My Players Are So Fierce

1602: 538.

If you seek, I shall respond_2

1602: 538.

If you seek, I shall respond_2

The fallen lineage crawling out of the darkness swept through the city like a storm.

Everywhere resounded with horrifying sounds of gnawing and chewing; I won’t lie, I was utterly terrified back then.

The family’s Samurai and Commanders frantically mobilized Soldiers from all directions, yet before they could reorganize their forces, the disaster escalated to its second stage—terrifying Dimensional Meteors were summoned to crash upon the city.

I swear I saw humanoid figures burning amidst the Star Realm’s flames; they rampaged through with no force capable of stopping them!

Those invading lunatics cared nothing for their own casualties; it seemed their sole aim was to seize our city, but they harbored no regard for leaving it intact.

The temple where I resided was struck by three meteors.

The chaotic aura of the Star Realm engulfed all my guardians, and I had no choice but to gather my Spirit and arm myself, attempting to break through the siege.

Risking my life, I hacked my way out, seeking escape from the city while using the Weaver of Destiny’s secret technique to call for aid from my peers.

Yet just at that moment, fate revealed my path ahead.

Lady Spider spoke to me!

She whispered in my ear, urging me to head to Transylvania immediately.

She claimed the future lay there.

As you see, oh graceful one, humble I—a devoted Clergy—had no hesitation in abandoning communication with others, fleeing the city surrounded by destruction, and rallying a terrified group of family members along the dark trails of the Eternal Abyss, leading them toward Transylvania.

Upon entering the Wasteland Mountain, I once again caught ripples in the stream of fate.

I saw your warriors slaughtering dangerous Jackal Warlocks amid blazing fires.

I saw them walking alongside ancient serpents.

I also saw you, oh radiant one, striding majestically beneath the sublime glory of the creator.

Thus, I knew I could progress no further.

Were I to recklessly enter the Polluted Swamp, I would surely disrupt the victory you’ve carefully planned.

Therefore, I and my followers remained in the Wasteland Mountain, where we encountered the Gladiators and their descendants who fled Mejewa City sixty years ago.

We purchased from them a small village and silently awaited the arrival of fate.

That is the full story.”

Lady Veylanther humbly folded her hands over her flat abdomen, while her other four hands hung low at her sides in a posture reminiscent of a servant devoted to their master.

Murphy was certain that Veylanther hadn’t shared her entire experience, but what she did reveal seemed true, for since the Weaver of Destiny first spoke, the Desire Ability had imperceptibly infiltrated her Spirit.

Murphy wasn’t merely listening to her spoken words; the Weaver of Destiny’s inner voice confirmed the veracity of the tale.

“Frankly, I don’t even care whether we and those descendants of Gladiators manage to reach any form of cooperation.”

The Weaver of Destiny spoke softly:

“They’re just a pitiful bunch of inconsequential fools.

They think they have a choice, yet with the Black Disaster imminent, they truly have none.

Like humble me, their sole destiny is to seek refuge in your warm embrace and fight for your supreme will!

Yet alas, they are far too obtuse to see through the guidance of fate, far less perceptive and submissive as I.

You don’t need them at all, Master Murphy.

If only you nod, both I and my followers will become your deadly vanguard.

When I fled that decaying city to pursue true destiny, I was already preparing to select servants for you.

Though my followers are few in number—just over two hundred—among them are thirty Sword Singers, while the rest are either Assassins or Psychics nurtured by the Mejewa Clan.

I don’t allow weaklings into my ranks, for I know well that you have no need for the service of feeble ones.

What’s most brilliant is that their Spirits have already been shattered by the Disaster; the moment you accept them, they will quickly become your loyal thralls.

And if all this cannot prove the fervor of my heart in serving you, then I shall further tell you—

The Natural Holy Blade, which once belonged to Avalon Church and is now within the grasp of the Mejewa Clan Matriarch, I have hidden along the path we traveled.

If you so desire, I would gladly offer the Gale War Bow as a tribute…

Ah, behold how foolishly humble I am!

These are sacred artifacts bestowed upon you by fate; we merely seek to restore them to their rightful owner.”

She stopped her obsequious and praise-laden speech, her peculiar black-and-white eyes filled with anticipation as she gazed at Murphy.

Meanwhile, the Vampire Governor maintained his silence, inwardly confessing that being extolled by such an extraordinary woman felt remarkably pleasant.

No wonder so many muddle-headed monarchs succumbed to the flattery of sycophants.

Yet Murphy managed to retain his rationality, and only after several minutes did he sheath his sword, speaking with an odd tone:

“Are all you Weavers of Destiny so adept with words?

Look at your speech—it makes me feel as if not accepting you would be a disservice to myself.

But the issue is, no one likes a traitor, Lady Veylanther.

If you can betray your family and pledge loyalty to an infamous Vampire just because of a prophecy, how can I not fear that in the future, upon receiving another divine revelation, you might abandon me without hesitation and swear fealty to someone else?

I understand it’s rather inappropriate to discuss this now.

But I believe we must clarify this matter before proceeding to the next step.”