Chapter 2271 - 846: Lansendel Loves Me

"You’re overthinking it." Snow Cloud Peak couldn’t help rolling his eyes. "If dying where we got wiped could make them come down, what fun would be left?"

"With their numbers, they think they deserve to go head-to-head with us?"

"Then how did the few of us get here?" Magic Sword was still confused, but he caught the key point. "Don’t tell me..."

"Heh~ Did you forget? We got slammed down onto the ice with no choice. All they need to do is drop that Array Plate into the water." Perfect Bald said, clearly annoyed. "The ice layer made by Magic isn’t gonna stay there forever.

Whatever was underneath, it’s already been packed up and taken away by now."

Magic Sword tilted his head. "I keep feeling like you’re bullshitting me, I just can’t find proof.

Forget it, doesn’t concern me anyway. I just need to follow along."

Snow Cloud Peak摸了摸口袋里地石子儿 again. "Baldy, is Elder still playing with them?"

"Liu Liu is watching." Perfect Bald sighed. "Later Elder’s definitely gonna put on a big show. Lying there covered in wounds on that filthy ground, listening to some ugly dude yap on and on for this long—if she hadn’t guessed there’s someone behind him, she’d have exploded ages ago."

"From the day Asmodeus set his sights on this world, it was doomed that only old scheming bastards could live well." Snow Cloud Peak curled his lip. "Josh-type people are really... On one hand, he can keep his cool. On the other hand, even if some mastermind locks onto him, they probably won’t make a move.

What old scheming bastards hate most isn’t idiots, it’s those who know everything but insist on going against you anyway—those chuunibyou big shots.

Lansendel’s biggest problem isn’t that he’s chuunibyou enough, it’s that he’s strong enough."

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For Lansendel, what Snow Cloud Peak said counted as praise.

Even though it sounded off somehow, Josh could actually accept it... One of the rare merits of his family was being honest enough.

They also sincerely accepted other people’s criticism and guidance, but would absolutely never change their minds easily, let alone their way of doing things.

Russell and Carpenter were a bit dumbfounded.

Kids who grew up in the rule-heavy world of Mages and Nobles, even if they’d already loosened their bottom line quite a bit, still didn’t have that much mental resilience.

Russell couldn’t help glancing at his teacher.

Their teacher could be pretty unreliable at times, but Russell and Carpenter themselves weren’t the type of kids who get bound so rigidly by rules they turn wooden, so they actually found it easy to accept Teacher Hill’s way of doing things.

But this powerful Divine Power who just took that whole speech as personal praise still made Russell waver a bit... Out there in the wider world, is this kind of powerhouse really the mainstream?

If you’re too straight-laced, does that mean it’ll be kind of hard to deal with the outside world in the future?

The young Junior Mage, already full of confusion, fell into deep thought.

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Old Age Striking King was genuinely pissed off.

She’d already figured it out: that hooked-nose guy on the other side, rather than venting years of resentment, was more like stalling for time.

And at the same time, he was showing off his "merits" to the hand behind the curtain, selling his misery... In this refugee camp, how many interests he’d sacrificed, how much dignity he’d thrown away, to build up his current forces.

Of course, there was another layer... The forces he’d worked so hard to build, the manpower he’d painstakingly developed, had all been wrecked just to present some poor sucker "whose abilities and physique are extremely suitable to become the vessel for their Magician Profession" to that mastermind. He hoped that big BOSS wouldn’t blame him for the losses, and would preferably even reward him for his "sacrifice and dedication."

Old Age Striking King摸了摸自己的口袋, a cold smile tugging at the corner of her mouth... She was going to see exactly who was the unlucky one.

But she also understood why Snow Cloud Peak had told her to wait until the very end to make a move.

No matter who that mastermind was... If it’s someone who lived through the Toril incidents, there’s no way they don’t know what the Undead Tribe naturally carry on their bodies.

If they don’t even want to provoke Josh, you think they’d dare provoke the Undead Tribe?

Of course, the reason she was making such a ruckus without worrying about being recognized was that her current appearance was completely different from the one she had in Toril.

But even if it were some other Undead Tribe member, if they had combat strength on her level, they’d definitely be carrying the BUFF of some powerful Divine Power.

Among the Deities connected to the Undead Tribe, the easiest one to talk to is Tyr... But does that help when you’re dealing with Evil Forces?

The Fist of Justice never retreats when it can win... And "can win" also includes going down together.

Tyr’s Just Knights have always taken "dying for nothing" as the minimum threshold for retreat.

So anyone with ties to the Toril side absolutely wouldn’t mess with the Undead Tribe.

Win or lose, it only ever leads to the worst possible outcome.

Just like over there, after the Undead Tribe arrived in this world, the Sia Tower basically started playing dead.

They even retracted all their feelers... This info came from their Task Puppet, probably something provided by Lansendel.

This hooked-nose ugly bastard was obviously a local, developed into a dumbass subordinate.

She didn’t know the exact difference between Mages and Magicians, but there was one thing she was very clear on... A Magician’s bloodline can be taken back by the apex of that bloodline.

So, smart people like Hill only treat being a Magician as their base Profession, but will definitely strive to walk the path of the Mage.

Of course, Hill absolutely wouldn’t.

But that’s because he’s a Divine Child, inherently possessing Divinity; even Coron and the World Tree can’t casually strip his bloodline away.

Mortals can’t do that.

Especially those idiots who got into the Magician class through shady, crooked ways.

They basically all have some kind of "seed" planted in them.

That guy behind the scenes only needs to pull those seeds out, and these people are pretty much all done for... plus, all the Energy of Flesh and Blood they’ve worked so hard to absorb over the years will be sucked dry in an instant by the seeds.

Mixing with the underworld—how could that ever end well?

Do they really think those underworld young masters in romance novels weren’t forcing people into prostitution, into dealing drugs?

The Old Age Striking King hates those trashy books the most. When she found out her own little sister not only read them, but genuinely believed that "mad for her, crazy for her, breaking the law and building prison walls for her" was beautiful love, she dragged that silly girl up and beat her for a month straight.

Heh~ if you want an idiot to wise up, you’re definitely going to need a solid smack on the head.

So why didn’t she just go straight for the beating?

What’s with waiting for "later"?

But idiots from other people’s families have nothing to do with her.

The Old Age Striking King couldn’t help shifting her posture... actually, if you took a careful look at her, you’d notice that although the Female Priest sat there with a totally disheartened face and slumped, depressed body, the exposed strands of hair and her fair, tender little hands hadn’t touched anything at all.

She looked half-collapsed on the ground, but she was always using her elbows to hold her upper body suspended in mid-air... and she’d carefully picked a relatively clean sofa leg to brace herself against.

Her stamina was more than enough, and her endurance wasn’t bad either, but staying in one position for so long was still a bit tiring for her.

But what annoyed the Old Age Striking King most wasn’t how hard this act was to pull off, it was: why is it that when other people act, even if the opponent standing in front of them is a Demon, it’s at least a Demon like Grazt’s caliber?

Yet she only gets a hook-nosed ugly bastard?

And his voice is sharp and floaty... honestly, it’s even more grating than that Double-headed Baboon Dimogogan’s roar.

Huh?

The Old Age Striking King couldn’t help taking a light breath, staring at the slowly emerging figure behind the hook-nosed man... what the hell is that?

Could it be she’s had some kind of Prophecy Talent unlocked too?

Is that head behind that guy... double-headed?

"You talk too much nonsense." The double-headed Shadow let out a deep male voice. "As long as I get what I want, I don’t care how many lives you burn through.

Anyway, whether you have the ability to oppose other Evil Forces is your own problem."

"Lord Dimodo!" The hook-nosed man hurriedly bowed forward... even though he knew full well that the other party had descended upon his own body. "Your words are my mission!

Please rest assured, I will definitely gather enough manpower again!

It’s just that... my... blood-meat flowers have already..."

"No problem." The so-called Dimodo let out a low chuckle. "On the banks of the Styx, blood-meat flowers have bloomed once more. Take as many as you like.

As long as you have what it takes."

The Old Age Striking King tilted her head in confusion... just how many leaks does that Styx have?

Then, neatly, she sprang up right as that Shadow was about to drift toward her.

"Heh heh~ I knew you still had some strength left." Dimodo laughed arrogantly twice. "Too bad, your power is utterly useless to me!"

"Who the hell wants to compare strength with a baboon!" The Old Age Striking King cursed, "A baboon with two heads is worth shit! You think you’re Dimogogan?"

"Oh? You know Dimogogan?" The voice of the double-headed Shadow was full of curiosity. "I may not be him, but... that doesn’t mean I’ll never be him!

You...

Ah~ even if you get the chance to see him, you won’t be the ’you’ you are now!"

The Old Age Striking King frowned slightly, her sleeve shifted a bit... although she’d been groping around in her pockets this whole time, the Emerald Scripture was actually tucked inside the tightened long leather sleeve.

All that earlier stuff had been her little tricks... and the hand she’d used to feel around in her pockets wasn’t even the same one.

Then, when that dark Shadow reached out a giant fist toward her, the Old Age Striking King suddenly raised the green holy book in her hand: "Hey~ Lansendel loves down on me~"

"Wha..." The double-headed Shadow only managed half a word before it was ignited by the endless golden Fire smashing down from above.

"Wow~ what a filthy thing." The Old Age Striking King popped up briskly and cleanly... Lansendel really did love her: while the Emerald Scripture was burning the entire little building and all the enemies inside to ashes, it also restored her to full strength.