Chapter 347 Hospitality
Sherlock felt dizzy.
The nearest rat nest is in Altdorf, and they can only come from Altdorf.
A small swarm of rats would not be able to eat up a transportation hub quietly. Only a large swarm of rats that could even defeat the Imperial Army was qualified to achieve such an effect.
Did they go to Uberik, south of the trade route? Or did they rush to Nuln along Grunberg? Or did they set their sights on Stirling or Talabek? If they went north, Sherlock should have run into them on the way.
But no.
Will Sherlock continue to go south? Is the south still safe? The rats that can only eat the living creatures in the village without affecting others must have high-level ratmen and a screaming death knell that can drive them.
What does a screaming death knell mean? The lives of millions of slave rats cannot be exchanged for a screaming death knell. Perhaps all the human settlements along the southern tributaries of the Reik River have become deserted.
A Grey Seer? Or a great warlord declaring war on an Imperial territory?
Their numbers have reached a threshold, and they are ready to use war to reduce their numbers? That's a big problem.
Sherlock would rather face the devil than face an endless tide of rats.
The melodious bell sounds echoed underground. Pairs of blood-red eyes that were once extremely timid became lost in the bell sounds and rushed towards the southeast at the call of the Rat God.
Ikit Claw tried hard not to look at the Gray Prophet on the Screaming Deathstroke, for it was afraid that it would not be able to resist using the dimensional bomb to kill this bastard that suddenly rode on its head.
The last time we saw it was in Lustria, when this white-haired flea despised by the big horned rats was still a small clan leader.
Who knows what treasures it has found in Lustria, what cheap bargains it has made with Clan Eshin? Now, the Grey Seer of Boreoor can boss the great Ikit around.
The parliament should have a new spokesperson, even that idiot Tsanquiro is more pleasing to the eye.
Ikit glanced at the engineering warlock beside him with resentment, and when he noticed that a giant wheel of destruction was driven near him, he decisively moved a distance closer to the Doomsday Bell.
It was the one who developed that thing, and it knew better than anyone how unreliable the Wheel of Destruction was.
It would be best if it could blow to death some of the engineers it dislikes.
The Horned Rat did not respond to its prayers, and the huge green wheel slid smoothly forward. Ikit waited for a long time but did not hear the explosion.
Maybe it should invent a new, more reliable thing, preferably one that could blow up the entire underground world and let all the ratmen know that Ikit is greater than Senator Mosquita.
The magic ball of destruction still needs to be improved. It can only flatten a city made of human things, and its energy is not sufficient.
Where can I find a more abundant source of energy? Lynch activated the scepter again, cleared another wave of undead, and successfully reached the so-called Handorf Village.
This is a small village located on the border of northern Sylvania, and its name is not even recorded anywhere.
The human captive he captured along the way stammered and betrayed everything about the local ruler, except for telling how many wives the vampire named Crouch von Carstein had.
This is a vampire who is said to have lived for hundreds of years. He can barely be considered ancient among vampires. At least he has seen the ancestor and has not died at the hands of endless witch hunters.
Humans called it the "Black Viscount," and the castle it occupied was recorded in the annals of Sylvania six hundred years ago.
It should know where what Lynch wants is. Lynch is only worried about accidentally killing this dead thing despised by the ancient saints.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the famous Black Viscount seemed to have received orders and gave up defending the Handorf Fortress. Just as Lynch realized its exact location, it decisively fled to the south.
What followed was a boring race, but the outcome was decided when Lynch kicked up the cool breeze and used his body to tear through the air with a bursting sound as he passed through the earth at high speed.
A long sword hit Lynch halfway, but was shattered by Lynch at an even faster speed.
The broadsword formed by the gathering of shadows shattered into a torrent of magic. The being holding the sword did not entangle with Lynch, but fled decisively with just one strike and disappeared in the west.
It's really disgusting. From time to time, it uses various despicable ways to show its presence to Lynch.
What's even more disgusting is that only by taking away the ring can there be a chance to kill it completely.
Lynch didn't hesitate at all and continued to run towards his target in the south. After a few breaths, he easily grasped the vampire's body with his left claw.
Viscount Crouch hit Lynch's scales with his sword in vain, successfully creating several bloody marks on Lynch's body.
The blood didn't have time to flow out, or even to dissipate into magic particles, before it was completely covered by the healed scales.
It was such a hospitable master that after realizing that physical damage had no effect on Lynch, it even chanted a spell while struggling frantically.
That might be the famous "Curse of Ages", which could even cause elves to age and die in an instant.
Lynch only felt that he had become a little stronger. The insignificant improvement in his physical condition made him completely lose interest in continuing to listen to the vampire's spells. He would have to age for tens of thousands of years before his scales could become thicker.
Lifespan is as cheap as gold to cold-blooded species.
The vampire's terrifying brute force was in vain as Lynch slowly and forcefully closed his claws. Its strength was about the same as that of a newborn lizard man, and Lynch now even had the confidence to hold down the head of a giant dragon and crush it to pieces.
The continuous creaking and breaking sounds were the result of the vampire's resistance. Lynch almost broke it in two, but he finally left enough space for him to hold it tightly.
The undead scratched Lynch frantically and even bit his arm like a wild beast, while tearing off its disguise, trying to reveal its true form.
Lynch had to make it change to a more obedient posture - a head.
What a bad negotiation. Lynch now wants to capture Tigris to capture the vampire soul, but it is better for the archmage to stay near the Temple of Daha.
Lynch tore off the vampire's newly grown flesh over and over again until it had consumed all the energy in its soul and could no longer heal itself.
The desire for blood even overwhelmed its fear, and Lynch had to put it on the ground and let it lick enough blood to maintain its sanity.
Friendship always pays off. Lynch obtained the storage location of an ancient holy stone tablet, and the vampire hoped to exchange its freedom for more information.
Lynch satisfied it, giving it to Mor instead of Sotek.
The human god of the dead will allow it to return to spiritual freedom after death.
Of course, doing so also deprived Lynch of any clues about the other stone slabs, but he could look for a few more hospitable hosts. Sylvania is only this big, and it would be much easier than searching for stone slabs all over the world.
It would be nice if there was a magic toad paying attention here.
(End of this chapter)
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