Yarra's Adventure Notes-Chapter 1371 - 157 Leaders

"Thud," the bone door of the tavern was kicked hard from outside, creaking and shaking persistently but remained staunchly closed without any indication that it would open. The person outside fell silent for a few seconds, seemingly stunned, then gave the door a gentle tug, and it opened effortlessly. A wave of unrestrained laughter flowed in from outside the now open door. Accompanied by a raspy but loud complaint, a short figure, likely a goblin Undead, meandered in. The diminutive goblin seemed to be a Necromancer, clutching a bone magic staff, its shriveled skin tightly wrapped around its skeletal frame. Its once perky nose had collapsed, and its pointed ears drooped down at the sides of its head; its green skin had turned purplish-black, looking even more dreadful than Kenseth, whom they had seen transformed from a human corpse into a Necromancer.

"Damn Shiela, you guys did this on purpose," the goblin Necromancer complained loudly as he entered the tavern, "In everyone else’s house, doors open inwards. Why did you have to pick a tavern with a door that opens out? It’s downright malicious."

"Because usually, doors are meant to be opened with hands," Shiela replied with disdain in their presence, a far cry from the polite demeanor she showed in front of Catherine and her companions, "I didn’t expect that, besides my family’s Kors, there would be other Undead who’d use their feet to open doors."

"Bastard, don’t think I don’t know that Kors is your family’s delivery horse skeleton," the goblin Necromancer responded quickly, catching on almost immediately. He jumped up on the spot, raising his staff as if to start an argument with the female Ghost, but he turned his head and saw the tall Skeleton sitting next to the Ghost at the same long table. The moment he saw Saen, the goblin’s previously fierce voice diminished immediately, he cleared his throat and, with a smile while rubbing his hands, said, "Ah, Mr. Saen is here too, haha, it’s really been a long time, Mr. Saen."

"Rattle rattle." Saen’s skull bore no expression, yet the flickering of the three Soul Fires strangely conveyed a mocking sentiment.

"Haha, indeed, if you had applied just a bit more force, you could have kicked the door open," Shiela obviously understood Saen’s unique language, chuckling sarcastically, "Little Mil, every time I see you, even a serious Undead like Saen can’t help but laugh at you. From a certain perspective, you should be quite proud of yourself."

"I don’t want to be proud of that at all, it’s always like this with you lot, not a single time without the sarcasm," complained the goblin Necromancer Mil, dissatisfied, "I warn you, although we’re good friends, if this keeps up, be careful I..."

"Idiot Mil, get out of the way," Mil was interrupted before he could finish speaking, suddenly rushing towards the direction of the long table. Observing his staggering steps, it was clear that this was not of his own volition. Behind him, an Undead with the appearance of a Dried Corpse, but a female voice, withdrew her kicking foot, slowly entered through the door, and said icily, "You even dare complain about us mocking you. Did you ever think that not a single thing you’ve done hasn’t given people a chance to mock you? Just like now, knowing full well that there are so many people following you, yet you rush to be the first one through the door and then stand right in the doorway. Who else should people curse at if not you?"

The female Dried Corpse was slim and tall, and it was hard to discern her race just by her figure, but a closer look at her head revealed a pair of pointed ears. Apart from goblins, in the Yarran World, only Elves had such pointed ears—though goblin ears grew out to the side, while Elf ears grew upwards. The female Elf’s appearance stunned Vivian, Freya, and Pannis, as none of them sensed any magical fluctuations related to a Necromancer on her, meaning despite sharing a similar appearance with a Necromancer, she might belong to another unique race.

"Rattle rattle rattle," following behind the female Elf, several Skeletons came in, either wielding swords or holding magic staffs, clearly either Death Knights or Skeleton Mages. Beyond them, a few more Necromancers entered, maintaining the typical silent demeanor of Mages. Alongside them were five or six Ghosts who didn’t seem accustomed to using doors and simply floated through the walls, mocking Mil with their laughter as they drifted back and forth in the air.

"Is this already a fixed style for goblin mages?" Pannis’s mouth twitched as he sighed at the sight of the goblin necromancer and muttered softly, "I used to think Christo was just an exception, but it seems that’s not the case."

"My teacher is not like that; he’s very steady," Freya retorted, glaring at Pannis before speaking in a low voice, "How can you compare him with the teacher?"

"Uh, that’s because you haven’t seen him when he was young," Pannis replied with a bitter smile, shaking his head, "Never mind, you probably wouldn’t believe it anyway, so better not to say anything. But compared to this necromancer, Christo can indeed be considered steady, yes, in comparison."

"What kind of elf is that?" Vivian, as if she hadn’t heard the argument between the two, asked quietly, "Definitely not a necromancer, seems like a race I have never seen before."

"That’s a good question," Pannis said, thumbing up, "Once I find the answer, I’ll tell you first."

"Clap clap clap." Several beings were secretly commenting on the dozen or so undead that had just entered when Shiela suddenly clapped her hands a few times. The collision of her half-solid, half-ethereal palms emitted a dull sound. Now that she had everyone’s attention, Shiela floated upward, raising her voice, "Why have you all come? Is this not too many people?"

"It’s the first time our living guests are paying us a visit; it’s only proper to make it grand. What’s there to fear with more people? It’s not like you’re paying," A group of leaders snatched another table from the other undead and pulled it beside the previous long one, settling down. Hearing Shiela’s question, the female elf snorted coldly, gestured to the busy tavern owner, and with a flick of her finger, a round stone chip infused with a thick Energy of Death shot into the air, finding its way precisely into the skeleton owner’s hand: "The bill for all of us is on me." freēwēbnovel.com

"Exactly, they’ve already created their own currency. I said that’s how it should be," Catherine and Freya exchanged a glance, both nodding, "This must be their currency."

"Yah!" A hoarse screech interrupted the discussion between the two ladies, startling all the people and undead; turning their heads, they saw that the screech came from the goblin necromancer Mil, who was gaping with his mouth wide open, pointing at Ava and unable to utter a single word.