456.Chapter 454 453 Poor Hogg, Ruling a Bunch of Crippled Bitches

Chapter 454 453.Poor Hogg, what’s the point of ruling a bunch of crippled bitches? -[add 2025]

(Plus more for brother “Who else is going to rob me” [5/5])
“Your Excellency Torn Flesh, our outer defense line has lost six posts in the past few days, the vampires that are breaking through from the western direction are attacking fiercely, and they are also supported by the Goldfinch Kingdom’s army!

Our necromancers have lost several, and that’s just the Transylvanians’ movements on one front, according to the information sent back by Hogg, they’ve placed men on all three fronts.

They’re already preparing to strike!”

In the Warlock Tower of Plague Town, a gloomy Plague Warlock was reporting the situation on the battle fronts to His Excellency Torn Flesh, and under the cover of the obscure hood, the gloomy jackal’s furry face was written with displeasure.

It looked at the Warlock who was mixing some kind of alchemical solution in front of the alchemy table in the characteristic “slow motion” of an old man, and did not say a word about the development of the situation, and it said:

“We should take action and respond to the Transylvanians’ unreasonable attack with a fierce counterattack, instead of being passive like this, this is really a disgrace to our Jackals!”

“We are Jackals, we have no face, that is something only humans have, and humans are our enemies . I applaud your ability to learn, my servant. But why can’t you learn something good from humans?”

Amidst the clatter of bottles and jars, Torn Flesh continued his alchemical concoctions without delay.

It didn’t seem to take its subordinate’s worries and dissatisfaction seriously at all.

It picked up a test tube containing a purple solution and raised it in front of its eyes, it could only put it closer to look at it because of its not-so-good eyes, and after confirming that the taste and color of this stuff was correct, Torn Meat shook the test tube with a specific frequency while saying slowly and methodically:
“Just some pioneers, just some soldiers, just the beginning of an attack that didn’t even manage to break through our outermost defenses, and you guys are acting as panicked as if the humans had already fought their way into the mossy valley.

The current ratio of forces between the two sides, both in terms of quality and quantity, is in our favor!
I can’t understand where your concern stems from, just as I can’t understand how you haven’t realized the truly urgent task of the Plague Clan until now.

The humans and vampires of Transylvania have never been our problem, and when the Black Plague army sweeps here, the rebels will naturally get the war of destruction they want to see, but we are not the initiators of the war.

We came to this swamp only for a noble purpose, and we are now only one step away from acquiring it!
So, how is the armament of the Tectonic Tower progressing?”

In the face of Torn Flesh’s inquiry, the Jackal Warlock who had come to report lowered his head, and although Torn Flesh’s tone was flat, it had already sensed the dissatisfaction that was building up in the heart of his increasingly temperamental clan leader.

It didn’t dare to continue to play on this matter, and answered along with Torn Flesh’s question:

“As of early this morning, the Giant Zombies used for the raid already have three coalitions totaling fifteen hundred, and the number of Demon Heart Spiteful Spirits has also exceeded eight hundred.

Crippled Claw said that it still needs a little more time to finish making the last batch of Underworld Knights, but even if we don’t count the ones that are still in the process of being transformed, we currently have eighty-seven Underworld Knights that can perform raids in the swamps and necromancers that are in charge of holding them back, and the energy-storing weapons that are prepared for them have been made as well.

As you instructed earlier, all of the warlocks in the Plague Clan have been prepared to unleash large-scale war spells, and I feel that these are already enough for us to complete our raid and occupation of the forbidden area of the swamp.”

“Enough? Folly! It seems you still don’t have a proper understanding of the concept of ‘legendary creatures’.”

Torn Flesh chortled:
“We’re going up against a creature that is immune to the effects of psychic energy up to the third ring by its skin alone; mediocre psychic weapons can’t even leave scratches on their jeweled scales, and even special stored energy weapons require multiple attacks to make them bleed.

And their close connection to the swamp makes us invisible once we step into their territory, and no tactical arrangement can escape their senses.

We can’t even target them with prophecy-based spells, and they can travel through the muddy water at will without having their speed affected by any control-based spells.

The permanent magic armor spell you’re wearing won’t be much tougher than a piece of paper against the venom of a ninjenanka.

Even undead in psychic heavy armor will be melted to slag in front of that corrosive toxin in a matter of minutes, and a similar rain of venom they can spew thirty times in a row before going into exhaustion.

In front of creatures like that, even a Gold ranked powerhouse would have to be prepared for anything, and you need to pay attention to my wording, the quantitative words I use when describing them.

It is ‘they’!
Not it.

No one knew how many giant snakes lived in the forbidden land of the swamp!
Even at the most optimistic estimate, there would be at least a nest of legendary creatures waiting for us there.

Tell me, my apprentice, how many casualties are you prepared to pay to break through these giant snakes, and what methods do you plan to use to get rid of them once we have the secret treasure?
I would prefer to have an army of powerful clans at our disposal if I could, but the few clans in the Mossy Valley are all ratty fools!

They wish to recreate the glory and power of the King of Biting Bones, but they are unwilling to put in even the slightest bit of real action to do so.

Each of the governors thinks only of preserving their own power for others to consume, treating the sacred relics of ancient legends as ridiculous rumors, and they have no understanding of the power of the King of the Bone Bites to bring about the Black Plague that toppled the world.
As the humans began to arm their minions with cannons and muskets, they were still basking in the illusion of victory brought about by their pathetic superiority in numbers.

Rats!

Bunch of rats!”

Torn Meat became more and more agitated as he spoke.

At the end it turned into berating the Jackal clan governors for their inaction, like an angry and helpless old Jackal cynic, while its clueless apprentice could only stay there honestly, pretending that he was listening attentively, yet the apprentice didn’t care about that at all.

He is a jackal, thinking about politics and the general situation is not his field of expertise, rather than the stupidity of the governors and the victory or defeat of the black plague, he is more interested in the power of the “black plague” itself.

In fact, Torn Meat also knows that as he grows older, his own control over the clan has become more and more difficult.

These talented and resourceful juniors are longing to choke to death while eating breakfast or have a heart attack while going to the toilet every day, and they are eager to rise to the top to show the power they possess, but they completely ignore the fact that Torn Flesh had to go through such a difficult quest to get the power for the Plague Clan.

However, even knowing this, Torn Flesh was no longer able to suppress these evil thoughts.

He has reached the twilight of a jackal’s life, and cold time is robbing him of the little energy he has left and cruelly forbidding him to forget his own ambitions, forcing him to use even more brutal methods in order to control his clan.

Now, what Torn Flesh is most worried about is that after his death, his apprentices will still be able to control the territory and power that the Plague Clan has fought for more than thirty years to occupy.
These juniors are all ruthless and vicious, but their wisdom in leading and ruling is really lacking, only in terms of thinking and long-term planning, these jackal warlocks who have mastered psychic energy and other jackals do not seem to be very different.

The common jackal suffers from starvation, while its clan struggles with the maelstrom of power.

Looking at the young warlock in front of him, who was respectful on the surface but actually had no respect, the helplessness in Torn Flesh’s muddy eyes became more and more obvious.

This moment it felt very tired, his busy life actually failed to find a qualified, know how to use wisdom successor.
These guys were not even as good as that Transylvanian pariah!

That short jackal named Hogg.

When Torn Flesh first met him, he knew that Hogg was definitely a cunning person among the jackals that could not be found in a hundred years, and he even guessed that Hogg might not have played such an incompetent and innocent role in Plague Tooth’s death, but he really appreciated Hogg’s cunning and thus didn’t persuade himself to look into the matter deeply.

Pity.

Unfortunately, that bastard was not born in the dark mountain range, in Transylvania this hell of a bloodline doomed Hogg’s life will not be able to enter the jackal civilization’s high level, not to mention the command and rise of a clan.

“Get lost.”

Torn Flesh waved his hand with some disinterest and scolded his apprentice:
“Go inform Crippled Claw to speed up the making of the remaining thirteen Underworld Knights, and once the hundred knights have finished their repairs, we’ll step into the forbidden land of the swamp.

Be sure to end this before the Transylvanians break through the triple line of defense and approach the town of Plague, and we will return to the Dark Mountains with the remains of the King of Biting Bones and its secret stash, integrating the power of the Plague Clan into the collective of the Black Plague.

And we will return.

And then, you will be able to stop repressing yourselves and sow the power of destruction at your disposal over a land that is not ours, but for now, I need you to use your hearts.

I need you to make your final preparations to meet the legendary creatures.”

Its apprentice dared not retort and retreated honestly.

On the highest level of this Warlock Tower, with only Torn Flesh left, the old warlock meticulously finished the alchemical process in his hands, and placed the seven tubes of strangely colored solutions he had made into his personal psionic beastskin bag before returning to where it was resting.

But it did not sleep here, but once again picked up the pearl bracelet to contact the “source”, the reason why it did not immediately lead the clan into the forbidden land of the swamp also had the factor of waiting for “reinforcements”. This time the psychic communication took a long time, several minutes before the communication was connected, and it was not Lord Gen who responded to the flesh tearing, but another man’s voice.

Sunny, cheerful, and gentle, it was a voice that sounded like it shouldn’t belong to a cultist at all.

He said:

“I’m already on my way, I’ll be crossing Lake Thulpus into the swamp tomorrow night, are you that impatient?”

“I just want to make final confirmation.”

Torn Flesh replied with a tired voice:

“If you are the only one coming, what kind of help can you offer me on the battlefield against the legendary creatures? I can understand the power of the Dusk forces, but you are only a servant.”

“No one likes it when you say that, Lord Torn Flesh.”

The man on the other side said irritably:

“Not to mention that the key to something like power is in the user and not the power itself, I didn’t even intend to get involved in your fight against those difficult giant snakes, but I did bring you what you needed most.

It is impossible to eradicate the serpents in the filthy swamp, you cannot understand the close connection between this swamp and the serpents, in the rumors of the twilight, it is not the serpents that found the swamp, this swamp was born for the serpents.

This is their home!

You need to understand the meaning of the word ‘home’.

In the homeworld, they are hard to really hurt, so to get what is being guarded by them, you’ll have to find another way.

However, I know that such thinking is still too much for a jackal’s brain, so you don’t need to ask too many questions, and you’ll naturally know how we’ll be able to help you when I arrive.

However, I must relay to you an order from Lord Gen in advance!
After I help you obtain the secret stash of the King of Biting Bones, you are to leave your clan and your army behind, right in the middle of the swamp.

I will use them.”

“Hmm?”

Torn Flesh asked, narrowing its eyes as it savored the unspeakably ominous nature of the words:

“You’re going to use my people as expendable? What do you intend to do here?”

“Well, the new masters of Transylvania are eager to build a career, and Governor Murphy is desperate to sow his authority over the lands beyond this swamp. His activity and good fortune have grown him from a minor player who didn’t need to be noticed, to a disturbing element that needs to be eradicated.

Certain figures in the organization seem unwilling to see Lord Murphy live so well any longer.”

The man on the other side grunted and said:
“Thus it would be very appropriate to use the Filthy Swamp as a burial ground reserved for the Lord Governor, and since it is a great man who is about to be buried, we always have to prepare ‘burial goods’ for him that fit his status out of etiquette as well.

Will this make you feel uneasy? Your Excellency Torn Flesh, your concern for your apprentice and clan members shouldn’t have reached this point of protecting your children, right?

After all, it was only a portion of your clan’s power that entered the Tainted Swamp.

You still have more and younger clansmen waiting for your leadership in the Black Shadow Valley Den near Burning Peak, if you bury your bones in the swamp won’t you be cutting off your clan’s hope for the future?
Sacrificing a bunch of high-flying fools for a bright future for your clan is a good deal.”

“You don’t have to try to convince me, I will make my own decision.”

Torn Flesh didn’t give a definite answer.

It said:

“Better let us finish the task at hand before we do, this has dragged on for far too long.”

“Well, not seeing the rabbit before the hawk, a very pragmatic philosophy of doing things, I appreciate it.”

The person on the other side replied in a relaxed tone:

“That’s it then, we’ll continue our discussion in more detail after I arrive at your stronghold tomorrow night, please be prepared, I’m not someone who is willing to waste too much time on a job that doesn’t belong to me.

Let’s get the Legendary Creature and the King of Biting Bones’ secret stash taken care of as soon as possible, and then we’ll all go our separate ways…”

“I look forward to it.”

Torn Flesh returned coldly, stopping the communication spell on her pearl bracelet.

It rose shakily, and with a stomach full of thoughts walked to the edge of the warlock tower it was in, peering out the small window at the entirety of Plague Town.

It saw its apprentices busily preparing for battle in the town under its own orders.

One by one, they were going back and forth, working hard, but even Torn Flesh didn’t need to activate the Listen spell to guess the obscenities that were being exchanged between the mouths of these fellows as they cursed the old undead that stood at the top of the tower, the cowardly chieftain that no longer dared to face the enemy head on.

Rebellion is an attitude.

It was something so intangible that it didn’t even need to be discerned with the eyes.

Rebels have an aura that envelops them, that makes those they wish to rebel against feel clearly hostile, like a pack of cruel, hungry pups waiting to partake of the old alpha’s flesh and blood after it has breathed its last .
“You think power wins everything, it’s time to test your theories, my apprentices, you asked for it!”

Torn Flesh gripped the psionic bone staff in its hand as it hardened its resolve.

Since these warlocks weren’t the pillars it thought would hold up the future of the clan after its death, why not just leave them all in this swamp?

He still had some time to return to his own clan to pick and choose, to find a suitable successor.

The Plague Clan needed a more enlightened and wiser chief with a better view of the big picture.

It had to be better, more ambitious, and more cunning than himself in order to lead the clan in a time of great turmoil.

Whether or not the Fifth Black Plague will succeed in taking over the continent is still unknown, and it’s too soon and too reckless to put the clan’s entire fortune on the stupid governors of Moss Valley.

“Hogg…”

At this moment of making a difficult decision, Torn Flesh once again eerily remembered the skinny Transylvanian Jackal Chief.

Although the two were worlds apart in terms of power and status, Torn Flesh always couldn’t help but think freely that if Hogg had been a rooted Dark Mountain Jackal, if Hogg had been born into his own clan, then he wouldn’t have to have such a headache over his heir right now.

Hey, I wonder how that skinny guy is doing now?
Transylvanian vampires and humans have begun to march in the swamp on such a large scale, I think that with the pathetic power of Hogg’s tiny clan, I’m afraid that he has already been destroyed in the vampire’s swamp war offensive, right?

Unless, it surrendered to the vampires and miraculously gained their acceptance, however, in the context of the coming black plague, would that treacherous person really have such guts and such decisive courage?

Alas, what a pity for this heavenly gift of cunning, what a pity for this precious wisdom for the jackals.

(End of chapter)