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Mark tied the bag again and put it back into the package, then picked up a dead branch and drew casually on the ground. He thought about Moloch's behavior over and over again, and always felt that something was wrong. How could a lost person carry so much dry food with him? Moreover, Moloch's leather armor looked brand new, and he didn't look like he was lost in the forest.

He stood up and walked to the direction where Moloch disappeared, walked a few steps along the path, and carefully observed the traces on the road. Moloch's footprints were clearly printed on the fallen leaves and soil on the road. Mark squatted down and touched the edge of the footprints with his hand. The soil was still fresh, indicating that Moloch had not been away for a long time. He stood up and looked around. The dense forest blocked the sky and the sun. The sunlight could only shine through the gaps between the branches and leaves, casting mottled spots of light, making the surrounding light dim and unclear. The mountain wind blew, and the leaves made a rustling sound. Apart from that, there was silence.

After confirming that Moloch did go east, he immediately turned around and ran to the west in the opposite direction of Moloch. After running for a distance, Mark climbed a tall tree and hid among the dense branches and leaves. From this position, he could clearly see the situation on the trail.

He held his breath and waited quietly. Time passed by minute by minute, and the woods were quiet, with only the occasional bird song breaking the silence. The sun shone through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled light and shadows on the ground, which kept changing with the swaying of the leaves, like jumping notes.

About half an hour later, Moloch's figure appeared on the trail again. He was walking back along the trail with a sharp dagger in his hand. Seeing Moloch coming back and holding a weapon, Mark was more convinced of his judgment.

He held his breath and hid among the leaves motionlessly, like a ghost, quietly waiting for Moloch to approach the depression on the mountain wall.

Moloch walked to the place where Mark had rested originally, looking around, as if looking for something. He bent down from time to time, pushed aside the hay and fallen leaves on the ground, and looked carefully. His brows were furrowed, and there was a trace of anxiety on his face.

Moloch, who did not find his target, kicked the hay on the ground angrily, and the hay flew everywhere, fluttering in the air like flying snowflakes. He turned and left again, and his figure quickly disappeared in the dense woods.

Mark waited until Moloch's figure disappeared in the woods again before coming down from the tree. He walked to the depression in the mountain wall, took out dry food and water bottles from the package, and prepared to leave this place of trouble.

He ate the hard dry food in big mouthfuls, and the cold mountain spring water flowed down his throat, making him feel refreshed. While eating the dry food, he vigilantly observed the surrounding situation.

"What exactly does Moloch want to do?" Mark whispered to himself, his brows furrowed, and his eyes were full of doubts. He didn't understand Moloch's purpose, but he knew that Moloch must not be as simple as getting lost. He had a strong premonition that he and Moloch would meet again.

After eating the dry food, Mark put the water bottle and the package back on his back and turned to leave the depression on the mountain wall. He walked along the path towards the west, and his figure gradually disappeared in the dense woods.

As the sun set, a fiery sunset glow burned on the horizon, dyeing the entire sky red. In the forest, the light gradually dimmed, and the shadows of the trees were stretched out, like a monster with bared fangs and claws. A few crows cried in the distance, shrill and long, adding a touch of weird atmosphere to this quiet forest.

He continued to move forward along the winding path, and the towering trees on both sides seemed to be silent guards, watching his every move. Under his feet was a rugged mountain road, and occasionally a few loose gravel would roll down, making a subtle sound, echoing in the silent forest.

After walking a few hundred meters, Mark found a new piece of soil that had been turned over by the side of the path. The color was completely different from the dark soil around it, and it looked abrupt and eye-catching. A corner of yellowed parchment appeared in the soil, with jagged edges, as if it had been buried in a hurry and searched by humans. Mark's heart moved, and he bent down to pick up the parchment. The paper was rough to the touch, with a faint smell of mold. He carefully unfolded the parchment and found some strange symbols drawn on it, with twisted lines, like some ancient totem, and like some mysterious text, which he did not recognize.

He frowned slightly, carefully examined these symbols, trying to deduce some information from them, but in the end he found nothing. He folded the parchment and stuffed it into his arms. This parchment may hide some secrets, and he decided to study it carefully after it was safe.

At this time, he heard a slight sound of footsteps behind him, the sound was very light, if Mark had not been vigilant at all times, it would probably be difficult to detect. He immediately turned back vigilantly, his eyes were like torches, and he scanned the woods behind him.

Moloch was standing not far away, holding a dagger with a cold glow in his hand, and the blade reflected a dazzling light in the afterglow of the setting sun. He stared at Mark fiercely, with a sneer on his face, and his beard trembled slightly with his breathing, making him look even more ferocious.

"It's you!" Mark whispered in a cold tone.

Moloch grinned and approached slowly. With every step he took, the dead branches and leaves under his feet made a "crackling" sound, which was particularly clear in the silent forest, like the footsteps of the god of death, knocking on Mark's heart one by one. The surrounding trees swayed in the breeze, making a "rustling" sound, like the whispers of ghosts, adding a touch of weird atmosphere to the forest.

Mark took a defensive posture, with his legs slightly apart, his center of gravity sank, and his eyes were fixed on Moloch's every move, ready to respond to his attack at any time.

Moloch suddenly accelerated, rushing towards Mark like an arrow from a bow, holding the dagger high in his hand and stabbing Mark's chest. The dagger cut through the air, making a sharp whistle. In the dim light, it was like a black lightning with a breath of death.

Mark dodged to the side and narrowly avoided Moloch's fatal blow. The tip of the dagger almost brushed his chest, and he could even feel the cold air emanating from the blade. He backhanded a thorn from under Moloch.

"Dang!" There was a crisp sound of metal collision, and sparks flew. The thorn pierced Moloch's sole and made a metallic sound. Moloch stepped on the thorn and broke it.

Mark was shocked. Moloch's body was so strong?

Moloch sneered, with a trace of contempt on his face, "A trick!" He kicked Mark's abdomen fiercely, with such speed and force that Mark had no time to react.

Mark groaned, and his body flew backwards like a kite with a broken string, falling heavily to the ground, spurting out a mouthful of blood, staining the fallen leaves on the ground red. He struggled to stand up, but felt weak all over, and his internal organs felt uncomfortable as if the river and the sea were turning upside down. Moloch slowly walked in front of Mark, looking down at him, his eyes full of teasing, "With just this little ability, you dare to fight me?" He squatted down, raised Mark's chin with a dagger, and said coldly, "Mark, you haven't improved at all, didn't I teach you this before?"

Mark looked incredulous, "Are you Toby?"

Moloch said, "No, I am Moloch, a clone of Lord Toby."