Then let the witch offer her loyalty

In other words, the closer something is to death, the harder it is to kill.

The only thing that can restrain this power is the erosion of madness.

Using psychic energy inevitably leads to the accumulation of madness and corruption, and this applies to any witch, including Wolf Moon.

Alexander looked at Wolf Moon's figure and couldn't help but smile, his admiration tinged with genuine respect: "Putting everything else aside, having this little guy around during a fight is quite reassuring."

The voice was very soft; theoretically, only Chen Moxin, who was standing next to him, should have been able to hear it.

However, Wolf Moon's ears, which had been drooping, suddenly twitched in the distance, as if it had caught something.

Then, her gaze swept sharply in their direction, she wiped the still-dry blood from the corner of her mouth, pointed at Alexander, and yelled, "Golden Hair! You dare call me 'Little Bean' again? Are you that big? Let's fight!"

Alexander quickly turned around, put his hands in his pockets, pretended not to have heard anything, and muttered in a low voice, "Damn... I forgot, she has very sharp hearing..."

Chen Moxin waved to Lei Lie, who was driving the jeep behind them: "Lei Lie, drive over there. This group of dead criminals should have some supplies. Let's search them together."

Lei Lie nodded, drove the jeep over the gravel and shell casings, and arrived at the edge of the battlefield.

The air was thick with the lingering smell of gunpowder and blood. Various remnants of the previous battle lay silently on the road, with overturned armored vehicles, broken guns, and scattered corpses everywhere.

The stench of blood was overwhelming, so strong it made their noses sting. Fortunately, both of them were hunters and were immune to such things.

The two began searching separately.

Chen Moxin went to the bodies of the dead and searched their pockets one by one, finding some still intact military compressed rations, which she put into her pocket.

Some of the overturned armored vehicles were completely destroyed by Wolf Moon, while others, though seemingly badly damaged, actually had intact fuel tanks with a considerable amount of fuel remaining.

Chen Moxin and the others had not found much fuel in the city before, and they originally planned to find a gas station to resupply along the way.

Now that this battle has been won, fuel has been replenished, saving a lot of time on the journey.

The two men found empty oil cans, inserted the fuel extraction hoses into the fuel tanks of those vehicles, extracted the fuel, and stored it for later use.

The oil from several vehicles was drained, and the oil drums were almost full.

Lei Lie grinned and said, "With so much fuel, as long as nothing unexpected happens on the road, it's enough to drive straight to our destination."

After searching around again and confirming that there were no other usable supplies, the two prepared to return to the convoy and lead everyone on their way.

Before leaving, Chen Moxin suddenly realized that Lang Yue was gone.

He only realized something was wrong now. Logically speaking, Wolf Moon should have cursed after each fight, saying things like he hadn't killed enough and wanted to keep killing.

But during the search for supplies, he didn't hear Wolf Moon's voice at all.

Chen Moxin scanned the surroundings and quickly spotted Lang Yue crouching behind the destroyed tank, his back swaying slightly as if he were busy with something.

If a child is quiet, they must be up to no good.

Chen Moxin walked over without making a sound, ready to find out what was going on.

As he got closer, he first heard a strange "thump-thump" sound, as if something was colliding with each other.

Walking around to the tank wreckage, Chen Moxin peeked out and finally saw Wolf Moon's "masterpiece".

As expected, Wolf Moon once again displayed her traditional skills.

Her hands were covered in blood as she piled up the heads of the dead soldiers into a mound.

Wolf Moon was focused, and by this time she had piled up the mound of heads to be half a person's height. Every time she put a head on top, she would carefully adjust the angle to ensure that they were placed upright and stable on this wickedly funny pile.

She pried open the eyelids of each of the dead apostles' heads, leaving them wide open, unfocused, gazing up at the sky. Blood dripped from their ruptured necks, pooling into dark red puddles on the ground.

Wolf Moon was clearly enjoying the process, humming strange little tunes as he ran his fingers over each skull, feeling their bones to determine the best place to put them.

These structures, built from stacked heads, are crooked and seem on the verge of collapse, but thanks to Wolf Moon's superb skills, they are actually perfectly balanced and as stable as can be.

Chen Moxin stood beside him with her arms crossed, shaking her head helplessly: "I'm really impressed with you. Don't you ever get tired of this? Let's go, we need to leave."

Wolf Moon didn't turn around, but he perked up his ears, waved his hand, and said with a grin, "Right away, right away, I'll just stack a few more, and we'll have 88 heads."

Chen Moxin clicked her tongue: "Hurry up, or I'll kick them all out."

Wolf Moon seemed to have had its tail stepped on, and quickened its pace, saying, "Alright, alright, coming, coming."

She carefully placed the last few heads steadily on top of the Jingguan, completing the final capping.

After parking it securely, she took a few steps back to admire it, nodded in satisfaction, and then followed Chen Moxin back to the convoy.

Alexander used his psychic powers to clear away all the metal debris piled up on the road and push it to both sides.

The delayed convoy started again and drove away from the scorched and devastated battlefield, leaving only the eerie and terrifying mound of corpses behind.

Chapter 232: Dog barking?

The night was deep, thick clouds pressed down on the sky, silencing the moonlight high above. Only the wind murmured in the wilderness, and the damp, cold air was filled with the smell of blood and decay.

The road in the suburbs was covered with mottled black and red stains, bloodstains swallowed by the night. They had dried and become sticky with the passage of time, and the smell of blood wafted through the air when the wind blew.

Numerous broken corpses lay scattered about, and several coyotes were curled up beside them, tearing at the remaining flesh and blood. The sounds of chewing mixed with the cracking of bones were particularly jarring in the silent night.

Just as the coyotes were enjoying their meal, a faint tremor suddenly came from the horizon.

At first, there were only slight tremors, but as time went on, the vibrations became larger and larger, as if some enormous creature was approaching.

The coyotes' ears suddenly perked up, and they all raised their heads, blood dripping from their mouths down their jaws and splattering onto the ground as tiny black dots.

They let out faint growls, tucked their tails between their legs, and instinctively shrank back.

At this moment, as the wind direction changed, a strong burning smell entered the air, the distinctive smell of fuel burning in an engine, so thick it almost blocked the airway.

Sensing something was wrong, the alpha wolf crouched low, turned tail, and fled into the thick darkness.

Seeing their leader escape, the other coyotes abandoned the unfinished carcass and disappeared into the night.

The cold wind whipped up the ashes on the ground, brushing past the bloody remains.

A short while later, a light appeared in the darkness—it was a car headlight in high beam mode.

Soon, more lights began to illuminate the horizon, and the deep roar of engines spread around.

If viewed from above, it would appear to be an extremely large convoy, densely packed along the road, stretching as far as the eye can see.

The convoy was very complex, consisting of ordinary family cars as well as crudely modified ones with messy iron spikes and steel bars welded to their steel plates.

Even worse, the vehicle was covered in patches of dark, dried blood, and human corpses were stuck in the wooden handles or iron bars standing on the roof.

Countless car headlights filled the sky, forming blinding bands of light across the desolate outskirts, while the roar of engines drowned out all other sounds.

On the roof of the modified heavy truck at the very front stood a sturdy figure—a tall woman with long, messy hair that flew wildly in the wind, the occasional glint of the truck headlights in her hair sharp as a blade.

Her skin was a sickly grayish-white, her eyes were sunken, her pupils looked as if they were filled with ink, and her face was covered with thorn-like black marks, making her look extremely ferocious.

Her hands were clasped together as if grasping something unseen, her fingertips trembling slightly in the air, not from the cold, but from feeling an invisible force flowing into her body.

The mouth was constantly twitching slightly, as if it were murmuring in a low, disordered tone, like it was having a conversation with something unseen. Occasionally it would suddenly stop, grinning to reveal a smile that was a mixture of ecstasy and malice, a smile that was completely unlike any human emotion.

At the same time, dark purple light and shadow surged around her, affecting a large area of ​​the surrounding space.

Dead zone.

This is a witch who has erupted with madness.

Just then, several figures emerged from the roof compartment and approached the witch.

These people also had thorn-like black marks around their eyes, their eyeballs bulging slightly, and their expressions were excited and ferocious; they were all Death Apostles.

Unlike ordinary people, the minds of these Dead Apostles had long been corrupted by madness. The death field around the witch had no effect on them. In fact, the dark purple ripples acted as a catalyst, making their minds even more excited.

The foremost Dead Apostle, carrying a steel pipe, tilted his head to look at the witch, casually spat to the side, and revealed a sinister smile: "Heptoch."

The moment the witch's name was uttered, without warning, she suddenly moved.

Hertoch's movements were swift and decisive, without any unnecessary effort, as he grabbed the Dead Apostle's head with a backhand.

"Click——"

Hertoch crushed the head with a single hand, blood and bone fragments gushing out and splattering onto her cheek and shoulder.

The headless body of the dead assailant instantly lost its strength, and the steel pipe slipped from his hand, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

Hertoch released his grip, and the Dead Apostle's corpse fell like a sack of flesh, its head now unrecognizable as flesh and blood, lying on the ground convulsing wildly.

"I told you, when you call my name—"

Hertoch withdrew his hand, wiping the blood splattered on his cheek with his fingertips. Instead of shaking it off, he put it into his mouth and savored its sweetness. His eyes, filled with a sinister smile, swept over the other Dead Apostles around him.

"The word 'Ms.' should be added."

The remaining members of the Death Pirates were not afraid of their companion's death; in fact, they became even more excited at the sight of blood and corpses.

They grinned, using this twisted smile to indicate that they understood.

The convoy continued along the suburban road, the heavy wheels crunching on the gravel and sand, making a series of "crunching" sounds, mixed with the howling of the wind as it swept by.

As they drove, Hertoch suddenly noticed something and said into the communicator, "Stop the car."

Soon, the massive convoy came to a slow stop.

The wind blew across the wasteland, and a smell mixed with the stench of rotting flesh and burnt meat filled the nostrils, along with a nauseatingly sticky odor.

Hertoch jumped out of the car and looked ahead using the headlights of the convoy.

It was a battlefield ruin, with twisted metal pieces scattered among the sand and gravel. They were probably parts of some kind of armor or weapon, now all brutally torn apart, bearing the marks of being scorched by high temperatures.

The dried bloodstains on the ground were covered by a dark brown film of sand and dust. The mutilated corpses lay scattered in the sand, beaten beyond recognition, with only their military uniforms remaining as identification.

There were also dense wrecks of armored vehicles on both sides of the road, more than a dozen armored vehicles were smashed to pieces, and a tank was torn apart with its turret ripped off.

Clearly, a fierce battle took place here.

Or, strictly speaking, it wasn't a battle, but a one-sided crushing and massacre.

Judging from the freshness of the body, it must have happened today.

Hertoch walked to the center of the battlefield, when suddenly his gaze was drawn to something.

It was a tall, raised "pyramid," not formed naturally, but made up of many heads stacked together, interlocking and fitting together to form a Jingguan (a mound of heads).

This bloody and brutal creation made Hertoch's lips curl into an uncontrollable smile, as if he were admiring a breathtaking work of art.

She tilted her head back slightly, inhaling deeply the putrid smell of blood into her nostrils, and an unprecedented excitement flashed in her eyes.

"interesting."

Just as Hertoch was admiring the mound of skulls, he suddenly seemed to sense something, and his eyes abruptly turned to the western horizon.

The wind whistled past his ears, and Hertoch's earlobes trembled slightly. The violent killing intent in his eyes grew stronger, like a beast that had caught the scent of its opponent.

...

Inside the bus, the sounds of the engine and the wind mingled together, creating a monotonous, repetitive noise.

This journey is very long, and Chen Moxin was originally thinking about whether to travel 24 hours a day to make the most of her time.

But then I thought, whether it's a witch or a proxy, they are all human at heart, and not resting for a long time will reduce their combat efficiency.

There aren't enough people in the team to rotate shifts.

We can't exactly let Zhou Si and the others drive.

Regardless of whether they were willing or not, Chen Moxin was still worried.

These upper-class people are pampered and don't even know how to hold a gun. They have no tactical awareness whatsoever, let alone the ability to march at night and deal with emergencies.

Moreover, the Dead Apostles don't have the good habit of going to bed early and waking up early.

According to some research data, the Dead Apostles were so excited that they were unable to fall asleep and would be active day and night.

A string of car lights driving across the wilderness at night is tantamount to actively telling the Death Walkers—there are people here, come and kill them.

After careful consideration, Chen Moxin found a place for everyone to rest after nightfall.

It was an abandoned factory. The exposed steel bars on the walls were pitted and eroded by wind and sand, and the doors were covered with dark red rust. It was clear that it had been abandoned for many years and no one had been here for a long time.

Chen Moxin had the convoy drive into the factory and park behind the high wall, so that even if someone passed by on the outer road, it would be difficult for them to notice them.

After filling up the car with gas, everyone prepared to eat.

Lighting a fire at night would easily reveal their location, so the whole team made do with eating dry rations in the bus.

To avoid noise, Chen Moxin did not allow the vehicle to be running. The cramped carriage was very cold, and the lights were off. Only the city light pollution in the sky made everyone's faces look gray.

At this moment, the sounds of chewing, swallowing, and the crumpling of plastic packaging mingled together, sounding exceptionally clear in the quiet carriage, occasionally accompanied by a few coughs.