The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?! Chapter 41 - 41 41 It's Time for the Assassin's Creed

41: Chapter 41: It’s Ti for the Assassin’s Creed 41: Chapter 41: It’s Ti for the Assassin’s Creed The campfire flickered, casting shadows that swayed like reeds.

The few gathered together deliberately spoke in hushed tones.

“Old Mand, those damned wanderers have dispersed, today little Pi caught one,” said the speaker, waving his hand, “Chop it!”

“You should know, we bear no grudge.”

Old Mand rolled his eyes, pretending not to understand the other’s point.

Those living on this land bore no grudge against one another; they were rely scavenging dogs fighting for scraps.

For when every encounter was a matter of life and death, in the instinct to survive, grievances felt petty.

Yet his companion was still smacking his lips, “I an the won they stole.”

Old Mand emphasized, “Those won are a burden.”

If those won were to fall into their hands again, they’d have no good fate.

Although falling into others’ hands wouldn’t fare better, as long as they didn’t suffer before his eyes…

that was the last of his conscience.

If the settlent had no food, won were burdens.

But if the settlent were strong, won beca the most precious ornants.

Moreover, his companions were already bewitched by “Lord Serene’s favor.”

“Of course, they were a burden before, but as long as we join Lord Serene, won who can bear children are treasures.

I heard that the lord of the Eastern New Nobility that Lord Serene serves is collecting children to train, each fetching a handso price.”

“The demands of Lord Serene, sigh,”

Old Mand heaved a sigh.

Since his gathering place had been breached by the wanderers, he and a few companions had embarked on a nomadic journey.

They were essentially wanderers in another guise.

Only they still had their bottom line.

…such as not eating their kin.

To complete Lord Serene’s mission and officially join Lord Serene’s forces might not be so simple.

“Crack—”

The sound of a snapping twig carried over, and Old Mand’s gaze moved past the campfire to the dead woods ahead.

It was all too stark, really hard to pretend it wasn’t heard.

Soone was approaching.

Not only did Old Mand notice, but the others did as well.

Old Mand gave a look, and his companions understood, continuing to pretend they hadn’t heard the other’s noise.

They too couldn’t discern who was coming.

Even though they were in a corner of the borderlands, the forces in the area were far from simple, even exceedingly complicated.

There were several groups Old Mand couldn’t afford to provoke.

“Thud,” footsteps.

The person must be wearing iron-studded boots and likely dressed in armor, making a lot of noise as they walked.

Could it be that the other party was so strong that they were marching straight over?

Old Mand’s face looked unwell.

Although they fancied their own strength as decent, they knew their own limits, and facing a true master, even just one, would leave them easily dispatched by the foe.

Others were the sa, swords slowly drawn from their sheaths, gleaming under the firelight.

The sounds of their chatter also involuntarily lowered.

Suddenly, Old Mand noticed sothing off; the other party hid behind a tree.

From Old Mand’s perspective, the other party was invisible, but the campfire’s light stretched the other’s shadow from behind the tree diagonally across the ground.

Crouching.

Approaching like a thief.

Could it be this person thought they were undetected?

It couldn’t be that farcical.

Old Mand’s expression grew odd.

It was dark now, and only the companions nearby could see changes in his expression, those farther away could only make out a blob of sticky black and a wavering red on his face.

“So you see!” Old Mand raised his voice, “So, against which power should we take action?”

The “quietly” approaching person halted their steps, seemingly straining to listen.

The explanation reveals they’re from a powerful faction nearby.

So, where are they from?

Prey Town, or the Wanderers?

Aside from these two places, I really can’t imagine a third powerful faction.

Conquering and subduing territories from west of Dragon Tooth Mountain to the east of Mist Cliffs, or rather, harassing and crushing them, is the proof of loyalty Lady Serene demands.

Understanding Old Mande’s looks, his companion imdiately said, “Shall we strike at Prey Town first?

But it’s a bit difficult, I know there’s a small settlent nearby with many people.”

“Hmm…” Old Mande’s grip on his sword tightened, he had actually lost interest in chatting.

He was rely stretching out his tone to appear thoughtful, while he had already used glances and hand gestures to give orders to his companion.

Next, it was ti to fight tooth and nail!

…

Loves White Silk was sneaking around.

After the experience of a failed stealth mission, he reflected deeply and, after several iterations in his mind and searching for special forces stealth techniques online, finally developed his stealth skills.

Upon seeing flas and hearing people speak, he imdiately entered stealth mode.

Although he stepped on twigs during the process, he wasn’t discovered, proving that his stealth technique was very successful.

Reassured, Loves White Silk slowly closed the distance.

He wouldn’t make the sa foolish mistakes again, no longer employing the idiotic thod of throwing stones to probe.

Now, it was ti for the assassin’s creed.

Stealthy approach, assassination, turn around and leave, without heaven or hell noticing, showing off suprely!

If possible, he would even intentionally leave one person alive for interrogation.

What they ntioned about Lady Serene was clearly a boss-level character, and both Prey Town and the Wanderers were definitely key plot information.

This is the thrill of opening up the map.

Loves White Silk drew closer and closer.

He raised his sword.

Ambush from behind, assassination!

Hehe, we players skip 5 in the count!

He pushed the sword forward, ensuring the motion wasn’t too big, to avoid making too much noise, and aiming for a one-hit kill.

Dammit, he missed.

Loves White Silk suddenly felt sothing was wrong, especially when a kick landed on his chest.

That subtle feeling surged up like a tide.

He wasn’t injured, just slightly shaken, and he retracted his right foot to stabilize himself from falling backward.

As the first Undead to encounter Lind, Loves White Silk had long realized that his body was strengthening as he leveled up.

This was normal; if players couldn’t resurrect indefinitely, if they couldn’t level up from combat, there would be no reason for them to be called the fourth calamity.

Both were indispensable.

His body’s defensive power was strong, and he was wearing a rare piece of quality Armor, so the damage inflicted upon him was trivial at best—as if he were rely pushed forcefully and staggered a bit.

What bothered him was that these wild monsters seed to have discovered him long ago, acting and waiting for him to approach.

“Damn, are the mobs in this ga all geniuses now?”

When he fought the wolves before, he was pumled by the Carrion King, but that was fine, the opponent was a beast.

Later, during a stealth mission to gather intelligence with the Black Tortoise Shield and two others, they encountered the Wanderers—every one of them understood combat, which tied their hands.

But that was fine too, because in the end, they won.

The skirmish with the Undead last night had surpassed his expectations; the four of them were brutally thrashed by low-level monsters and didn’t even stand a chance to touch the Carrion Queen, but that was still okay, because it was a cutscene, ant to show off Brother De’s muscles.

Now, his stealth was outsmarted by the monsters’ intelligence and acting skills, and it was upsetting.

This ga truly had it in for the players.

Every minor monster was made so powerful, being skilled in combat was one thing, but they also had brains!

Although he complained a lot in his mind, it was all in an instant.

The older-looking man drew his sword, stepped around the campfire, and charged toward Loves White Silk, his sword raised high for a downward slash using the New Year Sword Technique.

“Parry!”

Loves White Silk reacted swiftly.

He loved the parry chanic; based on his experience, all he had to do was raise his sword and slash the mont the opponent’s hand lifted, creating flinching, and then…

“Bang!” His sword was sent flying by a powerful blow from the New Year Sword Technique.

Loves White Silk’s eyes widened; the plot was a bit different from what he had imagined.

Why couldn’t he parry a monster’s downward slash?