Chapter 556 Vivian's Most Useful Episode
"Pigeon~ pigeon~~!"
In the forest not far from the front line, a sweet and melodious shout flew across the trees, turning into a purple whirlwind that crashed into the Demon King's chest.
Vivian wrapped her arms tightly around the Demon King's waist, her soft purple hair brushing against his chest, her ruby-like eyes sparkling with extra affection, as if she wanted to make up for all the time they hadn't seen each other in the past few days.
Meanwhile, not far behind Vivian, a special forces unit of five hundred men stood quietly in an open space.
They were dressed in long, snow-white robes with hoods hanging low, obscuring most of their faces.
On their chests and backs were two blood-red, intersecting swords, their crimson gleaming with a chilling aura of slaughter.
That appears to be their badge.
Eileen, who was standing next to Luo Yan, looked at the girl who had suddenly appeared in front of her in surprise and released her hand that had been unconsciously on the hilt of the sword.
"Vivian? What brings you here?"
Luo Yan skillfully reached out, picked up Vivian, and placed her aside to stand still. Then, he calmly revealed the answer.
"The Knights Hospitaller of St. Collins are one of her armies..."
Then, he looked at Archduke Edward, who had come to the scene after hearing the news, and a helpless apology appeared on his face.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, Vivian didn’t tell me about this beforehand. I think she probably saw the news in the newspaper in Thunder City, and out of concern for the people of the Holy Light, she rushed over with her people.”
"Haha, it's nothing, it's nothing! I'm more than happy to help Miss Vivian, how could I mind?"
Archduke Edward laughed heartily.
His gaze, however, fell upon the disciplined white-robed troops not far away, and his hearty smile carried a hint of understanding and awe.
"I never expected that Miss Vivian Colin would have such a well-trained knightly order under her command. This is truly beyond my expectations."
No wonder.
Edward pondered to himself.
He had previously wondered why this "illegitimate daughter" of the Colin family held such a transcendent position in the family despite not having a formal title. It turned out that this young lady also controlled a... or even more than one private army.
As the master of the duchy, Edward Campbell was not naive enough to think that these five hundred men would only know how to bandage wounds.
Training a qualified healer is more expensive than training ten soldiers. Being able to assemble a professional medical team of five hundred people often means that the number of combat personnel behind them is more than one zero!
It seems that the Colin family, so far away on the continent of Gana, is far more powerful than I imagined...
Edward, lost in thought, was unaware that these five hundred men truly represented the entirety of the "Hospital Knights of St. Colin's" current assets.
Even the organization of the "Knights" was specially approved by the Minister of War of Hell just an hour ago.
As for these members dressed in white robes, they are not pure-blooded humans at all; most of them are mixed-blood demons living in the Principality of Corin in Hell.
In the hierarchical vampire society, they usually serve as blood collectors or blood bank managers, and are all experts in "manipulating" blood.
In human society illuminated by holy light, although they are not accepted by mainstream society, like Sarah, they are not publicly condemned like demons.
Thanks to Prince Colin's influence on the aesthetic tastes of the citizens of Thunder City, and the increased tolerance brought about by economic development, the discrimination against demons in the Duchy of Campbell is not as severe as it was during Aaron Campbell's time. Some workshops have even begun to recruit half-demon employees.
So it's not too strange that a group of demons claiming to be holy light appeared here, since this isn't the upper reaches of the Benliu River after all.
"How did it go, brother? Did Vivian help this time?"
Vivian put her hands on her hips, raised her chin slightly, and looked at the Demon King triumphantly, her face practically screaming "Praise me!"
Looking into those sparkling red eyes, Luo Yan smiled and nodded.
"Yes, you've been a great help."
This isn't just a polite remark.
It's better to leave the delicate work of saving lives to these professional "blood mages".
Although there are many players in the Great Necropolis with real-world nursing experience, the experience from the two worlds is not necessarily fully compatible, so it's better to leave professional tasks to professionals.
The Principality of Colin is an expert in dealing with blood and wound-related issues.
Given the progress made by Thunder City University in natural sciences such as optics and chemistry, the arrival of these experts may well drive progress in medicine, anatomy, and biology in the Principality of Campbell.
Vivian's lips curled into a wide smile after receiving the praise, revealing two adorable little tiger teeth, and she patted her chest with her hand.
"Those humans... I mean, the survivors, just leave them to us! Whether they're missing limbs or have been bitten by rats, as long as they're still breathing, I, the commander, can bring them back!"
"Then I'll leave it to you, Miss Vivian!"
Archduke Edward was overjoyed, then quickly glanced at a logistics officer beside him and gave him a wink.
The officer understood immediately and quickly stepped forward, giving Vivian a respectful knightly salute.
"Your Excellency Vivian, please allow me to thank you on behalf of the Holy Light's citizens who survived the rats' attack! All the wounded are currently concentrated in the northern suburbs of Raven City. Their situation is extremely urgent. Not only the wounded, but also some pregnant women who are about to give birth... Please allow me to guide you."
Vivian didn't say anything, but simply snapped her fingers behind her.
From the Hospitallers' ranks, a tall, pale-faced young knight stepped forward, walked up to the officer, and nodded slightly.
"Then I'll have to trouble you."
That aloof voice carried an air of detachment that kept people at arm's length.
However, when spoken by a medic, this aloof voice did not leave any impression of arrogance; on the contrary, it was so professional that it put people at ease.
The officer dared not delay and immediately gestured for them to proceed.
"This way, please!"
Five hundred knights, clad in white robes like white ghosts, escorted a wagon carrying medicine supplies to the northern outskirts of Raven City for charity work.
As Edward watched this special order of knights depart, his eyes were filled with undisguised admiration.
"Swift as the wind, obeying orders without question... Your Highness Colin, you have an amazing sister, truly enviable."
Upon hearing this, Eileen raised an eyebrow and teased her brother.
"Oh? It seems His Majesty is quite dissatisfied with my abilities. I need to work harder."
Edward chuckled and said.
"Haha, that's not what I meant!"
The harmonious atmosphere between the brother and sister is enviable.
This was especially enviable to the Demon King.
Vivian, standing to the side, glanced at Eileen smugly, her chest puffing out unconsciously.
Then she looked at her brother with an expression that said, "See? Everyone thinks I'm better." She was inexplicably inflated by the fact that she had "won over her own family."
However, the Demon King had to admit that Vivian had indeed improved a lot under his tutelage, at least much better than when she was at the Demon Academy.
He reached out and gently patted her head with a smile.
"Great job! I hope you keep up the good work."
Vivian's face flushed an unnatural red, and she let out a soft chuckle.
If only I could use a little more force.
Sarah's face showed envy. If only Eileen had arrived a second or two later in the woods...
...
Far from the war-torn Burial Peak, on a hidden beast trail on the southern slope of the Ten Thousand Ren Mountains, the Shrek warlord was panting as he traversed the dense forest.
This once arrogant rat-man leader now looked as pathetic as a drowning wild dog.
His magnificent armor was long gone, leaving him with only a leather suit he had stolen from somewhere.
Although the "Great Shrek Warlord" undoubtedly suffered a defeat, he was not ashamed of it; on the contrary, he was complacent about his extraordinary wisdom.
Thank goodness he ran fast!
With that deafening roar from Burial Peak, if he had been a day late, he would probably have become a human contraption hanging on the flagpole as a corpse!
"Those idiots... die, all of you die!"
Shrek struggled to clear away the thorns blocking his path, then glanced back at the distant mountain peak belching black smoke, letting out two smug screechs.
"As long as Shrek the Great is alive, as long as Shrek's gold is still around, where can't we raise an army and come back? I will repay you for this humiliation sooner or later!"
He has already made up his mind.
Once he reaches the dimensional desert, he will reunite with his scattered and fleeing mother rats, use the gold he brought from the palace to build an ogre mercenary army, and after the fall of Brass Pass, he will take back the lost mountains!
However, just as he was envisioning a bright future, a sense of danger approached him, causing him to instinctively stop in his tracks and look around warily.
At the same moment he stopped, a dozen shadowy figures appeared in the dense forest not far away.
They were dressed in uniform dark gray robes, with hoods pulled low, covering most of their faces except for a section of their pale chins, like ghosts born from the forest.
Feeling the biting cold rush towards him, Shrek's heart clenched. He instinctively tried to back away, only to find that his escape route was blocked.
"Who...who's there?!"
Shrek drew his short sword from his waist with a show of bravado, his large belly trembling violently as he struggled to suppress the fear on his face.
"Who exactly are you people? What do you want? Why are you blocking the path of the great Shrek warlord?"
No one answered him.
A man in black robes standing in the middle of the formation slowly raised his head.
Even from more than ten meters away, Shrek could feel the two gazes shooting out from under the hood, cold and full of contempt.
That's the look you give someone who looks at trash.
Immediately afterwards, a terrifying pressure descended like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami crashing down on Shrek's head.
Thump—
The renowned Shrek warlord couldn't even last a second. His knees buckled, and he knelt on the ground, trembling with his tail between his legs.
He was all too familiar with that power!
That was a powerful human standing next to "Soul Shatterer" Mok, and he was even stronger than that mage who always had a sour face.
He is a diamond-level powerhouse!
"The great Shrek warlord?" The leader of the black-robed men scoffed. "You rat certainly know how to flatter yourself."
"Merlin, Lord Merlin!" Shrek's rat head was pressed tightly to the ground, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably, and he didn't even have the courage to run away.
He is a subordinate of the Kingdom of Laine's secret intelligence organization, "The Gravekeepers," and a trusted confidant of Lord Marius.
"Radiant Knight" Hagmer's sword might not be able to reach him, but this lord could kill him in just one second...
Merlin looked at him coldly.
"Do you have anything else to say?"
"I, I..."
Shrek's small eyes darted around in their sockets as he scrambled forward a few steps, his face a mixture of fear and fawning flattery.
"I wouldn't dare, sir. I had no choice but to flee. Those damned humans—no, those damned Campbell barbarians—are just too good at fighting! And they have absolutely no martial ethics; they just attacked without warning. I had to make a strategic retreat to preserve my strength... Once I get reinforcements from the dimensional desert, I'll be back!"
Merlin looked down at the disgusting thing that was reaching its filthy claws toward his boot, his eyes practically overflowing with revulsion.
He really wanted to stomp on the rat's head, but remembering that he still had a use for the guy, he held back.
"Conserve strength?"
Merlin sneered, flicked his index finger, and a beam of magical light sent Shrek flying, rolling several times on the ground before coming to a stop.
Shrek didn't dare utter a single word. He hurriedly scrambled to his feet, knelt on the ground, trembling, and was overjoyed that the Rat Head hadn't been separated from the family.
"...Hundreds of thousands of troops were defeated in less than a day. You didn't accomplish a single task I asked you to do, and you even let those Campbells rescue the medicinal herbs from the cave. How can you still have the face to live?"
"It was an accident! It was an accident, sir!" Shrek cried, groaning and kowtowing. "Who would have thought they would suddenly attack the dwarves, and pull out so many things we'd never seen before, including those cave spiders—"
"Shut up."
Merlin interrupted his explanation.
“I have no interest in hearing your complaints about failure. You only have one chance to make amends for your mistakes, or… to become a corpse here.”
Shrek screamed in response.
"I'll do it! I'm willing to do it! As long as you don't kill me, I'll do anything you ask!"
"very good."
Merlin took a metal can from his pocket, flicked his index finger forward, and sent the can flying to Shrek's face.
The surface of the jar was covered with complex alchemical runes.
Shrek swallowed hard.
Even through the thick metal walls, he could faintly hear the sound of liquid sloshing inside, as if it were some kind of living curse.
"Black Death".
Merlin's voice was soft, but it sounded like a devil's whisper to Shrek's ears.
"It's a byproduct of 'holy water,' the filtered-out waste, or rather, the memories, spiritual essence, and resentment of tens of thousands of Ryan people... Call it whatever you want, it doesn't matter, it's all the same thing."
Shrek trembled, his face filled with fear. He never imagined that humans could be so evil. No wonder the Carrion Clan was no match for them...
"You, you want to..."
"The best way to stop them isn't to thwart their offensive on the front lines, but to set fire to their backyard. Aren't you the best at digging tunnels? Have your men smuggle this stuff into Raven City and dump it into their water sources."
Merlin wore a sinister smile, like a true demon in human skin.
“How can we enjoy such a wonderful thing as ‘holy water’ alone? The suffering that the Ryan people have endured should be experienced by the Campbell people as well.”
Jackdaws is a border city with a population of 100,000. If even one-tenth of its population gets involved, Edward will have to immediately halt his offensive and turn back to deal with the plague.
Shrek shuddered.
He had witnessed the toxicity of spiritual matter; just a single drop could drive hundreds of mice into madness, and it was almost incurable.
After all, it was a "curse" created by burning all of one's spirit, an existence close to the source of extraordinary power, and strictly speaking, it was the same thing as the realm of demigods!
The combined power of collective will can produce incredible miracles, and of course, it can also create hell that no one could have imagined.
This is practically turning the entire Spinor County into a wasteland!
"What? You're too scared?"
Merlin narrowed his eyes, his gaze filled with murderous intent as he looked at the timid rat.
"I dare! I dare!" Shrek quickly hugged the jar to his chest, as if he were hugging his own father. "When...when do you need me to make my move?"
"Now."
Merlin suppressed the murderous intent in his eyes and resumed his indifferent expression.
Looking at the filthy rat on the ground, he made the devil's promise in a slow, deliberate voice.
“Once it’s done, I will support you in replacing Mok and becoming the new leader of the Carrion Clan. You will also possess the extraordinary power he has.”
"But if you mess it up..."
Merlin didn't finish speaking. He only glanced coldly at Shrek, who was breathing heavily, before turning into a cloud of black mist and disappearing into the dense forest along with the Gravekeepers who were leaving the scene one after another.
"You should pray that you die of the plague; at least that would be much more comfortable than falling into my hands."
Clutching the cold jar, Shrek knelt in the empty forest, his entire body trembling with fat.
Those tiny, bean-sized eyes held both fear and madness, but ultimately transformed into a burning ferocity.
"Crow City..."
It's all the fault of those damned human bastards!
"Since you won't let me live, then none of us should live!"
...
In the northern suburbs of Crow City, the sweltering cicada chirping made one wish to die immediately.
The pain from the wound on his leg had made him numb. Hart struggled to open his eyelids, only to find that he hadn't turned into a ghost. He then closed his eyes again, barely clinging to life.
At the age of sixteen, he should have been doing something meaningful, but he ended up in the rat people's cave in a daze, and now he's ended up on the Campbell people's stretcher.
The citizens of Roland City might find a thousand reasons why he deserved his downfall, but he didn't want to argue. He only wanted to greet His Majesty's mother.
Perhaps his curse was too blasphemous, so much so that it lost Saint Sis's sympathy. The expressionless priest walked over, glanced at him, and left.
"It's hopeless."
He only vaguely heard this one sentence.
Yeah, what a worthless life.
Hart wasn't surprised. He was already satisfied to be able to escape the ratmen's cave, and if he really couldn't survive, there was nothing he could do about it.
I've heard that if you die at the hands of the ratmen, not only will your body be crushed into mincemeat, but the remaining bits of flesh will also be combined with the nobles of Ryan.
That terrified him more than his soul naturally dissipating into the world.
He'd rather not have a next life than be bound to those ugly things for eternity.
The surrounding area was filled with groans, like the whispers of an endless nightmare, until a group of knights in white robes entered the camp.
There were no prayers, nor any sighs of compassion. Hart could only vaguely hear the soft rustling of leather and the clanging of metal instruments.
"Removal of the necrotic portion..."
"Prepare the blood vial."
What number?
"Try number 4."
Hart caught a glimpse of a sharp, cold glint in his peripheral vision. He struggled to escape, but a hand pinned him down.
"Don't move."
The man warned him, his grip incredibly strong, not like a doctor at all, but more like a pair of pliers from a blacksmith's shop... In Hart's mind, that was the strongest thing he could imagine.
The silver knife cut through the rotting flesh on his leg, which had been gnawed open by rats.
Just as the pain was about to climb up his spine to his head, a cold glass reagent bottle was skillfully shoved into his mouth.
"Drink it."
The red liquid poured down my throat, its incredible sweetness like a glass of freshly squeezed... uh, tomato juice?
The bewildered Hart had no time to think and subconsciously drank the potion that was poured into his mouth, after which his consciousness became hazy.
Unlike the potions concocted by monks, the potions concocted by these cold-faced knights were like a shot of strong liquor, burning like fire as they entered the stomach, quickly extinguishing all pain.
Hart broke out in a cold sweat.
When the large hand that had been holding him released its grip, he instinctively sprang up from the stretcher, then suddenly realized that he felt as if he had been pulled out of a boiling pot, his whole body covered in sticky sweat.
What surprised him even more was that the unstoppable high fever had actually subsided!
The knight who was cutting the rotten flesh off his body did not stop. Instead, while the effects of the medicine were still wearing off, he placed his index finger on the wound and whispered a spell.
"..."
A dense, itchy sensation emanated from the wound, and the oozing blood congealed at an incredible speed, weaving together to form the shape of sutures and tightening the wound.
Having finished everything, the knight stood up and looked at his squire beside him.
"Next."
Soon, they left Hart's side and went to the next tent.
Hart stared blankly at their retreating figures until two soldiers from the Ryan Battalion came in carrying buckets of wheat porridge to the survivors in the tent.
Seeing Hart sit up, the leading soldier raised an eyebrow.
"You're awake?"
Hatt nodded, but his gaze remained fixed on the tent entrance. After a while, he asked a question in a low voice.
"who are they?"
A bowl of wheat porridge had already been placed in his hands.
Only then did he feel the hunger in his stomach. He subconsciously swallowed and then wolfed down his food.
The soldier grinned as he watched the young man wolf down his food.
"You mean those people outside? They look like Colin's men."
"...Colin?"
"The Knights Hospitaller of St. Colin, from the Empire's colonies on the continent of Gana. It is said that when they heard of our plight, they immediately and without hesitation took the teleportation array to come here... By Saint Sith, what a kind and benevolent bunch!"
Just then, a soldier curiously poked Hart's arm.
"Hey kid, how did they heal you just now?"
Hart glanced blankly at the group of fellow villagers, pondered for a moment, and then spoke.
"I'm not quite sure either... I don't seem to be any different from those priests."
Actually, that's not what he really thought. Those people clearly didn't use Holy Light; they used some other tricks instead.
The life magic of elves?
Dwarven healing runes?
Who knows?
Thinking of the old man who had told him "hopeless," he suddenly felt that such things weren't so important after all.
Even if it's the devil's witchcraft...
He felt that at least selling his soul to these gentlemen wasn't too bad.
...
On the other side of the camp, Vivian, wearing little leather boots, walked along the muddy path. Her black and white nun's habit was spotless, swaying with her light steps.
Although Miss Colin did not intentionally seek attention, her arrival still caused a sensation throughout the camp.
"Lady Vivian!"
"Lady Vivian has arrived!"
The previously lifeless refugees seemed to have seen a true god.
It's unclear who shouted it first, but soon the entire camp was filled with shouts of gratitude and fervor.
"No need for formalities, everyone."
Vivian stopped, a holy and compassionate smile on her face.
It's a pity that Padridge's idiot isn't here, otherwise he would definitely be so disgusted by that fake smile that he would vomit on the spot.
As for those blood servants from the Principality of Corin...
Of course, I didn't see it, and even if I did, I would pretend I didn't.
After all, for them, Miss Vivian's feelings were clearly more important than those of Lord Bayeri, who was nowhere to be found.
"Rest assured and recover. God... will protect you."
She drew a vague diagonal cross on her chest, while the little devil in her heart was rolling around wildly, letting out a wicked "kukuku" laugh.
Give them more praise.
Haven't you all eaten enough? Speak louder!
This feeling of being surrounded and looked up to by ordinary people like ants is even more intoxicating than drinking super A-grade Minotaur blood!
A subtle hint of ecstasy played on Vivian's lips as she immersed herself in the worship of the believers, waving and smiling intermittently.
In hell, she was an invincible little tyrant in Shanghai, and the people's submission to her was more out of fear of her fists.
However, things are different here—
People respect her from the bottom of their hearts and regard her as a deity!
She had no doubt that even if she asked these subjects to immediately offer their blood, they would not hesitate to cut their hands.
Kukuku...
Humans are so interesting!
Just as Vivian was secretly amused and trying to calm everyone down, a woman of about thirty years old squeezed through the crowd and, with tears in her eyes, grabbed Vivian's slender, pale hand.
"Thank you... thank you so much, Lady Vivian! Without your medicine, my child and I would probably have met with certain death..."
The mother's belly was swollen, and her face, covered in dust, had two tear streaks, but she looked much more energetic than when she was first rescued.
Vivian didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she gently held the dirty hand and patted the back of it lightly.
“You are all children of the gods… Anything is worthwhile as long as it can help you.”
Full marks!
Looking into those tear-filled eyes, Vivian gave herself a perfect score of 120 for this heartwarming statement!
Looking at the kind and maternal Miss Vivian, the young men who had never seen this side of her blushed like ripe apples, wishing they could immediately join the Knights Hospitaller of St. Colin and pledge their loyalty to this kind princess!
It must be said that most of the Ryan people are still very simple and honest, otherwise they wouldn't have been tricked by the nobles into going to the rat people's territory to be used as medicinal herbs.
They will be good to those who are good to them; this simple and unpretentious kindness is a priceless treasure.
Vivian smiled smugly as she handed the grateful mother over to the knights, instructing these blood servants from the Duchy of Corin to take good care of the poor woman and to report to Lady Vivian immediately if anything was needed.
She did learn some of the essence of her older brother's teachings, and although her imitation was still clumsy, it was still passable.
Moreover, this sense of accomplishment made Vivian feel incredibly happy... This was much more fun than bullying those second-generation demons who were weaker than her!
She was determined to make the St. Colin Hospitallers bigger and stronger, and dominate the entire vortex coast—no, the entire continent of Os!
Only a vixen like Padridge would be content with a small piece of cake; Vivian is all about having the biggest piece!
She wanted to make her older brother, who always looked at her like she was an idiot, look at her with surprise!
Vivian smiled and waved to everyone around her, basking in the glory she had earned through the prince's doting affection and unlimited allowance.
Just then, a white figure silently approached.
That was the Knight Commander of the Knights, a vampire girl with short silver hair who was usually taciturn. She bowed slightly, leaned close to Vivian's ear, and reported in a low voice.
"Lady Vivian."
"Speak," Vivian said lazily, her holy smile unchanged.
"The patrolling sentries smelled rats. They're lying in wait in the forest north of Raven City, and there are quite a few of them. Judging from their deployment, I suspect they plan to wait until nightfall to make their move."
The ordinary knights in the knightly order are undoubtedly blood servants, but the twenty knight commanders who arrived with the main force are all pure vampires.
The vampires sent by Caesar Colin to "coax the children" are certainly not ordinary people. After all, they not only have to deal with the Holy See, but also serve as the backbone of the "Colin faction" to deal with the suppression of the "Padridge faction".
At least, that's how it appears in the eyes of a certain frivolous prince.
For example, this Ms. Chenette comes from the prestigious Chibol family of the Principality of Colin. She is a gold-level swordswoman who has been tested by blood and fire on the front lines.
A swordsman of this caliber might be a bit underutilized as a knight commander, but considering that the knight commander is the next king of the vampire world, a gold-level swordsman would certainly be a better match.
Upon hearing her subordinate's report, Vivian's eyes narrowed instantly, a bloodthirsty excitement flashing in her crimson pupils.
"Rat-people? Interesting."
The medals of the Knights Hospitaller of St. Collins need a little blood to adorn them.
The rats from the Wanren Mountains may be a bit filthy, but we'll make do with their blood for now...
(End of this chapter)
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