Chapter 1817: 606. Mr. Mo, who gilds his face, is about to be exposed now_3
We realized this only after witnessing Lady Natalie’s outburst. This is a world where divine spirits exist, Uncle Qin. We cannot merely compare on-paper strength.
Of course, Lady Shui and I are just offering suggestions. The real decision is still in your hands.”
“You two youngsters have laid it all out. If I don’t listen, I’d be making a mistake. Alright, I accept your suggestions.”
Old Qin laughed heartily and said:
“Convey my thanks to Happy Stick. That young man is indeed impressive; he shows decisiveness at crucial moments. You should also prepare for support. When my second group is depleted, it’s your turn.”
“Yes, we are already preparing for battle. Though some brothers are grumbling about not being victors…”
“As long as we hold this place, everyone is a victor! If we can’t hold it, everyone is a loser.”
Old Qin ended the conversation with a single sentence.
He let out a long breath, standing under the blood-red battle flag that had been propped up with a special pole, gazing at the organized pack of werewolves ahead, who were flying the Whip-tail Clan’s battle flag. They had simply formed a charging formation, and the army behind them was still lazing around like an armed outing.
How arrogant!
The Military Governor on the other side evidently believed they had the upper hand, to the point they wouldn’t need to get bogged down in Transia like the other failures.
They might have the right to be proud, but the master of Transia surely wouldn’t let them have it easy!
Lord Qin closed his eyes.
Sacrifice 3000 points!
Summon the “Eye of the Wolf God,” Turner, to the battlefield!
Sacrifice 3500 points!
Summon the Governor of Transia, the soul of the Blood Vulture Clan, Count Cardman Levono Murphy Leussenbra to the battlefield!
Ah, Goddess of Victory, this is our final offering. Please grant us a victory as the curtain falls on these frenzied twenty days.
—
“What? They dismantled two military groups just to summon me to the battlefield to fight werewolves? Do they want to see my debut CG and defeat illustration that badly?”
At this moment in the Blackflame Mountain Pass, Murphy stared in disbelief at the summoning notice flickering on his Core Bead.
The Triss people beside him were laughing senselessly.
The distinguished Blood Vulture Duke was clutching his stomach and rolling on the bed like a beautiful fool, showing none of the vampiric prodigy’s usual dignity.
“Ahahah, this is undoubtedly the funniest scene I’ve seen in the past 100 years.”
Triss laughed out of breath, pointing shakily at Murphy and said:
“My dear little Mo Fei deliberately adjusted his score to match that of a Gold ranker to gain face, only to have his eyes pecked by an eagle.
Now people think you surely have a surefire solution!
My beloved little Mo Fei, but if you go to the battlefield and make a fool of yourself, what will happen to your honorable reputation?
Your illustrious name could just…”
“Laugh, laugh, laugh! What’s so funny?! ”
Furious with embarrassment, Sir Morphy unhesitatingly went forward, grabbing the howling Triss and smacking her ample parts until she pleaded for mercy. Yet, the grin of amusement on Blood Vulture Duke’s face was irrepressible.
She even suggested to Murphy:
“How about I disguise as you with illusions? No offense, but given the quality of the Whip-tail Clan’s vanguard, you wouldn’t make much of a difference even with your genius.”
“Tsk, how could a wondrous person like me be seen as someone seeking fame?”
Murphy snorted, straightened his clothes, and flew out of the room with his wings spread, saying:
“Today, I’ll show you folks that the Governor of Transia is also skilled!”
Watching little Mo Fei soar towards the battlefield, Triss shook her head helplessly, thinking that everything about Murphy was fine except for his unwillingness to show weakness in front of players, which was a bit problematic.
At this point!
It would have been much better to show some humility to the Duke, rather than disgrace yourself by personally going to the front!
Or are you, as the museum director, planning to summon giant snakes for battle?
Well, one or two giant snakes might annihilate Whip-tail Clan members in swampy terrain, but the timing is off and the terrain isn’t right either.
Honestly, Triss was also curious about the reason for Murphy’s boundless confidence.
She spread her dragon-like wings and slowly ascended into the air. Upon reaching the high tower, she encountered Lord Hether, clad in battle armor, observing the fight.
Tonight, Lord Hether was clad in golden armor of traditional Brass Dwarf style, with two combat shields placed nearby.
Evidently, this Dwarf Vampire lady was ready to be summoned to the battlefield; she had prepared for this even before the deathmatch began and had even voluntarily requested to be put on the summoning list.
“Come over, Lady Triss.”
Lord Hether called:
“You had already disappeared for many years when I became a vampire. I heard your story from Palano and Yvette. But I’m curious, why aren’t your warriors summoned, and instead Mr. Morphy is being sent to the battlefield?
He’s just a talented yet unproven Black Iron Rank, isn’t he?”
“Because the Lord of the Transia people must face any challenge with his folks. He must be the protector and leader of Transia people in desperate moments.”
Triss folded her wings and landed on the tower.
She took out two bottles of wine, handed one to Lord Hether, and opened one herself.
A tall and a short Golden One clinked glasses. At the moment when the fine wine was consumed, Triss suddenly said:
“Everyone says you’re a Brass Dwarf, but I know your real race is an offshoot of Brass Dwarves, Shield Dwarves, right? You like using shields in battle and are slightly taller than regular dwarves.
Back when I traveled the Continent, I once took shelter from the snow in your clan’s fortress while crossing Polut Pass.
Is old Fan Te, that lecher, still alive?
That scoundrel once tried to rob me and make me his Mountain Mistress.”
“Oh, Lord Fan Te Hoffman fell in the fourth Black Disaster, and his tombstone is in the cemetery of the Brass Fortress.”
Lord Hether spoke with a deep voice from beneath his helmet:
“The Hoffman Family isn’t well-known within the Brass Dwarf system because our Shield Dwarf Clan doesn’t desire involvement in their complex and tedious politics. Frankly, most outsiders can’t differentiate between Brass Dwarves and Shield Dwarves.
Besides, the lecher you mentioned was my uncle, and you almost became my Vampire Aunt.
Tsk tsk, destiny is truly wondrous.”
“Hmph, not only can I identify you, but I also know you Shield Dwarves are all hopeless alcoholics and gamblers. I bet that mysterious person who placed the biggest wager in the Death Battle Arena on us not holding out to the end with fifty thousand Gold Coins and a Runic Great Axe of the Hill Lord is you, right?
Your bets are so generous; you even wagered fifty thousand gold coins and a Runic Great Axe on us not holding out till the end. If I’m not mistaken, old Fan Te personally carried that axe and escorted me to Charldo Harbor, and the scoundrel tried to get fresh with me then too.”
Triss said:
“Why not this? Let’s place a bet on whether my little Mo Fei can help the Transia warriors make it through tonight.”
“Impossible! Whip-tail Clan is one of the strongest werewolf clans; they’re not rookies like Dirty Claw. I don’t believe Morphy can provide such protection.”
“Then let’s bet, if I lose, I’ll not only give you back that Hill Lord’s Great Axe, but also agree to be your uncle’s Mountain Mistress.
But if I win…
I’ll want a bottle of your blood!
Don’t ask why I want it, just honor the bet if you lose.
Okay?”