The gentle moonlight peeked into the hut, and silence permeated in deep sleep.

The faint whispers flowed over the branches with the moonlight, turning into continuous snoring sounds. Broken thin clouds float among the sparse starlight, casting shadows over the campsite in front of the gold mine. The chilling shadow quietly permeated between the campsites, and the snoring around gradually faded away.

Crunch and creak——

The old bed board made a sound as it turned over, and the resentful fluorescence flickered under the dark bed.

The illusory silhouette resembling a veil rises from under the bed, lingering around the two sleeping figures. And when the cold undead was about to touch the creatures it hated and envied, moonlight streamed into the hut through the cracks, illuminating the shoes hanging by the bed and the papyrus stuck to the soles of the shoes.

The corners of the illusory outline lifted up the papyrus, revealing a few blurry words under the moonlight:

【 To... the cutest undead... Welcome... Hope... come again 】

A veil like shadow lingered slightly around the sleeping silhouette, rolling a piece of paper out of the hut.

The papyrus paper was blocked by the wooden door, drifting slowly, and then grabbed by the illusory veil that had crawled back, pulling it out from the crack of the door.

Trapped in the tranquil campsite, three veil outlines emerged, resembling pale dance skirts under the moonlight, fluttering, spinning, gathering, and diving into the unknown depths of the gold mine.

Thick darkness pervades, eerie shadows and rustling sounds resound, evil and terrifying conspiracies echo, occasionally turning into treacherous smirks.

At a certain moment, a silhouette lifted up a papyrus and was snatched, torn apart, and questioned by a companion.

After a long time, darkness and silence returned here.

……

Sunshine is the best medicine to cure those who are sleeping.

Annan was first awakened by the noise from outside the hut, followed by the banging of the wooden door.

Wearing a burlap coat, Annan moved the latch and opened the door.

Suddenly, a clear and chaotic commotion came, and Old Zoran's tense old face relaxed when he saw Annan. Then, after Annan woke up Martin, he told them what had happened last night.

All the miners living in the camp claimed to have had terrible nightmares, and the apprentice mage said they had been cursed by the undead, but everything was fine now.

The miners don't believe it. A mage apprentice who doesn't know magic and doesn't have magical items obviously can't suppress the chaos. Now outside, there are chaotic packages fleeing the camp, demanding wages, and shouting for food.

Why are you okay

Annan was not surprised, Martin was sleepy eyed, and they seemed unaffected.

Realizing something, Annan looked at the door panel, and the paper stuck on it was gone,

It seems that my message was effective. Annan thought excitedly.

This not only represents their escape from danger, but also signifies Annan's achievement of communicating with people outside of humanity for the first time.

Equally uplifting was Old Zolon, who believed it was the blessing of the goddess of luck - all miners were cursed by the undead, only they were safe.

Annan grabbed Martin who was about to agree. Although ghosts can communicate, it seems not worth taking the risk for 30 copper coins

Each person has 40 copper coins, and if you find the ore, you can also split the payment

I agreed, "Annan said, afraid that Old Zoran would change his mind.

Old Zolon, who was limping like a windmill, hurriedly went to prepare breakfast.

Annan, you're really amazing! "Praised Martin hesitantly." Can we tell our family that we only got 30 copper coins

Annan thought of Martin's salary being handed over to Aunt Susan, of him receiving almost no tips at the tavern, and of firewood always being sold at the lowest price, so he agreed to him.

While waiting for Old Zoran to bring food, Annan scanned through the noisy campsite and found the half bull headed man sitting at the edge of the forest holding a thin wooden board.

The shattered sunlight of early morning passed through the shade of trees, and the half bull headed man leaned against the tree, holding the small charcoal that was small to him, painting gradually clear contours on the thin wooden board.

The pale ghost has no specific shape, like a silhouette draped in a bedsheet.

Is this the undead who infiltrated the camp last night

Annan recognized what it was drawing. The half bull headed man lifted his head, his brown pupils reflecting his clean and clear face and eyes, despite wearing a dirty linen coat.