soon, this 'pleasant' scene was tinged with a bloody stench.

The rats were different from the black-haired monsters that Delos had 'slaughtered' when he was a child.

They are two or three times the size of ordinary mice, with bright red eyes like red beans, and sharp, awl-like mouths filled with serrated teeth that can cut flesh and blood.

In the midst of Roland's actions of knocking her down, speaking, and pulling her up, some people had already been bitten until they were covered in blood, wishing they could tear off their arm bones and smash them against the back of the person being attacked.

The rat swarm is like the sea.

They tore through the walls and poured out of the broken openings.

"Gather together! Gather together! Go quickly! Go to the bishop! Go to Whitehall!" The young priest who was the first to react in the crisis waved his sharp candlestick and ordered the people around him to move closer to him—these inexperienced ritual practitioners had obviously not yet mastered the skills to survive when they fell into danger.

Unlike an executive officer in a courtroom.

Only those who can survive the clutches of cult members are qualified.

"Miss Kratoff!"

In a short while, four or five ritual practitioners had gathered around the young priest: they used books or anything else they could find as weapons. Except for a few sections of the road, most ritual practitioners before the Third Ring were no better than ordinary people.

"To Whitehall! Whitehall! Go down to the lower levels and ask for help!"

The gray-haired girl held up her index finger, as if breaking through the crashing edge of a wave, revealing a cone-shaped 'minced meat area' in front of her fingertip: this kind of unreserved release and outpouring of "secrets" could not be sustained for long by the "butchers" of the Third Ring Road.

She was cornered between two bookshelves.

The devotees, chanting 'Father of all things,' or other words that inspired one another, moved slowly through the swarm of rats that were almost ankle-deep.

Roland heard the leading young priest shout, "Don't look down!"

He shouted slogans, ordering the priests to huddle back-to-back and move to Sandel Kratofer's location on his command.

Deloz was pulled onto the table by Roland, covered his mouth, and trembled uncontrollably.

She did not listen to the priest.

She saw it.

The white bones of the rats, which were ankle-deep, were faintly visible.

The flesh on their feet was almost completely eaten away.

"Roland...we..."

Deloz had never been so afraid, so desperate. She could see the terror on the faces of the priests who were rescuing Sindel, and she could see the deformed, cone-shaped rat heads, their mouths filled with sharp, spiral-like teeth. She could even glimpse the street outside the window.

The streets have been overrun by rats.

This is the truly despairing place.

"us…"

Roland's expression turned grave: "We have to do something."

Deloz nodded subconsciously.

She can only rely on Roland now.

"Ready..."

and many more!

What are you going to do?! You still haven't told me what to do?!

Deloz frantically shoved and pushed, trying to stop the man who was kneeling and leaning over the table—he grabbed Deloz’s arm and the work bag at his waist and made a throwing motion: Deloz was very familiar with workers like this, who were everywhere on the docks.

"No! No! Roland! I'm not ready—at least—at least—I—I have no weapon—Roland—Roland—"

She was lifted off the square table.

It spun around like a waltz.

It landed on the other end of the square table.

The dazed girl stood on the table, watching Roland bend down, pick up a hair tie from where she had just left, and gently put it back into the girl's hand.

Deloz: ...

“This is not funny at all! Mr. Roland Collins! You can just tell me that!”

What time is it?!
My benefactor is above all!
“People who frequently walk on the edge of danger tend to be exceptionally young, Deloz. Rose says that women love youth the most, followed by young men—that’s how many of the judges in the courtroom stay young forever…they all died before they were thirty.”

If it weren't for the swarm of rats gnawing on human flesh under the table.

Deloz swore.

She vowed to twist Roland Collins' nose off with pliers!

At least give him a good whack on the butt!
"How could you do this at such a dangerous time—"

"Shhh."

Roland tugged at Delos's sleeve, gesturing for her to look at the other end of the room: the girl, her heart pounding in her throat, didn't immediately realize why the rats weren't climbing onto the table.

When did the small square table they were standing on become so smooth?

Except for the place where she stayed.

"Take a deep breath, Miss Craftsman."

Roland waved to the rescued Sender.

Deloz stared at him in disbelief—it seemed she had never really known Roland Collins.

On the other side, the rescued Sindel is being waded through the sea of ​​rats by the 'shield' formed by the priests.

"Listen to me! Everyone! And Miss Kratoff!"

The young priest was no longer able to stand at the forefront as the 'sword'—his ankle had been completely gnawed apart and was being supported by an older man.

But that didn't stop him from issuing orders in times of crisis.

"The room where we temporarily stored the captured items is at least safe! I assure you! The walls inside are specially made... and there's a door leading to the lower level... Miss Kratoff! I need you to clear away the rats in front of us as soon as we approach, and then our men will open the door..."

Sender responded softly.

Roland sat cross-legged on the square table watching them, while Deloz pulled a wrench out of his pocket—thankfully still there—and carried it around—even though no mouse could climb onto the table.

The priests had absolutely no hope for this golden-eyed 'woman' from the inquisition, and Roland's performance just proved them right:

This guy became an executive officer because of his face.

Once they're inside that safe room, there's no way anyone will be sent to rescue him—even if Miss Kratoff pleads.

And that craftsman.

A filthy, greasy woman...

"We're almost there! Watch out! Watch out!" the priest shouted, urging them to push the sideways wooden table as far to the sides as possible, creating space for Shandel Kratofer to unleash his power.

"Just five seconds!"

he shouted.

Behind him, a young priest holding two keys was already ready.

Once the swarm of rats ahead has been cut down, he must immediately rush forward and open the door that symbolizes hope…

They all survived.

Except for two people in this room.

(End of this chapter)