Chapter 65 - 25: [Rotting Soil Roarers]

Chapter 65: Chapter 25: [Rotting Soil Roarers]

The blood-red twilight of dusk shrouded the Kana Plain. Three covered wagons, fully loaded with grain, traveled along the desolate road.

Demon King Valak’s Underground City was located to the northwest of Luojie City, accessible via a wasteland littered with jagged rocks.

Massive white stones stood tall, large enough to conceal seven or eight figures. They were scattered like a maze across the yellowish-brown dust and loose soil.

"Hey, Norman." A lazy female voice echoed from the front of the wagon caravan. "Norman? Mr. Norman!"

A certain someone completely ignored the incessant shouting.

"Norman~ Mr. Norman... Norman Passat!" the young girl draped in a dark cyan mage robe shouted, her voice carrying a slight accent of the Floren Kingdom.

The elegant man in the blue robe acted as if he were deaf, quietly driving the carriage.

"Captain Passat," the girl called out weakly.

"What is it?" the Wind Sword, Norman Passat, replied.

"Transporting grain is so boring. Why do I have to tag along?" The girl wailed, kicking her legs wildly as she lay on a pile of grain sacks inside the wagon. "I wanted to stay at the Underground City camp! The materials there are very important to me, you know?"

"Because you are a genius Mage with extremely strong Spiritual Power and an immense mana capacity. You can use Identification Magic thousands of times in a single day and still remain invigorated," Norman replied. "We can’t do without you."

"So I, an outstanding graduate from Lunos Academy in the Floren Royal Capital, a genius level-eight Mage certified by the Silver Star Badge, am just here to be a human identification tool, is that it?" The girl slumped indignantly onto the pile of grain sacks in the wagon. "Listen to what you’re saying! I haven’t done anything all day except scan hundreds of bags of grain! You know Identification Magic too, so go scan them yourself!"

"This is important, Julian," Norman murmured. "Identification Magic is very important. People always overlook its value—information is power. If possible, I’d use Identification Magic non-stop during combat."

"Here we go again." The Little Mage pouted. "Boring."

She reached out her hand toward the roof of the wagon. She wore fleece-lined leather gloves adorned with copper rivets and iron-armored joints on both hands. Embedded in the palms of the gloves were massive, intricate, and meticulously crafted Rune Stone discs, densely packed with seven or eight grooves and stone dials.

The fingertips of the gauntlets were shaped like steel claws, capable of manipulating the increments on the edge of the Wheel for high-precision operations of advanced Magic Arrays.

"There’s no need to find it boring. If I’m not mistaken, the grain transport convoy will soon encounter something interesting," Norman replied calmly.

"Why is that, Mr. Passat?" asked a male Alchemist in the same wagon.

"The mold in the camp’s granary this morning was contamination brought in by the newly delivered grain," Norman replied. "At the center of the mold’s spread, those bags of grain all had tear marks from a Magical Beast’s claws, but they had simply been patched up by the transporters—it was mold planted by Demon King Valak’s subordinates who intercepted the wagons midway. He actually still has the leeway to do this under such an offensive.

"It’s almost time. They should be coming soon." He gazed at the sun gradually disappearing below the horizon. "I chose to transport the goods at sunset to draw out Valak’s subordinates. Killing them will also weaken Demon King Valak’s forces."

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The moment the sunlight completely vanished, a resounding metallic clanging echoed from near the distant rock piles!

CLACK, CLACK! Accompanied by the uniform sound of marching footsteps, a row of Skeleton Shield Guards abruptly stood up from the dust clouds on the horizon. Long spears thrust out from the gaps between their shields, pointing directly at the convoy as they closed in!

"Do you hear that? How interesting, their commander is beating a drum." Norman smiled, raising his hand to grip the hilt of his sword on his back. "Ignore those foot soldiers; intercept and kill the commander!"

"What about the grain wagons?" the Alchemist cried out in alarm. "Everyone at the frontline camp is still waiting for the grain!"

"These low-level Undead Soldiers on the surface are far inferior to the creatures in the Underground City. At most, they’ll destroy or snatch away four or five bags, or plant mold in seven or eight bags of grain," Norman Passat said, drawing the fine steel longsword from his back. "The magical energy on the surface is thin, and the mold needs time to spread. Now that we know their methods, it doesn’t matter if the mold is planted. Before it can spread, we’ll just run another round of Identification Magic and throw away the contaminated bags!

"What we need to worry about is the commander itself. A high-level entity of the Demon Race might use some devastating means to destroy all the grain.

"Therefore—intercept and kill the commander immediately! Without their commander, the soldiers will automatically rout!"

With a charging slash, the Rune Stone on his sword hilt flashed with a blue light. He unleashed a biting sword wind, and a cyan-blue shockwave erupted from the blade, slicing completely through a string of Skeleton Shield Guards ahead!

"The sound is coming from this direction! Dorian, follow me! Zovin, fire a flare and prepare for ranged output. Julian, ready your Identification Magic and broadcast the commander’s race, status, and position!

"Manis, you and Zovin guard the wagons. Other Undead and Magical Beasts may appear later. If you spot any suspected individuals of the Demon Race, immediately fire a whistling arrow into the air to warn us! Don’t worry too much; we’ll dispose of the commander right away!"

The Hunter and the Assassin received their orders. The Assassin charged after Norman, while the Hunter set up a massive hunting bow and a thick, heavy arrow in place. The Alchemist quickly began mixing a makeshift flare and an unstable fire oil Magic Potion.

The Little Mage laughed out loud and clenched her right gauntlet into a fist. Two cyan feathers slipped out of the Catalyst pouch on her wrist, and her fingertips rapidly spun the Rune Stone Wheel. The supports within her custom-made mage robe opened up like umbrella ribs. Riding a gust of dark cyan airflow, she glided swiftly toward the source of the clanging sound!