The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?! Chapter 50 - 50 50 Another One Bites the Dust

50: Chapter 50: Another One Bites the Dust 50: Chapter 50: Another One Bites the Dust Lind listened to the young Renzo’s account and, likewise, Ace Aimu the Undead recorded this segnt as key plot information.

“Before the birth of the Ring of Magic, born from the primal flas,” Renzo held a clump of leaping blood-red flas in his hands, “was the Dianmi Overlord, a deity that the noble lord had once commanded to serve.”

He seed to want to explain more clearly, but it was very difficult.

“Who was that noble lord?” Lind asked curiously.

“I was young then,” Renzo withdrew his hand, “I only rember Goliath, the Bloodline Nobles…

with great power.”

“Under the radiance of the Ring of Magic, every noble with a surna possessed their own power,” Lind did not mind speaking of this secret, which was hardly secret at all; probably only the Undead knew nothing of it.

Ace Aimu felt surprised, yet found it reasonable.

If the nobles did not possess strong capabilities and uniqueness, how could they suppress those beneath them?

Breathtaking geniuses who desired powerful offspring ultimately had no choice but to join the nobles through marriage, for only a surna and bloodline could pass down such a blessing.

And after the shattering of the Ring of Magic, the New Nobility also rose, didn’t they?

In every era, “nobles” appointed by fate erge, the only difference being the chosen individuals, but for the vast majority of people, it actually made little difference.

“Continue,” he stroked the hilt of Broken Sword, pondering whether to trust Renzo.

The other party displayed enough humility, his etiquette clumsy but evidently, he had received court training; most importantly, Renzo controlled the flas.

If Renzo had intervened in the battle just now, Lind would have won in the end, only with great difficulty.

Renzo pressed his hands against his thighs, maintaining a kneeling posture: “We followed the noble lord’s orders, traveling to various parts of the world.

We joined the church of the Dianmi Overlord, we sacrificed ourselves, we devoted ourselves, years of infiltration left only remaining, but from beginning to end, I never heard the whispers of the Dianmi Overlord.

Those people just kept sacrificing, and sacrificing.”

“And then?” Lind glanced at Renzo, his gaze falling on the scar on his forehead, the burn scar made his already unattractive face even uglier.

He couldn’t help but frown.

“The Ring of Magic shattered,” Renzo said, “then, I heard the voice of the Dianmi Overlord.”

The course of events seed very dangerous, at least it would have been a riot.

The village area was indeed remote, with no roads, no rchants, no resources for survival, and beyond lay a mist.

Lind would probably not approach this area for decades, but who could have imagined that it would be hiding a group of Mad Wise Ones.

“…I was always waiting for Goliath’s noble.”

How much he suffered in the process, Lind could not know, but it must have been very difficult.

“I can take you back to Goliath,” Lind said, “when the ti cos.

In the anti, if you have nowhere else to go, you can work for .”

He admitted he was a noble, yet did not nod in acknowledgnt to the quest of seeking out the Dianmi.

A subordinate of Great Knight Level was indeed tempting, but considering the risk of exposure, the gains seed unimportant.

Moreover, with the Undead at his side, a BOSS-level subordinate was nothing special.

“I pledge my loyalty to you!” Renzo consented to this outco.

The re prospect of re-establishing contact with Goliath’s nobles filled him with imnse gratitude.

He had been too young, rembered little else, and clumsily followed the ceremonial rites from his mories to pay respect to the noble lord.

To him, Goliath was rely an obsession of his deceased elders.

Complete the noble’s task, return to Goliath.

As for which noble, the one present would do, any noble was fine, having a goal to pursue was enough.

Lind left Renzo to watch over the Mad Wise Ones village while Renzo dealt with the remaining Mad Wise Ones.

Insane villagers would not obey orders simply because of cognate flas, and likely the Dianmi Overlord standing here would fare no differently.

Renzo had no objections to this.

“My lord, aren’t we bringing him with us?”

Ace Aimu hurried a few steps to catch up with Lind.

In his eyes, Renzo was clearly an important plot NPC, so why not take him along?

“Food is of utmost importance,” Lind explained.

“I understand now!”

What do you understand?

What I an is, soone who loves to set fires and is very likely ntally unstable can’t be allowed in the house.

…

Star Dragon Ridge outpost.

Undead carrying stones staggered forward.

Upon reaching the designated areas.

“Thump!” The boulder smashed onto the ground.

Ahead, a small hill had already accumulated.

The number of Undead coming to build houses was increasing, and construction entered a period of rapid developnt.

A cantilever crane constructed from two upright dried timbers stood beside the stone house propped by three logs.

Pulleys, ropes.

Below, the Undead were pulling.

The stone transport, which normally exhausted countless slaves, had beco surprisingly easy.

The large grappling hooks could accurately catch each stone, using the wooden cantilever crane to lift the stones to the second floor.

“I think, after building the houses here, I can go straight to find a construction job!”

“Hey, don’t rush to fill in the rocks, we still need to pour cent!”

A group of people was bustling about.

The construction speed far exceeded the imaginations of the NPCs at Star Dragon Ridge; who would have thought that a few houses could be built in just one day?

Not only was the speed fast, but the buildings were also aesthetically pleasing.

It probably wouldn’t even take until the afternoon to reach the topping-off point.

“You can’t just top off; you have to wait for the cent on one level to dry completely before continuing.”

“This is the Magic World, and you’re talking physics to ?”

“Holy sh*t, who the hell just walked through the cent barefoot, leaving behind two footprints and a face imprint!

Do you think this is the Hollywood Walk of Fa!”

It was a bustling scene.

A rare mont of leisure.

Papermaking, building houses, repairing equipnt, patrolling, and even food processing and cooking were all proceeding in an orderly fashion.

The Undead were trying to help advance the technological tree quickly, and it seed that the progress was pleasing.

The NPCs of Star Dragon Ridge suddenly realized that they didn’t seem to have anything to do anymore.

“Is this what Lord ant before?” Old Pete clung to his soup spoon; he didn’t need the Undead to help him cook, food was of utmost importance.

“Um, Lord Old Pete,” a cute-looking girl approached: “Is there anything I can help with?”

Old Pete recognized her; she was probably called Romantic Bumbler, whom Lord had brought to have a al with last ti.

However, he found the girl dangerous, always swallowing her saliva when speaking, and her gaze never leaving his soup pot.

“Not at the mont!” Old Pete shook his head, then added, “Really, there’s nothing!”

She was not the first Undead to co over looking for tasks; these people seed to have limitless energy, eager to work and completely uncomplaining.

In the morning, there was even a scramble for tasks, where they not only didn’t ask for paynt but were also willing to pay out of their own pockets.

If it weren’t for Lord’s intervention, who knows what could have happened.

Romantic Bumbler: “Can I help you chop wood?”

Old Pete pointed towards the door: “Those Undead have already helped chop enough wood to burn until sumr, so much that I have to build a small storage to keep it in, lest it all gets wet when it rains.”

Romantic Bumbler’s eyes lit up: “Then I can help you build the storage!”

Old Pete pointed again: “They’ve already built a storage big enough to stockpile wood to burn until next Autumn.”

Romantic Bumbler: “Then I can help you chop wood, enough for next Autumn!”

Old Pete: “…”

Seeing that it was no use, Romantic Bumbler glanced at the boiling soup pot: “How about I help you taste the flavor?”

“Do you really want to find sothing to do?”

“Mhm!” Romantic Bumbler nodded vigorously.

“Here is a Flas Tongue herb; you have two days to grind it into powder,” Old Pete rembered the spices that Lind had bought last ti.

He had been too busy, and Lind forgot about it after giving it to Old Pete.

But Old Pete was afraid of being burnt to death by the spice, and with too much work on his hands, had not gotten around to it.

“Flas Tongue herb?

What is it used for?”

“Ground into powder, it can be used as a seasoning,” Old Pete said.

“But you must be careful not to touch too much of it, or it will burn you to death.”

“Burn to death?

Is that an adjective?” Romantic Bumbler looked at the Flas Tongue herb, her cravings kicking in.

“It’s literally deadly.”

By the ti Lind returned to Star Dragon Ridge, it was already evening, with torches lit.

Seeing the buildings that had sprung up in just one day, Lind had the strange feeling of having entered the wrong house.

“Ah!

Another one burnt to death!”

Lind was puzzled: “What’s going on?”

“Seems to be at Old Pete’s place,” the gatekeeping Soldier said: “A bunch of Undead suddenly wanted to help Old Pete grind Flas Tongue herb into powder and wouldn’t listen to reason; three have already been burnt to death.”

Lind: “…”

They never ceased to surpass his expectations.

When he reached where the Undead were gathered, he heard them plotting loudly.

“Flas Tongue powder is so useful, damn, it’s a ranged attack weapon!”

“Where can we buy it?

Lord must be selling it.”

Facing the Undead who had all turned their heads to look at him, Lind coughed.

This is for eating, not…

wait, hold on!

At this stage, although there were Undead interested in farming, they only made up a ager one-sixtieth of the sixty, so it was important to also stir up interest in farming among the Undead.

“Flas Tongue herb is in short supply,” Lind said.

“But I can sell you seeds of the Flas Tongue herb…

So, my Undead…”

“Do you need them?”