Chapter 51: Chapter 51: Lure, Assault, Prey
Lear took a deep breath, turned to look at the army beside him, and spoke in a low tone.
"The divine spirit of the Half-Fishman priest has awakened."
"The enemy we face this ti is... a god!"
This statent caused the Wetland Lizardman Warriors to fall silent abruptly.
A god... awakening?!
No matter how brutal, all life harbors a deep-seated reverence for the divine spirit.
For that is the sovereign of this world, an unparalleled existence above all beings.
But in an instant, these warriors regained their composure, their amber eyes firmly fixed on Lear.
Awaiting orders from their sovereign.
What of a god?!
As long as the sovereign commands, they dare to draw their blades!
The will of the sovereign is above all!
Feeling the change in the gazes of the Wetland Lizardman Warriors, Lear felt sowhat gratified.
This is inherent in their race; if it were the cowardly Mud Swamp People, their loyalty might not waver, but they would still cower and retreat in the face of a divine spirit.
The degree to which they could muster combat power would depend on luck.
Lear scanned the surroundings, his voice carrying a hint of madness.
"I have the ans to slay the Half-Fishman God; today, I lead you—to slay a god!"
The calm tone was like a mountain collapsing into the sea, stirring massive waves.
All the warriors’ eyes instantly blazed with fervor, their hearts surged with emotion!
God slaying!
These two words, filled with taboo, also carried endless allure.
Even in various myths and legends, god slaying is regarded as the bravest feat and ultimate taboo.
Lear, seeing the warriors’ surging montum, suddenly waved his hand.
"Move!"
The army imdiately followed him.
Guided by two bewildered Half-Fishn, they quickly approached the Half-Fishman gathering site.
In just over half an hour, they traversed a few kiloters.
The Half-Fishman gathering site was amidst towering grasses, requiring outsiders to first pass through the grass to enter.
The army halted in silence, everyone waiting for his command.
Though only a hundred ters in a straight line, Lear did not act rashly.
He turned to look at the Bubble Beast.
"Bubble, take Haggs with a bubble and ascend to observe the Half-Fishn ahead."
Bubble’s eyes imdiately lit up.
Working for the master gave these little ones a sense of fulfillnt in being needed by their patron.
He promptly patted his chest in agreent.
The mouth opened slightly, and with a "bo~" sound, a bubble was gently exhaled.
The bubble gradually enlarged, floated upwards, and engulfed the Wetland Lizardman Hero in front.
The next mont, the bubble began to float like a helium balloon.
Haggs felt each side, intrigued by the rubber-like texture.
Looking down at the gradually diminishing ground, his face paled a little.
Flying too high didn’t seem to be a good thing...
When the bubble ascended over ten ters, the view suddenly widened, and Haggs carefully observed the situation behind the grass.
A mont later, he waved to indicate to the Bubble Beast, and the bubble descended again.
Haggs passed through the bubble to stand before Lear, his amber eyes filled with grave intent.
"Sovereign, those Half-Fishn are performing a sacrificial ritual around a skeleton altar..."
His tone carried a subtle nuance.
"Smoke encircles the altar, and those Half-Fishn have fallen into a state of madness."
Lear raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Madness? What do you an?"
"Every ti the Half-Fishn perform a ritual, they like to ignite Mist Grass, dispersing their consciousness, entering a state of madness."
"It is said that this allows them to receive the guidance of the Half-Fishman God."
Mist Grass?
Lear imdiately thought of the Foul Giant Demon...this thing also seed quite suitable for an ambush.
"How many are there?"
"Over six hundred!"
Haggs’ tone turned fervent.
"Sovereign, my steel saber thirsts for blood, please give the order!!"
No matter who the enemy is, he shall beco the war saber of the sovereign, cutting through all obstacles!
Just as the oath he made when the sovereign bestowed him with Heroic Power in Lorand City!
Lear narrowed his eyes slightly.
He could deal with the Half-Fishman God, but the number of Wetland Lizardn was too small.
Facing 15 squadrons against 6 Half-Fishman squadrons, outnumbered several tis, plus the opposition has a level 10 hero in charge.
It’s unnecessary.
It’s not like there’s no other choice.
He turned to the Swamp Boggart beside him...
Woo~ woo~ woo~
In the Half-Fishman gathering site within the grass, these slick and foul-slling beings surrounded the altar made of white bones, chanting madly.
Continuously making woo-woo excited sounds.
All around the ground, large bundles of Mist Grass were set on fire, the smoke dispersing with the wind.
Slling the dense smoke, the Half-Fishn would beco even more frenzied, maintaining a state of madness.
Because their great father god—the Half-Fishman God—held sway over madness, dampness, and the authority of Half-Fishn.
The Sovereign most enjoys when the followers, in their madness, offer sacrifices to him.
What drove them mad was—the sleeping god has returned!
During a ritual last month, they received a divine prophecy!
The great being personally ordered them to conduct a ritual every other day.
The god will lead the Half-Fishn back to greatness!
Praise the Father God!
Amidst the frenzy of the rituals, the Half-Fishn on the outer circle vaguely heard a series of lodious songs, bringing a hint of daze in their eyes.
They seed to hear the god’s calling!
No one else should enjoy the god’s grace!
This thought suddenly erged in their minds, and murmuring to themselves, they slowly withdrew from the frenzied crowd circling the altar.
They disappeared into the grass behind them.
The Half-Fishn were still in their madness, and the loss of these twenty or thirty individuals didn’t attract the attention of others.
A lodious and gentle song sounded again, and the second wave of Half-Fishn exited silently.
They disappeared beyond the smoke-shrouded altar.
Again and again... unknowingly, in the central area, the Half-Fishman Chieftain hosting the whole event suddenly realized that the sound seed to have weakened significantly.
Waking up slightly from his trance, he turned around and suddenly discovered that about half of the crowd was gone...
He suddenly woke up with a start.
"Where is everyone?!"
"Where are our people?!"
How the hell did half of them disappear mysteriously?!
The Half-Fishn still in their madness ignored his scolding, still chanting and circling around the altar.
The Half-Fishman Chieftain was furious; these idiots!
Suddenly, a lodious song slowly ca to his ears... The Half-Fishman Chieftain’s eyes flashed a hint of daze, instinctively moving away from the altar, walking outwards.
But just as he reached the edge, about to step into the grass.
A sense of terror rose in his heart.
Suddenly waking up.
Turning his head, he found he was already far from the altar, and the scattered tribesn were even clearer.
A chill ran down his spine!
"Enemy attack!"
A hysterical roar echoed.
In the next second, a more terrifying sense of danger surged in his heart.
Suddenly, the mud on the ground swelled high, then erged at his feet; he keenly saw bubbles expanding.
His pupils shrank violently.
Before he could react, he saw those expanding bubbles suddenly bursting.
The Half-Fishman Chieftain’s heart was gripped with fear.
The burgeoning magic energy suddenly erupted.
Bang~ A terrifying shockwave directly engulfed the surroundings.
The earth was flung a hundred ters high, splattering everywhere, even creating a giant crater seven or eight ters deep at the spot.
But what sent shivers down the spine was, after the dense dust and mud water dispersed, the Half-Fishman Chieftain surprisingly was not dead.
Large patches of blood seeped from his body, covered in muck and filthy water.
His face was half-blown apart, looking extrely miserable.
But before he could react, a blurry figure appeared in his vision—a Heavy Armor Warrior wielding a steel saber, with brutal eyes and a fierce lizard head.
The opponent’s war saber slashed through the air like lightning.
"No!"
In terror, the Half-Fishman Chieftain raised his ritual bone staff, already broken in half, trying to block, but the fragile bone staff shattered instantly upon contact with the steel saber.
A flash of cold light passed in his eyes; he felt his neck go cold, and intense pain followed.
The world spun wildly, his final sight being of a group of Heavy Armor Lizardman Warriors parting the grass...
Splat~
A massive head soared into the sky, blood splattering ters high.
Only the broken, headless body lay in the mire.
The level 10 Half-Fishman Chieftain had no opportunity to react from beginning to end.
He was executed on the spot.
Precision detonations!
The Half-Fishn, still in their madness, finally awoke, turning their heads to see the Wetland Lizardman Warriors continuously erging from the grass, and went mad imdiately!
These damned bastards, they are committing sacrilege!!
Damned, damned!!
"Kill!"
The Half-Fishn roared as they charged!
But at this mont, the Half-Fishman Chieftain who had his head severed, his broken body suddenly swelled, like a balloon filled to the extre.
Bang~
Suddenly exploded.
The sky was filled with floating blood.
What was shocking was, the blood seed to be guided by sothing, suspended in mid-air, and in a breath rushed towards the Half-Fishn.
All infused into the bodies of the Half-Fishn.
The level 5 Half-Fishn’s aura climbed at an exaggerated speed, soaring to level 9 in the blink of an eye!!
In the rear, Lear’s pupils shrank violently.
His gaze turned to the White Bone Altar behind the Half-Fishn...
He felt a familiar presence.
Divine Spirit!!
The Half-Fishman God... has appeared.
His eyes lit up with an almost frenzied excitent.
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