My Players Are So Fierce

1142: 386.

Murphy’s Eye: The Experiences of a Newly Initiated Heretic Pangolin_3

1142: 386.

Murphy’s Eye: The Experiences of a Newly Initiated Heretic Pangolin_3

“It asked me to deliver its message and its regrets to the person it trusted most, which is you, Sir Tear Flesh,” Murphy said.

“Trust…

ha, I never knew that word could come out of that fool Kenbort’s mouth.”

The old jackal wolfman clearly didn’t take Hog’s words at face value so easily, giving the sly-eyed, skinny jackal tribe chief a thorough once-over.

After a few seconds, it asked:

“You say you were Kenbort’s confidant?

Where is the evidence?”

Hog’s heart tightened.

He was about to come up with some lies when he heard Murphy suggest:

“Kenbort had two daggers and a bone ritual offering, made from the remains of the bloodthirsty hyena hound he raised since it was young; it was this very jackal warlock who crafted those items for him.

Kenbort’s rise to the position of military governor in the Bonebite Clan is also tied to your secret support, Sir Tear Flesh!

I presume Kenbort was the ‘puppet’ this warlock chose to manipulate within the Bonebite Clan.

They are not ‘nobles’ like those in Moss Valley; they seek to elevate their status by wielding control over these ‘nobles.’

Translate that into your own thoughts and tell it to him.

Don’t be scared; even if you say it wrong, the mere fact that you can speak of these matters unknown to others is enough to prove your close relationship with Kenbort.”

“Mhm.”

Hog felt a surge of excitement.

Bolstered by the information from Sir Morphy, he hesitated feignedly before spilling everything Murphy had just told him.

The old jackal wolfperson in front of him didn’t make any comment.

It just stared at Hog expressionlessly until he finished speaking and then let go of the cold demeanor, sighing:

“You indeed are a cunning one, able to perceive the deeper meanings beyond Kenbort’s understanding.

Correct, he was the military governor we, the Pestilence Clan, chose in Moss Valley!

I had hoped that Kenbort could make a name for himself in the Bonebite Clan, so that our marginal clan might ride his coattails to glory.

But that fool completely failed to follow my plan after entering Transylvania.

Enough!

Better the uncontrollable fool is dead; it saves us the trouble of being dragged into an even worse situation later.

You’ve said all you came to say, Hog, you may leave now.”

“No, Sir Tear Flesh.”

How could Hog pass up such an opportunity?

He stepped forward with a howl, before earnestly saying:

“King Kenbort is dead, and Transylvania has changed.

Those Blood Vulture bastards have been attacking my poor clan in Smugglers’ Forest.

They even destroyed the Skeleton Army you sent out, look at this!”

He removed the festival wand from his waist and showed it to the old jackal wolfman, Sir Tear Flesh, then retold the events that took place in Smugglers’ Forest with some artistic license, stating:

“They defeated your ‘Necromancer’, it was my warriors and I who seized this wand amidst the chaos, and it guided me here.

Sir, to be frank, my clan has been brought to the edge of ruin by Kenbort’s defeat.

We now need support…”

“What do I care about your life or death?”

Tear Flesh said unmoved:

“The Pestilence Clan has its own mission; we are busy.”

“We can block the vampires of Transylvania from stepping into the marsh!”

Hog shouted:

“They’re preparing to do that now!

You must not know yet, but the head vampire of Transylvania, Murphy, has already sent people to build fortifications on the outskirts of the swamp.

They’re trying to defend against the Black Disaster, and if they break through and discover your presence, it’ll disrupt whatever mission you have!

Those people are madmen!

Otherwise, Kenbort wouldn’t have died so miserably!

They dare to unleash terrifying Spiritual Energy on their own land; they wouldn’t hesitate to use those dangerous powers in the swamp!

Sir Tear Flesh, helping us is helping you!

We can hold them off!

Just ten festival wands like this, just ten elite Skeleton Army units…

I saw you have an endless supply of corpses to create soldiers from outside, just give us a little, and your concerns will be relieved.

I am a jackal wolf, sir!

My name is still on the Blood Rat Gang’s wanted list, my brain is worth 250 Transylvanian gold coins – enough to get all the bounty hunters in Transylvania moving.

They won’t let me off the hook; you can completely trust me and my clan.”

“Hmm…interesting.”

Tear Flesh narrowed his eyes and took another close look at Hog, making him feel uneasy, but then he heard Tear Flesh sigh out:

“Our tribesmen are savage and belligerent; wisdom is a rarity for them, and even rarer is a jackal wolf like you, who can refine cunning to such a degree.

If Kenbort had half your brains, I wouldn’t need to worry about its end.

Alright, alright, you’ve persuaded me.

Go to the Construct Tower and find my apprentice, Lame Claw; it will give you more festival wands.”

“Thank you, Sir Tear Flesh!”

Hog wagged his tail excitedly.

Then, remembering Sir Morphy’s comments about the “status of the jackal wolf,” he boldly asked when Tear Flesh was turning to leave:

“Sir, in all honesty, King Kenbort promised me before its death, saying I was clever and well-suited to serve as a priest for The Master of Hunting…”

“You?”

Tear Flesh showed a peculiar expression uncommon for jackal wolfpeople, giving Hog another look, and shaking its head said:

“You’re far from it!

Your strength is weak, your body fragile; a Seat Wolf could easily flip you over and eat you alive, you wouldn’t even pass the first trial of a hunting priest.

Kenbort obviously just gave you an irresponsible lure to keep you invested in your work.

But…alright, if you ever get a chance to enter the Dark Mountain Range, make sure to bring a complete heart of a Goat People priest to the lair of the Pestilence Clan; my students will help you with the priest initiation.

You must complete that dangerous hunt entirely on your own, without any participation from others.”

At this point, the jackal warlock sighed and, somewhat listlessly, waved its hand, saying:

“Go on then, give it a try, and see whether The Master of Hunting will bless you.

Perhaps it’s indeed time our Master of Hunting received a little service from wisdom.”