Chapter 478 City of the Swamp
The black smoke billowing from the chimneys finally painted the fiery red dusk, and Thunder City, which had been busy all day, finally welcomed its own night.
In the new industrial area on the outskirts, the last batch of craftsmen and laborers left the factory, whistling and arm in arm, and poured into the taverns on the street.
The maids, dressed in linen cotton skirts, moved swiftly through the bustling crowd. Their arms were as thick as iron clamps, as if they wanted to grab all the wine glasses in the kitchen with both hands. And the guests, who were urging for wine, were like people with fire in their throats, just waiting for a sip of wine to extinguish their raging fire.
The air was thick with the smell of sweat and coal dust, causing even the most fastidious priests to instinctively distance themselves from this blasphemous place.
However, those who complain are in the minority; most people enjoy the lively atmosphere and the vibrancy of everyday life.
Otherwise, people wouldn't willingly come here and stay until late at night day after day before leaving with little interest.
Since Archduke Edward ascended the throne, the city has become increasingly bustling, much like the chefs working in the kitchen.
The tavern was bustling with activity, everyone excitedly discussing the city's rapid development and its bright future.
The new textile factory in the East District has started hiring again, and the Andean Chamber of Commerce at the port has received a large order from Fog City. It is said that soon all the workers' wages will be raised again, but it is unknown when the city council will pass Princess Irene's "Sixth Bill".
Although unpleasant things happen from time to time, people are generally satisfied with their current lives. Even if some serfs occasionally reminisce about their old lives, looking at the foamy beer mugs, they don't miss it as much.
Let's wait and reminisce after we've spent all the money!
At least for now, everyone firmly believes—
Under the leadership of Grand Duke Edward and Princess Irene, an unprecedented golden age is slowly unfolding before them!
Just then, a city hall clerk wearing an armband pushed through the crowd and walked to the bulletin board not far from the pub door.
This guy was clearly the kind of person with OCD; he frowned from the moment he walked in, but still held his nose and did the work his boss assigned him.
He took a roll of cloth pulp paper from his bag, pinned it to the bulletin board with four thumbtacks, clapped his hands, and hurriedly left.
The paper, bearing the Campbell family's wax seal, appeared to be official documentation confirming the passage of the new bill and quickly attracted considerable attention.
People assumed there was more to Bill Six, so they all crowded around to see what was going on.
“Grand Duke Campbell… Edward… decrees…” A literate blacksmith laboriously read the beginning of the decree, “…It is hereby decided that the southwestern swamp of Thundershire shall be officially named… uh, Mudswamp City? What the heck?”
The blacksmith's voice stopped abruptly, and a look of utter disbelief crossed his face.
“What city in the southwestern swamp? Isn’t this just the southwesternmost city in Campbell?” An apprentice next to him craned his neck and asked, puzzled. “Was the guy who wrote the notice drunk?”
"Keep reading!" someone in the crowd urged, since not everyone could read, let alone understand the formal official document.
The blacksmith swallowed hard and continued reading.
"...and grant full development rights to the 'Wind Howling Tribe' represented by Mr. Sak Gale, the envoy from the United Kingdom of Gutaf."
The law is short, but it carries a lot of weight.
After a brief silence, the tavern erupted in chaos, with a drunken miner leading the charge.
"What?! Give that rotten land to a bunch of lizardmen? Wait... the Southwest Swamp? I... I'll think about it first—"
"Has the mayor gone mad?! That godforsaken place has nothing but poisonous insects and man-eating monsters!"
"Are you stupid! How could the mayor possibly make this kind of decision? That guy is just a mascot; it must have been the governor's idea!"
"I think you've all had too much to drink! Isn't the key issue that someone actually wanted that lousy place?"
Confusion spread rapidly among the crowd.
In the eyes of the residents of Thunder City, the Southwest Swamp was undoubtedly a cursed, rotten land, the kind that even the greedy Baron Guts despised.
The act of "bestowing" it upon Campbell's ally is truly baffling. And what's even more perplexing is why that distant ally accepted it?
However, that feeling of confusion didn't last long.
There were indeed some "clever" people in the crowd who quickly came up with a seemingly logical explanation.
“I don’t think this is simple,” a man who looked like a small merchant said mysteriously. “Have you forgotten who Mr. Sack is? He’s a guest of Prince Colin! I think this must be Prince Colin’s doing!”
This statement immediately garnered widespread approval.
If he were a prince of the empire, then everything would seem to make sense.
The loyal citizens of Thunder City praised the strange occurrence, preferring to attribute the strange event to some distant imperial prince rather than believe it was a decision made by their wise Archduke Edward.
However, the clever fellow was not wrong. Although this was a story between the Kingdom of Gutaf and the Duchy of Campbell, the shadow of the Demon King was not uncommon behind it.
only……
What does Prince Colin want that land for?
Simplifying complex problems doesn't actually resolve people's confusion; instead, it turns one confusion into many.
Just as people were discussing it, a wise person finally stepped forward.
"What do you know!" The speaker was a textile factory foreman. He looked at the group of short-sighted men with disdain and said in a gruff voice, "That place may be awful, but it's teeming with lizardmen!"
The drunk miner couldn't help but retort.
"What's the use of having so many people! Their claws aren't suitable for working!"
"That's because they don't have the right tools!" the foreman retorted. "What if that envoy from the Kingdom of Gutaf really has the ability to train them? That would be tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands, of laborers!"
Someone in the crowd immediately realized what was happening.
"That makes sense..."
Lizardmen can't do any work with human tools, but they can do it with their own tools, right?
However, it was precisely because they had thought of this that everyone quickly became tense again.
Hundreds of thousands of laborers...
Are these bastards going to try and steal their jobs?!
In fact, even before Princess Eileen set off on her campaign, the labor market in Thunder City had already shown signs of saturation, but the war and the issuance of war bonds masked many of the problems.
However, their concerns did not last long.
The foreman smugly snorted and quickly offered an even more enticing idea, dispelling any lingering concerns they might have had.
That wasn't actually his idea; he heard it from his boss.
Not everyone needs to wait for the city hall's announcement; for those who truly have power, they have far more channels to obtain information.
"...Besides, don't just focus on those lizardmen. How His Highness uses them is none of our business, but this decree clearly states that Mr. Sack wants to build a 'city' on the swamp! By Saint Sith, how many bricks, how much timber, how many people will that take!"
"Even if the Kingdom of Gutaf can train those worms who've been soaking in the mud, it's not something that can be done tomorrow. I can assure you, the sweetest cream on this cake will ultimately benefit us!"
These words were like a beacon of wisdom, instantly illuminating the minds of all the laborers and craftsmen in the tavern.
That makes sense!
Building a city means countless orders and jobs!
The atmosphere in the tavern instantly shifted from confusion to fervor, with people excitedly discussing how much they could get in this new wave of construction.
The beauty of an economic upswing lies largely in this: even those who are as insignificant as dust in the face of adversity still possess tolerance and yearn for the light.
Listening to the surrounding chatter, an architect who was drinking shook his head and slowly told his apprentice beside him about the troubles of happiness.
"We're going to be busy now."
The apprentice was stunned for a moment.
"Good business...isn't that a good thing?"
The middle-aged man grinned, took a sip of his fragrant beer, and squinted as he looked out the window.
"Of course it's a good thing... but our opponents are no pushovers. If we don't keep our eyes peeled, we'll have a hard time getting even a slice of the soup from this feast. I bet that 'Invincible Group' in the city will be holding a meeting until midnight tonight."
"'Invincible... Group'?" The young apprentice was even more confused, asking, "What is that? Are they very powerful?"
"It's more than just impressive..."
The architect took a sip of his drink, a rare hint of awe flashing in his eyes. "Those guys are like monsters that appeared out of nowhere."
Most people can only work 12 hours a day at most, but those monsters can work continuously for 24 hours without changing shifts!
That's not all!
Their construction techniques are also top-notch; they can build houses faster than many people can demolish them.
He was a worldly man, having traveled to many places to learn his craft when he was young, but this was the first time he had ever seen guys like those.
With their relentless drive and incredible skills, they quickly became the most efficient construction company in Thunder City.
Fortunately, their scale seemed small, and the number of construction sites they undertook was limited, which prevented everyone from losing their jobs.
It is said that several construction companies in Thunder City that were on the verge of bankruptcy were brought back to life by a few tricks they secretly learned from them.
They marched on other city-states along the Whirlpool Sea coast, monopolizing the entire northeastern coastal construction market and forcing local counterparts to put down their bricks and pick up muskets to compete for business.
Then--
And that was the end of it.
They encountered the same problem as the Green Forest Army.
The Duchy of Campbell, after all, is a duchy that rides on the head of the Demon King, and the farmers here are no less skilled at using firearms than they are at using hoes.
Soon, this group of Campbell entrepreneurs who went overseas to start businesses were surprised to find that they were not as weak as they had imagined.
They certainly couldn't beat the reckless "big oafs" of the Invincible Group, but beating up their neighbors was actually quite easy for them.
If that's the case, then why bother building houses at all!
As for what happened after that, that was another bloody saga unrelated to the Demon King's ambitions...
...
Workers who can work around the clock are certainly not normal humans. The monsters that amazed the citizens of Thunder City were all "pseudo-humans" from the Great Tomb.
Or to be more precise, they are all mushroom people who grew from the roots of the "Gray Wind" tree.
That's a story from several versions ago, dating back to the invasion of the labyrinth by "Destruction Flame" Kalmandes.
After several version updates, these "pseudo-humans" now look no different from ordinary humans.
It is precisely this perfect disguise that allows players in the Great Tomb of Nazarick to move freely in Thunder City, where adventurers are as numerous as cattle, and even to build their own factions.
Due to the scarcity of closed beta access to "Catastrophe Online" and its strict server rules, so far these "fake players" have only been fooling around with the NPCs and haven't caused any serious trouble.
Night had fallen, but a lone tent on the construction site of the new industrial zone in Leiming City was still brightly lit.
One of the most spacious tents was the headquarters of the "Invincible Group," which struck fear into the hearts of countless civil engineers in Thunder City!
The tent was unremarkable. A kerosene lamp sat on a table made of several wooden planks, and on the racks on either side were maps of the outskirts of Thunder City, as well as various complex architectural drawings and densely packed project schedules.
This place doesn't look like a gaming guild's stronghold; it looks more like a den of high-level players who fight assailants.
"...The payment for the last batch of cement has been settled, with a profit margin of 35.7%. Wow, that's much higher than expected!"
The president, a wealthy man who was eating dirt, was carefully checking a thick ledger. Although his expression remained as calm as ever, his eyes had turned into the shape of gold coins.
Not far from him, the chief designer, [Jade-faced Hand-tired King], was frantically drawing on a huge blueprint, muttering concepts like "structural mechanics" and "material fatigue" that were completely unheard of by the locals.
Actually, he himself didn't know much; he learned everything by doing.
This game is always inexplicably too realistic, making me lose my hair. All the hardships I never experienced at work are now being endured in the game.
If it weren't for the fact that gold coins can be exchanged for ghost money, and ghost money can be exchanged for RMB, he would never be a professional gamer!
This is incredibly life-consuming!
"...No, there's a problem with the design of this load-bearing wall. A cross beam structure must be added, otherwise the compressive strength will decrease by at least 30%..."
[Iron-Blooded Fat Otaku] is staring at a resource list, racking his brains to figure out transportation routes and the allocation of human resources.
Outside the tent, the foreman, "Lame Wolf," stood with his hands on his hips, directing a group of "newbies" with dreams of getting rich to move cheap timber that had just been smuggled from the cemetery under the cover of night.
Just then, the tent flap was suddenly flung open, and a player responsible for gathering information rushed in, panting heavily.
He excitedly slammed a piece of scrap paper on the table; the newly printed "Mud City Special Zone Decree" was copied on the paper.
"Guys! Something big has happened! Another new map has been released!"
The four core members inside the tent immediately gathered around.
Unlike the NPCs in the tavern, their reaction wasn't surprise, but rather excitement, like a shark smelling blood.
[The Rich Man Who Was Eating Dirt] snatched the paper, glanced at it quickly, and his eyes bulged out of their sockets.
"Holy crap! A new city development?! And building the city from scratch?! This is a massive expansion pack update!"
"That planner is awesome!"
"We've struck it rich! We've really struck it rich this time!"
The tent was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.
Although they were already so busy that they could hardly keep up, it didn't stop them from wanting more than they had.
【Jade-faced, tired-handed king】pushed past Hao Ge, excitedly snatched the paper, and began muttering incantations to himself.
"Swamp... Lizardmen... I've got it! We can combine towering stilt houses with intricate Gothic spires, and then incorporate totem elements from orc tribes... This will definitely be the server's first magnificent steampunk-style city!"
[The rich man who's eating dirt] rolled his eyes.
"Stop talking nonsense! Keep it simple!"
[Jade-faced, weary-handed King] scratched his ears and cheeks for a while.
"Uh, how about... wasteland punk?"
[The rich man who's eating dirt] His eyes lit up.
"Hmm...that's a good idea!"
"Transportation costs are high and material losses are significant in swampy areas; we must solve this problem first." After pondering for a while, [Iron-Blooded Fat Otaku] suddenly blurted out, "We need to design a steam-powered transport vehicle that can run on muddy terrain!"
Simply put, it's a tractor with wider tracks.
This thing isn't just for hauling materials; it can also be used for digging holes and transporting soil, especially when leveling land, where it can greatly reduce their workload.
"A tracked vehicle, right!" [The penniless tycoon] waved his hand dismissively. "That's easy! Just order one from Blackwind Fortress!"
[Jade-faced, weary-handed king] paused for a moment.
"Will that thing even work?!"
"The rich man who's eating dirt" said with a laugh.
"No big deal! Just tell them not to install turrets!"
"Then... what about manpower?" [Jade-Faced Tired King] raised the most crucial question, "The developers have been releasing new maps too quickly lately, I'm afraid there aren't enough newbies on the server, right?"
"That's easy! Just use NPCs to make up the numbers!" [Lame Wolf], who hadn't spoken until now, grinned, his eyes gleaming with shrewdness. "Tomorrow I'll go to the refugee camp outside the city and recruit another five hundred NPCs! Tell them that 'Invincible Group' provides food and lodging, pays wages daily, and there are bonuses for good performance!"
Although NPCs are far less efficient and flexible than players, they are a decent compromise when manpower is extremely scarce.
At least when it comes to purely physical labor like bricklaying, human laborers are far more useful than those skinny goblin laborers, especially the hardworking Campbells!
For ordinary people, Archduke Edward's special zone plan is just a business opportunity or a job opportunity, but for these players, it is a brand new expansion pack!
They will be the first to experience brand-new content, and what could be more exciting for players than that?
certainly--
The massive amounts of experience, reputation, and economic rewards are one of the reasons why they are eager to be among the first to release a new version.
The esteemed Demon King never mistreats those who work for him.
With a gleam of hunger in his eyes, the "Rich Man Who Eats Dirt" gave the order and began the deployment of the "battle".
"Hey, you work through the night to finish the design drawings. Tomorrow I'll take them directly to the Dawn's Embrace Hotel to find that NPC named Sack! Fatty, go to Blackwind Keep and settle the order first! Cripple, go to the refugee camp to recruit workers first thing tomorrow morning! We must hold onto this 'pioneering contract' tightly before all our competitors can react!"
Excited shouts immediately erupted from inside the tent.
"receive!"
"Let's go, brothers!"
"Awooooo!"
...
The next morning, the enthusiastic young player took the blueprints to the "Embrace of Dawn" hotel to visit the NPC named Sack, but unfortunately, he was disappointed to find that the place was empty.
The realism of "Natural Disaster Online" lies in this: whenever a major event occurs, the "NPCs" are not usually in a fixed location, but are deeply involved in it.
Meanwhile, in the southwestern swamp.
The esteemed Windwhisper tribe envoy, Mr. Sack Gale, was following behind several Campbell scouts as they walked along the muddy path.
Besides the Campbell man, he was accompanied by a silent lizardman. The man's name was Ocdo, and he was said to be one of the Demon King's guards, emanating a chilling aura.
The Demon King told the taciturn guard not to pay him any mind.
Sack also tried hard not to focus his attention on the guy, and instead of talking to him, he looked around at the scenery.
The air here felt like a damp, cold towel, clinging tightly to his face. While it's true that lizardmen like damp environments, the humidity here made it hard for him to breathe.
All around were twisted trees that blocked out the sky, and beneath my feet was a murky pool of water bubbling with bubbles. The buzzing of unknown poisonous insects filled my ears.
Compared to the magnificent mountains and vast plains of the continent of Janna, this place truly deserves the title of "cursed land." Even the western swamp, which the Ankylosaurus called the "Land of the Ghost Crocodiles," seems like a paradise on earth compared to this place.
Sack couldn't help but feel a little doubtful. Was it really okay to build that special zone here?
However, when he thought that it wasn't him living there anyway, he immediately felt relieved and regained his calm and composed expression.
After passing through a treacherous reed bed, a simple settlement finally came into view.
The so-called village was nothing more than a cluster of low shacks built with wet mud and reeds on a relatively dry piece of land.
He saw some reptilians moving around on the edge of the settlement.
Most of them were short and hunched over, their scales dull and lifeless, their cloudy eyes filled with numbness and vigilance.
Clearly, they didn't expect humans to appear here.
Moreover, he was accompanied by a lizardman who was dressed quite extravagantly.
After learning of Sak's purpose, the lizardman guard standing at the entrance of the settlement quickly returned to report to the chief.
It didn't take long.
Sak then met Tartak, the so-called king of the "River Bend Tribal Alliance" and chief of the Stone Lizard tribe, in a large tent made of animal hides.
The chief was quite old; his gray scales resembled cracked pebbles, etched with the marks of time.
Sak was quite surprised, not because of the chief’s old age, but because the system here was so similar to that of the United Kingdom of Gutaf.
However, when he realized that this was the Demon King's doorstep, he quickly felt relieved and erased the incident from his memory.
These days, how can a father act like a son?
Well, there are definitely still many differences.
While Sak Gale was deceiving himself, the elderly stone lizardman cautiously observed the wealthy lizardman lord.
He had never seen a lizardman earn the respect of humans, much less possess so much gold!
His gaze swept over Sack, finally noticing the wings behind him. His cloudy pupils seemed to have realized something, and they immediately trembled.
"You, you are the messenger of the Dragon God!"
Sak was startled to see Tartak suddenly prostrate on the ground and quickly stepped forward to help him up.
"What are you doing? Get up!"
"You are the messenger of the Dragon God! Your wings are the best proof!" The elderly stone lizard man repeated his words with tears in his eyes, and continued in a choked voice, "By Gutaf... you have finally come!"
Sack's expression was somewhat subtle.
"Having wings is the best proof"—what nonsense! It's true that the Dragon God came from the sky, but the Dragon God himself can't fly.
According to the orthodox epic recorded by the Ankylosaurus, the Dragon God created the Ankylosaurus based on himself. Later, to make up for his inability to fly, he created dragons and instructed the Ankylosaurus to raise them for him.
The original dragons were not as sacred as humans imagined; they were merely pets of the Dragon God… However, this is all from a very distant past, and he only had a vague understanding of it.
However, the old stone lizard didn't care about any of that. He grabbed his arm and started babbling on and on, talking about everything from the first era to the second.
"In our Stone Lizard tribe, there has always been a fable that the Dragon God has never forgotten His people. One day, He will send his winged brethren to guide us home. We...we have finally waited for you!"
Looking at the old lizardman with snot and tears streaming down his face, Sack's expression was as if he had swallowed a fly, while the Campbells behind him showed expressions of relief on his behalf.
Very good.
The dragon god finally came and took the lizardmen away. Maybe in a few hundred years this swamp won't smell so bad anymore.
"Ahem... Chief Tartak, calm down. Although I haven't heard your parables, I am indeed here to help you."
Sack coughed lightly and repeated, in a more tactful manner, what he had said to Archduke Edward to the chieftain of the Stone Lizard tribe.
In short, the Dragon God did not forget them and did indeed intend to take them home, but not immediately; rather, he would take them back slowly and methodically.
Tartak was quite old and had seen all sorts of things. He knew that he looked like a beggar in front of the other party, and that the other party would definitely not be willing to take him into their home. The fact that the other party didn't show their disdain on their face was already a great favor.
It's enough that they have this idea.
Besides, it doesn't really matter whether he goes back or not. The key is that this fellow clansman seems to be here to help the poor, so of course he has to take advantage of this opportunity for his clansmen.
Having fully demonstrated the pragmatism of a pragmatist, Tartagh yielded to the olive branch of "reconciliation" extended by the Principality of Campbell, and was extremely grateful for the "charity" bestowed by the Kingdom of Gutaf.
The elderly chief, his face etched with emotion, said that they, the “forgotten ones,” had waited far too long for this day.
Just when Sak thought he was about to complete the task given to him by the Demon King, Tartak suddenly changed the subject, and a look of helplessness appeared on his old face.
“However, Your Excellency, if you had come here a year earlier, things would have been better. The tribal alliance is no longer under the control of our Stone Lizard Clan.”
Sak paused for a moment.
"Aren't you the king?"
“That’s right, but I, the king… am like the mayor of Thunder City,” Tartak said slowly, glancing casually at the Campbells behind Sak. “About two years ago, a merman tribe called ‘Greyfin’ migrated here from the Whirlpool Sea.”
"They claim to be children of the Dragon God, but it's obvious to anyone with eyes that these brutal fellows have never heeded the Dragon God's teachings."
Sak stared blankly at the old man, never expecting that such a poor place, where even birds wouldn't come, would have such a complicated history of grudges and entanglements.
"……Then what?"
Tartag sighed.
"And then... it's the story of the farmer and the snake. We took them in out of kindness, but they tyrannically took control of the entire bend, which Campbell calls the Southwest Swamp. Now I'm just a puppet, the leader of the 'Greyfin' tribe is the real master here."
You should have said so earlier.
You should have told me earlier so I could have gone to see him.
Sak was speechless.
Perhaps sensing his silence, Tartag continued speaking without stopping.
"That leader's name is Kunga, and he's an ambitious fellow. He claims to be blessed by the Dragon God, sees all humans as his mortal enemies, and there's no way he'll reconcile with the Duchy of Campbell, much less agree to the conditions you've proposed—"
Sack pressed his temples and couldn't help but interrupt the old man.
"Wait, didn't he only arrive two years ago? What does this have to do with him?"
“You’re very clever; you saw the problem right away,” Tartak said approvingly, glancing at Sak. “He doesn’t care about the plight of the Reach tribes at all. He might not even be considered a lizardman; hatred is just a tool for him to seize power. He even tried to take over the labyrinth before, but he didn’t succeed. I bet if he had, he would have called himself a hellish…lizard.”
“Kunja is a ruthless leader. He has been waiting for an opportunity, and that is the fall of Copper Pass. Once Copper Pass falls, the Chaos army will surely sweep across the entire Kingdom of Ryan. At that time, he will be able to lead the tribes of the River Bend up the river and reclaim the rich lands that once belonged to us.”
“Hey, I can’t pretend I didn’t hear that,” one of Campbell’s scouts couldn’t help but chime in. “But I don’t understand, that guy couldn’t even beat our defeated opponents, so why does he think… we’d consider him a worthy opponent?”
Sack thought the same thing, except for the phrase, "We couldn't even beat our defeated opponents."
He didn't look down on these poor relatives with mixed bloodlines; he simply couldn't understand where these guys, still living in the last era, got the courage to challenge an industrialized duchy that was about to popularize steam technology and breech-loading rifles.
Perhaps they fought the Campbellians to a standstill, but as they themselves said, that was back in the distant end of the First Age.
These days, they probably don't even bother to look at them properly.
On Archduke Campbell's map, this miasma-shrouded swamp might not be as important as an undeveloped mining area.
If their land were even remotely valuable, they probably wouldn't have a "Northern Rescue Army" but rather a "Southwestern Reclamation Team."
Of course, this was just Sack's own opinion. Although he had been fortunate enough to see the outside world, he still didn't know much about the human world, especially about Saint Sith and the blood ties between the Ryans and Campbells.
However, if he had to come up with a reason, "power" might be a good explanation.
As Tartak said, Kunga didn't care about the situation of the tribes in the Bend, so how could he really be kind enough to help them reclaim their lost homeland?
The raised hand, poised to strike, doesn't necessarily have to land on Campbell's backside.
Anyway, when he saw how the chieftain of the stone lizard tribe had been subdued, it wasn't hard to guess who had actually been slapped.
But if that happens... then Kunga will definitely not be able to cooperate.
Looking at his poor relatives whose eyes were sparkling with expectation, Sack suddenly felt a bit awkward. He didn't even notice that Octo, whom the Demon King had sent to follow him, was silently watching him.
That look seemed to say, "What's so difficult about this?"
Just then, a commotion suddenly broke out outside the tent, and a series of rapid footsteps accompanied by a deep, hoarse voice drifted into the tent.
"The southwestern swamps do not welcome humans."
The moment Tartak heard that sound, his scales lost their color, and the chieftains inside the tent tensed up.
Sensing the hostile aura emanating from them, the Campbell scouts were on high alert, gripping their short flintlock pistols at their waists.
Sack turned around and saw a tall figure standing behind him, blocking the tent's exit.
It was an extremely young merman with dangerously gray-blue skin and eyes that gleamed with shark-like cruelty and greed.
He is Kunga.
"You shouldn't have come here."
Sensing the chilling murderous aura, Sack's pupils contracted slightly.
This is……
A god-level general?!
Or according to the standards of the Old World—
This guy is Silver!
Seeing the "cowardice" in the winged creature's eyes, Kunga grinned maliciously, his hand already on the short knife at his waist.
He didn't care whether he offended the Duchy of Campbell; he and his people could easily jump into the sea rather than confront Campbell's cavalry head-on.
As for those flintlock muskets, he didn't care at all.
If you want to use this thing to deal with him, you'll have to send at least a hundred-man squad!
However, just as Kunga was about to give the winged insect a quick death, a tall figure suddenly stepped forward and stood between him and Sak.
Kunga was slightly taken aback, feeling that the lizardman in front of him looked somewhat familiar, as if he resembled the... uh, earth dragon who had found him before?
That seems to be its name.
However, the aura emanating from this guy was completely different from that of the little guys in the maze, making it impossible for him to discern its true strength.
Especially those faded pupils, which are truly terrifying!
"Okdo."
The lizardman looked at Kunga, who was scrutinizing him, and silently gave his name. Before Kunga could even speak, an aura that was no longer suppressed instantly spread out!
Sensing the overwhelming pressure, Kunga's pupils suddenly contracted, and a look of astonishment appeared on his taut, scale-covered face.
This guy—
"No one can stop...my Majesty."
"Wait, wait a minute—" Kunga cried out and took a step back, wanting to speak up and make peace, but it was too late.
"You, go to hell."
Two curved swords appeared in Octo's hands without anyone noticing; the speed was so fast that no one could even see when he made his move.
A flash of silver light grazed Kunga's neck, freezing his terror on his face and silencing the rest of his unspoken words.
Blood splattered across half the tent.
Faced with the stunned crowd, Octo silently sheathed his scimitar back into his waistband, without even glancing at the fallen merman head.
It was Sak who finally broke the silence.
Looking at his completely stunned "poor relatives," he coughed softly.
"Shouldn't we... talk about something serious?"
(End of this chapter)
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
