Gauss, Nancy, and Elton each had a different expression.
But overall, they were all very surprised.
Nancy’s mouth moved slightly as she looked at Gauss, not knowing what she was thinking.
"Well done! Gauss, lad!" Sorin, although initially disappointed that he hadn’t personally dealt with the Demon Race, soon pushed those feelings aside.
He strode over and gave Gauss a hearty slap on the waist.
"You’re built quite well."
Even though he had already witnessed Gauss’s strength at Outpost 11, knowing he wasn’t just a decorative facade, the urgency of that night had prevented him from closely observing Gauss’s situation.
Now, upon closer inspection, Gauss’s abilities seemed even more impressive than he had anticipated.
"Thank you. But it was also because Sorin had severely injured it in advance, making it easier for me to handle." Gauss chuckled, pulling back from his combat-ready state and reining in the fierce aura from the battle.
Meanwhile, he discreetly flexed his right hand.
"Haha, teamwork!" Sorin laughed heartily and then turned his gaze to the rapidly melting filth on the ground, furrowing his brows.
"It is indeed the Demon Race, and it seems the village’s strange situation is closely tied to it." Priest Elton approached.
As the holy symbol in his hand emitted a pure white light, the liquid on the ground was ultimately burned away from this world.
"Let’s return to the village and gather some information." Elton suggested proactively.
They weren’t far from the village, and the commotion here must have reached the village already.
The group tidied up and headed towards the village.
Sorin and Gauss walked ahead, with the others following behind.
The village was pitch dark, but thankfully Gauss cast a Light Spell to illuminate a few staffs, and the bright, clean glow dispelled the darkness, lighting up the area around them.
The sunset-bathed village became even more lifeless as night fell.
The low-clay houses cast huge shadows under the Light Spell, and a strange odor filled the night air of Rolling Stone Village.
All the houses were tightly closed, including the windows sealed shut.
"Let’s go see that old man," Gauss suggested, remembering the location of the house of the old man they had spoken with.
Although his attitude wasn’t great, he was at least willing to interact, more so than others.
Moreover, Gauss sensed that the old man didn’t seem entirely resistant towards them, but appeared to have some unspoken concerns.
"Knock, knock!"
Arriving at the old man’s door.
Gauss stepped forward to knock.
There was no response.
But Gauss could hear some faint rustling inside, indicating the occupant knew someone was at the door, intentionally pretending to be asleep.
"Knock, knock!"
Sorin also stepped forward and banged on the door. Compared to Gauss, his actions were rougher. When no one answered, he shouted towards the house.
"Old man, if you don’t open the door, we might have to break it down."
Following Sorin’s threat, the door quickly opened.
The old man who had previously driven them away stood at the door, staring at them with an expression of disbelief as if he’d seen ghosts.
"You’re actually still alive?"
"Should we be dead?" Gauss replied with a smile.
"Old man, the big monster that looked like a rat, we’ve already killed it."
Upon hearing this, the old man’s cloudy eyes scanned the group, finally resting on Gauss. His throat bobbed, speaking in a dry voice, "You... really killed it?"
His already hunched body shivered even more, becoming thinner.
"Absolutely," Sorin patted his chest armor. "Our priest purified the body, not even a trace remains."
The old man trembled, stepping back to make way at the door.
"Come... come in, don’t alarm the others."
As he closed the door tightly, even having heard that the Demon Race was dead, his heavy expression didn’t lighten at all, sparking doubt in Gauss’s mind.
Such good news should bring relief, if not outright joy.
The room didn’t have much furniture, and a musty odor mixed with the bitter scent of herbs filled the air. The only oil lamp on the table flickered, casting erratic shadows.
The old man fumbled to light another oil lamp.
It seemed that learning of the demon’s defeat softened the old man’s demeanor slightly towards them.
"Please sit down, adventurers. As you can see, there’s not much here to offer you," the old man gestured to several crude wooden stools, sitting by the bed himself, nervously rubbing his clothes.
Gauss noticed the old man’s gaze occasionally darting towards the window, as though wary of something.
With a smile, Gauss spoke gently.
"Old man, do you know the origins of that monster we just encountered?"
Gauss’s charm wasn’t just for show, and his warm, sunshine-like smile visibly eased the old man’s anxiety.
His mouth moved, initially reluctant to speak, but Gauss’s gentle smile after a moment’s pause prompted a long sigh.
"That monster is a curse, the demon’s curse on Rolling Stone Village."
The old man lifted his shirt, revealing gray hair growing on his hunched body.
"The demon cursed you?" Nancy exclaimed in surprise.
Demons, born in the Abyss, embody chaos and evil, devoid of mercy, compassion, and kindness to the living, existing solely for destruction.