Almost at the same time as the Crimean fortress collapsed, the priests of the Bloodscar Clan sent the great news to Mossy Valley, much to the delight of the patriarch Amot, who was guarding there.

Ah, the Crimean fortress has collapsed, the road to the great plains of Kafhoka has been cleared, and there is nothing to stop the army of Xu Gesen from entering the continent and repeating the glory of the Black Plague!

Even better, the god of the north wind, who has lost his power, has fallen to the earth, and his own god has taken it as his prey, and a hunt for the gods will begin in the frozen ruins, and his own god will take down his first among the gods before he is born.

What a glory!

How mighty!

How powerful!

The master of his own hunt is really invincible in the world!!

As a devout follower of the Lord of the Hunt, when he saw that the situation was so good that he could not imagine the perfect situation that he could not imagine now, the patriarch of Rao was so well-informed that he could not help but feel happy, and even the prayer he carried out in the afternoon was doubled, so that the group of hunting priests who prayed with him almost broke their legs.

But no one dared to complain about such a thing, not even a whimper of dissatisfaction.

Your own gods have won a big victory, and you don't have to wave the flag and shout next to you, how can you still grow the morale of others to destroy your own prestige?

Say!

Have you been bought off by that damn "faith in creation"? Are you planning to mutiny?

Come!

Drag the disloyal pair of hunters down and give their evil gods a boost.

Well, this is the end of the people who don't show fanaticism to the Lord of the Hunt in the Mossy Valley, and as the stronghold of the Lord of the Hunt's faith, the distortion of this place began long before the Lord of the Hunt's power was formed.

Of course, although Mossy Valley is a sacred place for gnolls, it was the territory of the Shadow Elves before the three Black Plagues.

Even though that was more than two hundred years ago, even after being overrun by the gnolls for so long, there are still many remnants of elven-style buildings in this rich and huge valley.

Mostly the ruins of ornate temples, mossy and covered with plants such as creepers, hidden in the shadowy woods.

The Jackals don't come to these places very often, and the art style of the buildings here is of little value to them, and the hidden treasures have long been snatched up, and it is said that after the rise of the King of Biters, Lord Fredet liked to wander around these broken places, but no one can understand what kind of mentality the King of Biters saw these "relics".

In short, when the Patriarch Amot left the shrine of the Lord of the Hunt after satisfying his prayers and returned to the core town of the Bloodscar Clan through a field of elven ruins to deal with the affairs of the clan, the good mood that had arisen from the victory of his own gods quickly vanished.

Because a very troublesome guest visited it.

Singh, the old chief of the Whiptail Clan, dragged his body to the Mossy Valley, which was too weak to even walk and needed to be carried by his people with a sliding pole.

It seems that the rumors of an imminent transition of power from the Whiptail Clan are true, and this old guy may not live more than two months now.

Its weakness in the bones could not be disguised, and if it weren't for the fact that Old Singh was indeed old and frail, Patriarch Amot would even think that this weakness was a sequelae of poisoning.

"Amott, I want you to help me with a deathbed hunt prayer."

Old Singh didn't hide his intentions either.

It lay half-dead on the sliding rod, unable to open even its cloudy eyes, and said weakly:

"I'm dying, and I'm going to return to my lord's kingdom of God, but I don't want to die and can't die, and there's still a lot of work to be done, and I thought that if you yourself prayed for me, maybe my god would send me a gift to make me healthy again.

Please, help me. ”

"Old immortal things, don't you want to give up the power in your hands after all of this?"

Patriarch Amot was very disdainful of Old Singh's behavior.

It felt that this was not in line with the tradition of the gnolls, that the old guy should be a little self-aware, and that a guy like Singh who was hungry was a shame for the gnoll.

Of course, on the surface it is impossible to say such a blunt thing.

Although the old Singh is old and mediocre, this guy has a very strong control over the Whiptail Clan, and is a big chief with real power, and now that the cause of the Lord of the Hunt is in full swing, the Gnolls want to further occupy the whole world without the full support of the Whiptail Clan.

But in the face of Old Singh's request, Patriarch Amot was a little hesitant.

It knew that what Old Singh wanted was not the ordinary hunting prayers, but a large ritual on a cliff near the Holy Land, using a large number of hunting priests.

It was a ritual that only took place during the grand festival when the jackals celebrated the appearance of the lord of the hunt, and not only did it have a strong symbolic meaning, but more importantly, it was a ritual that could indeed communicate the blessings of the gods with power.

And one of all the blessings happens to be to strengthen life and alleviate aging.

That's the purpose of the old Singh's trip.

It's going to live!

However, now that such a huge ceremony is held temporarily, not to mention the manpower and material resources that need to be spent, it is not quite right for old Singh to choose this juncture, and even if the ceremony is actually held, it is unknown whether the Lord of the Hunt, who is now busy with awakening matters, will respond.

So Amott thought for a moment and politely refused:

"I'm more than willing to help you, Singh, my god needs a healthy whiptail chieftain, but you may not know that the central battlefield has just broken through, and the Nord Crimean fortress has collapsed under the divine power of my god, and Hygesen will soon be able to lead his army into that rich land.

In this way, the Gelman Bitern chieftain in the west and the Uhgesen overseers in the center were victorious, and the unfinished work of the Biting King was even possible.

I'm about to call on all of the Bloodscar Clan to join in this great conquest, and I'm really"

"But you need food and enough weapons."

Old Singh, who was lying on the pole, gasped, and that difficult posture made Patriarch Amot worry if this guy would be in front of his eyes in the next second.

But Singh finally finished what he wanted to say, and the treacherous old creature whispered:

"I knew my request was excessive, so I brought a gift! A gift to the Bloodscar Clan, the food owned by the Whiptail Clan was brought by me for a fifth, and the armor and weapons we stored were also brought in a lot.

Now just outside of Mossy Valley, you can send someone to receive it.

I have only one request.

Now that my God's conquest of the world is about to begin, it is all the more important for me to hurry up and get healthy! I don't want to miss this sacred battle, and I want to continue to dedicate my strength to God.

Please, Amott.

Help me, it's just a poor old man's prayer to take back his power to serve the gods, and the worst is not likely to cause worse results, right?

Help me!

Hold a prayer service for me!

All that I brought is yours, and my clan has many more, help me, Amott, help me escape from death!

I can give them all to you."

"Singh, calm down, it's not that I won't help you, it's really"

"Fifty thousand wolves!"

Old Singh gritted his teeth and said:

"I'll give you another 50,000 wolves, enough for you to arm a powerful wolf cavalry, help me!"

"It's not a sale! Hell, we're talking about faith, we."

"Ten vassal clans!"

Old Singh doubled again.

Its wheezing became more and more intense, like the true attitude of a dying old man who fears death, wanting to spend all the treasures in his hand in the hope of getting a second life.

"You"

Old Singh's price was so lucrative that Amott was a little dumbfounded.

To tell the truth, at this moment, the Bloodscar Patriarch had a dark thought floating in his heart, he might be able to use this ritual excuse to squeeze the rich Whiptail Clan out in one go, but after thinking about it, the conquest of the mainland was about to begin, and all clans had to carry out a full mobilization to cope with the advance of the two battlefields in the west and the center.

This critical moment will not do the Whiptail Clan any more urgency, and it will not be good for the cause of the Lord of the Hunt.

"Well, I've seen your supreme loyalty to the gods, Singh."

Amott's voice changed, and he said hypocritically:

"We gnolls do not need these gifts to prove our God's sincerity, faith itself is the most glorious reward, but in consideration of the world conquest that my God wishes to see, I accept your sincerity.

I will at once gather the priests to prepare a prayer for you, but you will also send your cronies back to your clan to gather your people into this war.

That's the bottom line!

No need to talk about it. ”

"Good, good, all right! I just want my ritual. Ahem, I mean, all the members of the Whiptail Clan are looking forward to giving their strength to my god. ”

Old Singh responded with some excitement, and then it said:

"Well, then, I'm waiting for your good news in the Whiptail Clan's garrison in the valley, and I hope to enjoy the blessings of the gods tomorrow, and a healthy Great Chief certainly helps to boost the morale of a clan.

You're right? ”

"Greedy old thing!"

Patriarch Amot immediately felt disgusted, this old Singh is too anxious, right?

To prepare for the ceremony in one night, he had to gather at least two-thirds of the priests in Mossy Valley, but seeing Old Singh's really bad posture, Amott also somewhat understood why this guy was so anxious.

Old Singh now coughed several times even to say a word, its heartbeat was so weak that even a golden person like himself could hardly detect it, it was really on the verge of death, and it was unknown whether it would survive tonight.

"Alright, I'll gather people to prepare the ceremony for you immediately, this is the courtesy you deserve as a high chief."

Amott reluctantly agreed to the expensive gifts, and as Old Singh thanked him for leaving, the patriarch immediately called the Overseers of the Bloodscar Clan to defend the valley.

When the latter heard the patriarch's inquiry, he immediately reported:

"There is indeed a large convoy outside the valley, and the Whiptail Clan has brought two hundred and sixty carts pulled by the Lothmon, half of which are loaded with food, and the other half with weapons and protective gear, and I have sent someone to check it, and so far no problems have been found.

However, the number of brute soldiers used to escort such a large convoy is also very large, more than 3,000 people. ”

"Let them send things into the Bloodscar Clan's warehouse, and then let them leave the Holy Land as soon as possible!"

Patriarch Amot commanded:

"This batch of food and weapons will arm a new army for us, and you will send someone to the territory of the Whiptail Clan to receive 50,000 wolves, which Old Singh just promised, and ten additional vassal clans."

"Lord of the Hunt, old Chief Singh, isn't this going to live?"

The Overseer of the Guard was startled, and exclaimed:

"Is this going to be sold by the Whiptail Clan? What is it trying to do? ”

"Hehe, you are still young, you don't understand the feeling of being powerless as life passes, especially when old Singh is a long-lived jackal, the longer it lives, the weaker its courage becomes."

Amott sneered and said:

"The blessing of time has turned it into a shameful coward, in order to survive, let alone sell his clan, it has done even more shameful things.

However, this guy is indeed treacherous, and he has calculated that my god's next conquest cannot be separated from its clan, so at this time, it can not only get health, but also take advantage of this good opportunity to snatch back what it gave away from other places on the continent.

Tsk, what a cunning chieftain, and if I had been more sincere, I would have invited him to become the high priest of my god.

Go, go, get those gifts into our hands, and send a message to the priests all over the valley to assemble on the Hunting Bluff as quickly as possible, and take some of your soldiers out there to help set up the ceremony.

The ritual must be completed overnight. ”

"Oh, okay, okay, I'll go right away."

The tall Overseer turned to leave, and soon different orders were given to different areas of the valley, and the Whiptail Clan convoy that had been blocked out of the valley was finally allowed to set foot in the valley sanctuary.

The Whiptail Clan's Grand Overseers rode in their own war wagons, while the barbarians in the rear had no choice but to line up.

In the middle of the line, old Senk, clad in ordinary gnoll armor, looked around with a look of nostalgia mixed with disgust, having served as the Overseer of the Mossy Valley in the days of the Lord of the Bitres.

It knows the terrain inside out.

Behind it were two thousand fighters handpicked from the entire Broken Fang Clan's Creation Guards, who did not wear the uniform of honor or carry the powerful weapons bestowed by the Creator, but that did not hide the terrifying destructive power they would create if they erupted.

They're just vanguards, they just need to take down the valley entrance!

Farther away, the Blue Wolf Army and the Guardians of Creation under the command of the Virtuous Wolf himself were already asleep, and in a few hours, the valley that had witnessed the rise of the Gnoll would be ablaze.

In this regard, Old Senke did not have any regret or dissatisfaction.

Instead, it just felt that the moment had come too late, and that after the end of the Bone King's feat, the great valley had been stolen by the Young.

The servants of the evil gods who pretended to be gods and ghosts walked in the land where the king had pondered the future of the race, and did the foolish things of worshipping the evil gods in the base camp of the king's glorious deeds.

Everything that has happened in the Moss Valley in the past hundred years is the most terrible desecration of the Great Cause of the King of Biting Bone.

Old Senk had only one thought to revisit his hometown at this time.

It now wants to open the explosives hidden under the food in the carriage it guards, and burn this place that smells of profanity to ashes!

That's what it's wanted to do for the last hundred years.

Well, there is no need to hide it anymore, and soon, it will bring back the glory that the gnolls have forgotten under the teachings of the evil gods.

Just tonight!

Right here, the evil gods will eat their own bitter fruits! ——

"O Lord! I know the god-killing operation is very secretive, but you should at least give us a little time to prepare before you start the operation! ”

The team of Godslayer was speeding through the Dark Mountains, and Uncle Ferdin, riding his horse, complained:

"It's at least a hundred kilometers from the battlefield, is it really too late for us to rush to Moss Valley?"

"Huh?"

In the face of Fordin's inquiry, Lord Pa Ying, who was driving the unicorn unhurriedly on the ground, turned his head to look at the player suspiciously, and he asked:

"When did I say we were going to ride over?"

"Huh?"

Uncle Ferding was stupid, and so were the group of veteran players around him.

If you don't ride a horse, is it going to teleport wide?

Isn't Mossy Valley protected from teleportation?

"This is a covert operation, and time is of the essence of life and victory, so I have called upon another force in addition to gathering you. Look, they're coming, let's sit that thing over! ”

The Lord pointed to the sky.

Everyone looked up in unison, and in the approaching dusk daylight, a strange flying object was descending from the clouds in their direction.

"That's . What is it? ”

Riding an "exclusive mount" and giving Brother Huozi a set of cool druid wooden armor, the water lady asked suspiciously:

"Looks like an airship?"

"That's the Songhai people's sun boat."

Walking in the procession, Grandma Bach, the psionic master of the Psionic Powers, sat cross-legged on her flying carpet, adjusted the potion in her hand, and explained without raising her head:

"A hundred years ago, it was this thing that destroyed the last resistance of the King of Biting Bones, and I knew that the confidence of Lord Pa Ying to dare to kill gods was not on us godslayers, and the support of the Pharaoh was his greatest source of confidence.

Not.

Millennial Lord, what a cunning. ”

(End of chapter)