Chapter 78

In the thick fog, the two men stood ten meters apart, but the atmosphere was completely different from the previous chase and kill.

Rodi smiled as he looked at Salota, as relaxed as if he were meeting an old friend in a café on a lazy afternoon. However, Salota's expression was like that of someone with facial nerve inflammation, his mouth twitching as he stared at the human before him, unable to speak.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Rodi, a scout of the Lucifer family in the Kingdom of Karen. Yes—I'm also a captain, roughly the same rank as that guy Kosa under you."

"You—"

"I know you have many questions, but I'm afraid I don't have the time to explain them all to you."

Salota noticed that Rodi's gaze seemed to glance at the top of his head. He looked up in confusion but saw nothing. When he turned his gaze back, he heard this person slightly tilt his head, as if inviting a dance partner to the stage at a dinner party, and smiled, saying, "Well, time's up."

A puzzled expression appeared on Salota's face, but before he could speak, he suddenly felt the scenery before him blur. His body experienced a strange sensation as if his senses were being stripped away, as if he were about to float up... But then he found himself uncontrollably watching the ground get closer and closer until he fell to his knees with a "thud"...

He heard the human named Rodi say something in Brinjara, a language he had studied, and vaguely recalled that it meant "upgrade," but he couldn't even move his face.

"Lost consciousness? Well, that's better than having your head cut off." Rodi no longer seemed to fear Salota's retaliation. He took a few steps forward, stood in front of him, bent down, and placed his hand on Salota's shoulder, speaking in a sorrowful tone, "Do you hate me? You should. You see... so many of you came after me this morning, and we scouts were very afraid, especially me. I'm the most cowardly, the most afraid of death—this morning I almost got caught and killed in a net, which was really scary."

Salota tried to open his eyes wide to look at this demon-like man, but he could only weakly flutter his eyelids.

"You have courage, strategy, and a pretty stupid boss. In the future, you will surely think of plotting against the human kingdom, so... I, this coward, decided to take the risk and lure you here to solve the problem—hey, you're dead, what's the Hammer of Rohar worth?"

Supporting Salota's body, Rodi very kindly straightened the shaman, who was gradually losing consciousness, so that his eyes could look at him, and continued to ramble on—

"I have a bad habit, I always seek revenge... Do you understand? If I can, I won't let it go overnight. I was very careful here, but you wouldn't let me rest easy, so I had no choice."

As his consciousness gradually faded, Salota clearly sensed "death," but even at this moment, he still didn't understand why he was fine one moment and facing death the next...

"Not dead yet? Looks like my timing wasn't quite right. It should be just a few seconds, but I'll tell you anyway—see the fog around you? That crocodile turtle looks intimidating, but it's actually quite easy to kill, right? But many people who tried to kill it died, because..."

"This fog is poisonous."

"Every five seconds, you lose 1% of your health. Even if you have more health than Rohar, you'll die after five hundred seconds."

"Surprised? Confused? Ha, do you think I would risk my life to drag you down with me?"

Rodi smiled and patted Salota's shoulder. The latter's stunned expression had already frozen, and he slumped to the side with the light pat...

And in the air, the words he would never hear echoed—

"I have two lives, you can't afford to hurt me."

...

Waiting in the silent Death Swamp was a torment for anyone.

The strange and terrifying creatures below the water holes made the scouts dare not move around freely, not even to urinate far away. The deaths of those orcs left an indelible shadow, so even sitting a few meters away from the water holes on the grass, they still stared nervously at the calm surface, as if a terrifying monster might jump out at any moment.

The atmosphere here was more oppressive than a cemetery, lacking the usual vitality of the Neshemiah Grasslands. There were no birds in the sky, and even the insect sounds were rare. Occasionally, a few scouts would exchange a few words, but they would deliberately lower their voices.

"Have you been in battle?"

"Some battles on the southern border, but not against orcs."

"Always feels... different. These orcs can make you feel fear, even if there's just one, we always have to overcome the fear in our hearts..."

"Have you fought them before?"

"A few months ago—"

"No, I mean earlier."

"Earlier... about fifteen years ago, or sixteen, I don't like to remember. In any case, my comrades all died, I was the only one who survived—the enemy didn't even have a single injury, but we were almost all wiped out..."

Rugger and Soderlor were chatting. In the previous battle, apart from Rodi, they both performed well, so they got along well—this is how it works in the army, the skilled form their own circle.

"Sorry to bring up that memory, but now... perhaps you can give those old comrades an answer."

Soderlor sat there with his longsword, thick rain clouds passing overhead, occasionally dropping a few raindrops, but no heavy rain followed.

"Answer... yes, answer." Rugger seemed to recall something, his weathered face showing a hint of sorrow, but he remained silent.

As time passed, when the sunset gradually sank into the distant horizon and the sky turned deep blue, the scouts finally noticed a dark figure walking towards them from a distance.

Step by step, carefully stepping over the water holes, carrying a pile of unknown items on his shoulder, a bag on his back, and a strange white-brown object under his arm—Rodi walked step by step, his pace as relaxed and carefree as before.

From a distance, it felt like seeing farmers returning from the fields in Noland Village before dark, carrying their harvest, swaying and humming a tune, relaxed and carefree...

This scene initially relieved the scouts, but as they stood up and waited for Rodi to walk closer, a delayed shock, like a thunderclap after lightning, suddenly emerged...

They all remembered who had followed Rodi: nine genuine wolf riders and a shaman! Although "shaman" was mysterious to them, such a character was undoubtedly much stronger than a "mage."

With such a lineup, including nine ferocious wolf riders, Rodi still returned alive, so the fate of the enemies... was self-evident.

Thinking about everything this thirty-man team had done over the past few days, the soldiers' suppressed joy, due to the oppressive environment, burst forth from their hearts with Rodi's safe return—strong pride, honor, confidence, and cohesion, these intangible things, after experiencing the fires of war, became tangible.

Carrying a mess of war trophies, in the dim light, Rodi saw Soderlor standing straight as a pine, waving at him.

The scouts stood in place, one by one rising from the grass, their eyes no longer filled with the previous unease, but with the strong confidence forged by the fires of war.

In the distance, Rugger was helping the excited young men stand up, a trust that needed no words, different from before.

Seeing this... from the morning when he fell into a state of calm and madness, Rodi finally showed a smile.

History, after all, had been changed.

Thinking about these things, when he reached the team, he was slightly stunned—because he saw the scouts, without orders, spontaneously stand at attention and salute him with the most formal military salute of the kingdom.

At this moment, all words seemed superfluous. Rodi looked at the faces full of fighting spirit and confidence, and his open mouth finally turned into a salute—something seemed to boil in the soldiers' chests, though they appeared calm, the feeling... was like a fire burning in their hearts, determined to maintain a certain feeling and intention for a long time...

As night fell, the team, which had chosen to rest in the swamp, finally quieted down.

The temporary camp had no fire, as the swamp provided almost no combustible material, and the complex water holes hid dangerous water monsters. So, under Rodi's orders, the soldiers chose to huddle together and sleep in their clothes.

Soderlor, Carter, Rugger, and Rodi were on watch. Although they knew there was no danger here, Rodi still took his duty seriously, taking the first watch—of course, what he did more was to review his gains from this battle.

To be honest, this battle seemed easy, but there were many unexpected events—like Salota's strength being much stronger than he imagined, so he never expected the other to kill that tough crocodile turtle in less than two minutes. If he hadn't used a "empty city" strategy, discarding his weapons and chatting to delay time, he might have been killed without a word...

"Phew—"

Thinking about these things now didn't help much. He sighed, his mood gradually calming down. He took out the purple voodoo puppet, summoned the attribute interface, and frowned at the data displayed:

"Ancient Voodoo Puppet"

Class-specific: Shaman

Level requirement: Level 10

Usage: Imprison the target within the voodoo puppet, lasting up to two minutes.

Consumption: One mana point per second, doubling every three seconds after ten seconds.

Usage count: 1/10

"This is an ancient item, the worn marks on it prove that it has witnessed the rise and fall of the orcs."

This item was of very high level, an "epic" purple item. Of course, "epic" was just a term, far from truly "epic." In theory, such items were extremely rare in the early game, but it ended up in Rodi's hands by a series of coincidences.

Unfortunately, it was just a chicken rib.