My Players Are So Fierce

The brutal chainsaw sword hacked through flesh and bone as if tearing through paper, and the scene of blood spraying everywhere was intensely impactful.

“The blood of brutality must not be wasted like this…”

The headless corpse remained suspended in the air, but the blood surging from the torn neck was drawn by Murphy’s left hand, gathering into his palm.

He held the blood orb and looked at the Silver Jackalman Warlord standing amidst the remnants of corpses.

In the background between them, those Throne Wolves were being ruthlessly dominated by George and Reveno.

“The Governor of the Transia People salutes you, General of the Split Claw Clan.

My lands are wailing, imploring me, as the tax officer, to collect the blood tax you owe from the four black disasters…

That’s a truly astronomical number.

We have no time to waste.

Let’s settle each blood debt!”

The Vampire Lord hovered in the air, releasing the chainsaw sword, letting the halted item pierce into the ground and stay there.

It was too heavy and difficult to manoeuvre, not suitable for a one-on-one challenge against a strong enemy.

Murphy wasn’t a berserker relying on brute force for direct confrontation.

He had better options.

His right hand loosened then tightened, and the incoming demon sword Necessary Evil cooperatively fell into Murphy’s palm.

Murphy looked at the Jackalman Warlord in front of him, holding a double-handed bone battle axe.

He gave a shy smile, gently sipped from the blood orb he brought to his lips, and when he looked up again, his eyes were filled with a horrifying crimson.

Bloodthirsty…

Open!

Though it wasn’t midnight and he couldn’t summon the more brutal Dark Night Claw, given the fight had progressed to this point, there wasn’t much left to watch.

When Murphy released the remaining 9 seconds of celestial acceleration, the Silver Elite Warlord was left with only one arm, followed by another 9 seconds of Star Realm deceleration.

Just as the effect ended, Necessary Evil cheered while plunging into the fallen general’s heart, starting to voraciously devour the Blood of Power.

Murphy still maintained the dignity of a pauper.

He unfurled his wings to land gracefully, elegantly extended his hand to extract the blood essence of the general, and politely wiped his mouth with a handkerchief after savoring it.

It’s all about a sense of elegance, which he has strived hard to maintain as his persona.

A few minutes later, George, covered in blood, bit down on a Wolf Throne Heart and placed it at Murphy’s feet, as if inviting Murphy to taste the “wild delicacy” rare in the Dark Mountain Range.

But Murphy curled his lips, waved his hand, and said:

“Take it back to your she-wolf concubines to enjoy, let them eat to grow strong, so they can give you a litter after spring ends.

I’m counting on your children to become ‘rare elites’ of Transylvania.”

“Bang”

Another plump heart was thrown from the sky, landing squarely on George’s head.

Reveno, meanwhile, folded his wings and landed on Murphy’s raised left arm.

The spirit hawk elegantly groomed its semi-transparent feathers with its sharp beak, seeming disdainful of playing with a “country bumpkin” like George.

That conceited posture mirrored Murphy’s show-off moment just now; truly, people raise birds in their own image.

“Let’s go, find another victim.”

Murphy waved a hand to let his pet take off to find a target, bending down himself to pick up the loot from these Jackalmen; after all, nobody can look good 24/7, even someone as handsome as Murphy looks down-to-earth when stooping to gather equipment.

But soon, Reveno brought a “guest.”

With a sharp screech, a handsome yet elegant Crimson Falcon, chased by the spirit hawk, descended precisely onto Murphy’s shoulder.

This little bird was smart, and its flamboyant owner had provided an exquisitely crafted set of crimson armor for it, complete with sharp fine gold claws, making it as splendid as a hawk knight on a campaign.

Just by its appearance, one could tell who reared this bird.

As the saying goes, people raise birds in their own image!

Murphy curled his lips and reached out to extract some blood essence from a nearby corpse to feed this vampire-transformed falcon, and then took the drop-shaped Blood Crystal Stone hanging from its neck.

Injecting spiritual energy while holding it, a bust image of Rose Knight Palano appeared before him.

“Murphy, the Wise Wolf has reached the valley of the Pestilence Clan, but there’s been a slight change.

You may need to come in person.”

“Hmm?”

Murphy frowned, bewilderedly saying:

“Can’t Hog’s wisdom handle a clan without a leader?”

“It can handle it, it showed me several plans that convinced me.”

Palano whispered:

“But the Pestilence Clan is in trouble; the Split Claw Clan is ‘recruiting’ them, and Dusk is suspected to be involved.

Alright, that’s the polite way to put it, Hog has a new idea.

It now needs to meet with you to refine the subsequent strategy.

We’re currently not too far from Blackflame Mountain Pass, but where the Wise Wolf needs to go next will take us deep into the Dark Mountain Range.

This might be our last meeting for a while.

Additionally, the King of Bone Biting suggested we take a detour to the territory of the Broken Tooth Clan.

Hog is somewhat uncertain; it says it requires higher wisdom to assist.”

“Emmmm, it seems most of the Wise Wolf’s wisdom blessing is spent on flattery, I truly worry for the future of the Jackal People.

I’ll arrive there by tomorrow night; don’t rush into action.”