Barbaros, Southern Marsh, Mollet Village.

Hades arrived in the third year of the South.

.

Motarian stood in the old and tattered courtyard, holding the kneeling man in front of him with his hand.

The man was old and blind on his back, one eye was a foggy white and the other was full of tears.

Motarian saw much in this eye, fear, unease, gratitude...... All kinds of emotions were mixed together - the man was almost choked up.

"Don't kneel."

Motarian said softly.

"You've been enslaved for too long, and this should have ended a long time ago."

He raised his voice a little as he looked at the people in the courtyard who were shuddering with their backs hooked.

But even so, Mortarian's voice was like a gossamer in the breeze.

"I'll show you a new path."

"Join us! If you don't have weapons, then we'll forge for you, and if you don't have armor, then we'll build for you, stand up, guys! ”

"There's no need to be afraid of witchcraft anymore!"

"Join us."

.

.

The people listened in horror to all about this stranger, who was so tall, tall and thin, like a god of death in the wind.

His words seemed magical, and every word was full of uplifting power, but his tone was indeed so soft, like a nocturne that his mother once hummed at night.

But - most of humanity here has been completely overwhelmed by fear, they have been crushed, they have succumbed, they are completely unable to think about things that are more distant.

Even though the stranger's words were full of hope, there was no memory of the distant future, for change, for leaving.

The man in the lead—his name was Regan—looked cautiously up at the stranger holding his hand.

Those amber eyes also looked at him earnestly, at an ugly and small man, completely occupied by fear.

"Thank you, my lord, for being so loyal to you...... However, however, the fields here must be replanted. ”

He shrugged his shoulders in cringe, as if he would be cruelly punished for refusing.

But no, nothing happened.

The hands still held him softly, there was no disdain or disgust in those eyes, he just looked at him seriously, and then looked at the group of villagers behind Regan.

Then he let go.

"Okay, the choice has been made."

He nodded, and put his hood back on.

Then he picked up his scythe, turned away, and disappeared into the mist.

.

.

Mortarian stood in the mist, watching the young man stumble through the poisonous mist.

And the farther away from the village, the more deadly the gas becomes.

After he left, the young man left the village and chased after Motarian with the scythe mark he had deliberately left behind.

Come on, let me see your determination, your tenacity.

Motari was silent.

There was a slight tremor on the other side of the mist, and Motarian turned his head and glanced at it, and then returned to his original position.

It's him, it's been a long time since we've seen him.

Mortarian observed the young man and his mind was immersed in the past......

Now that most of the northern strongholds have been taken, all the other northern lords have been slain, except for the area near his adoptive father, Nacre.

While the main stronghold in the north was hurrying to produce and consolidate its territory, it would be necessary to wait a little longer for the offensive of his adoptive father, Nacre.

But the progress of the Death Guard is now much faster than Motarian had expected.

The key to fast progress is in the south.

Originally, Motarian simply sent an advance army to defend the local people as much as possible and organize an armed resistance.

But first, Hades alone held back the southern lords' onslaught, providing the basis for Typhon to cooperate with the other villages.

Later, with the help of Hades, Typhon and the others acquired the craft of artillery, battering rams, and other weapons.

Aided by heavy firepower from a distance, the Death Guard advance force also managed to take the initiative and occupy the lords' territory.

In the battle of the Death Guard, the southern extermination of the lords went unusually well, and they didn't even need Mortarian's help.

This time, Motarian came only to inspect the death guard in the south, and to see if there was anything he could do.

However, after listening to Typhon's report, he realized that Typhon was more competent than he had imagined, and he led the Death Guards to liberate most of the south.

And now, there are only the last two or three strongholds left.

Then there was nothing to do with Motarian.

Mortarian does not directly ask Typhon to hand over the leadership, he is not an autocrat like his adoptive father, he gives his subordinates enough space to grow on their own, so that they can win their own glory.

What's more, he and Typhon were friends.

So Mortarian continued to let Typhon lead the south, and he went to the small villages that were deliberately ignored because of the terrain.

Just like in the beginning, Motarian slays down the monsters that attack the villages, and then enters the small villages to lobby.

Thinking of this, Motarian frowned unconsciously.

Abandon these small villages on the fringes and conquer or make peace with the big human strongholds.

This is indeed a highly effective strategy, and Typhon is clever.

But it shouldn't.

Every fighter who might resist should not be overlooked.

So Motarian came, and he wandered through the little villages—

- The young man in the fog fell to his knees, trembling and struggling in the mud, his limbs twitching, as if he wanted to climb forward.

Strong kids.

The young man never looked back once.

He didn't think about retreating.

Motarian thought as he strode forward quickly, pulling out a woollen mask soaked in herbal wine.

He walked over and carefully picked up the young man from the dirty ground, while pressing the woolen mask against the young man's mouth and nose, and he looked at him, at a strong fighter.

"If you don't look back, you'll continue to be miserable in the future."

Mortarian said softly,

"It's painful, are you strong enough?"

The young man struggled to breathe, anger and reluctance squeezing him, and his breathing began to grow rapid, dangerously fast—

"Make me strong enough."

After squeezing out the words with great difficulty, the young man finally fainted and gave himself to Motarian with all his heart, believing of course the stranger who had appeared less than two hours in his life.

.

Motarian picked up the young man with ease, and returned along the road from which he had come.

Don't worry about this young man, just put on a mask that filters poison gas, and this Barbaros will be fine soon.

Sometimes, all the resilient people of Barbaros need is a little clean air.

Layers of thick white mist tugged at the corners of Motarian's clothes, as if in vain they wanted to leave the Grim Reaper in place.

Ignoring the mist, Motarion's footsteps were unsteady.

But as he reached a depression of fog, Motarian stopped, staring at the other side—

From the dense fog in the distance, a figure appeared.

It was his old friend, Hades.