Chapter 140: Fanning the Flames

The Golden Water River, lining the southern edge of Victor’s territory, stretches for thirty kilometers. Over four thousand ant-men roam the riverbanks, looking sparse from a distance. Yet, once a skirmish breaks out on the beach, these ant-men swarm like wolves smelling blood. Standing on a high ridge, Victor witnessed over a dozen incidents where ant-men pursued murlocs. Most of these chases, however, were futile; the murlocs would wait for a lapse in the swarm’s vigilance, snatch an ant-man, and drag it into the river. By the time the swarm converged, the murlocs would have vanished into the turbulent currents with their captive, leaving only churning water and the green blood of the ant-men surfacing. The swarm could only hiss in helpless frustration on the shore.

The murlocs’ intelligent guerrilla tactics overturned Victor’s perception of them. He asked with curiosity, "When did these murlocs start employing this strategy?"

"After you left the territory, the murlocs and the ant swarm fought two fierce battles. About a thousand murlocs were killed, but the swarm suffered significant losses as well, and two ant-men leaders retreated from the territory entirely. Since then, the murlocs have been ambushing the ant-men, and they haven't stopped. It won't be long before the murlocs launch another attack on the swarm. These little monsters are notoriously stubborn," Nelson chuckled.

The ugly heads of the murlocs surfaced and submerged in the waves of the Golden Water River, their fierce eyes fixed on the ant-men ashore; they clearly had no intention of letting these invaders off.

Victor smiled, "Nelson, don't you think these murlocs are quite cute?"

Nelson paused, then broke into a loud laugh. If not for these murlocs pinning down the swarm, the purple cane in Victor’s territory would likely have been devoured by the ant-men long ago. The murlocs were protecting the precious purple cane with their lives—in that sense, they were indeed adorable.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Let’s give our murloc friends a hand and let them have another good fight with the ant-men." Victor turned to Reynold beside him and asked, "Is everything ready over there?"

Reynold nodded. "As you ordered, everything is prepared."

"Then let’s begin." Victor hopped onto the dog-cart. When he saw Nelson also climbing onto another cart, clad in heavy armor, he couldn't help but ask, "Nelson, don't you feel tired wearing that armor?"

Nelson slapped his fine-iron breastplate with a resounding clang and said spiritedly, "My lord, this weight is nothing; I don't feel tired at all!"

Victor’s mouth twitched. Nelson certainly wouldn't feel tired sitting on the dog-cart—the one doing the work was the war mastiff pulling it. Well, the weight was nothing to a war mastiff, but did he really not feel hot inside that iron tin? In the end, Victor didn't ask; Nelson’s answer would surely be that he wasn't hot, just as he had claimed yesterday.

Before long, the party reached their destination: a dense little grove. Outside the woods, hundreds of ant-men were busily gnawing on patches of purple cane. Amidst the rustling sounds, the three-meter-tall stalks collapsed one after another. Victor and Nelson exchanged a look, both seeing the fury in each other’s eyes.

"Donny, is the pit dug?" Victor asked one of the monkey-folk militia.

Donny pointed to a pit not far away and replied, "My lord, it is ready—ten meters deep."

The two-meter-square pit was indeed ten meters deep, the bottom lined with the leaves of the ram’s-horn flower. Beside the pit sat two wooden barrels filled with a green paste. The pungent odor made Victor frown. "How long will the preservative effect of these herbs last?"

"It can guarantee the corpse won't decay for thirty days. However, whether it is effective on ant-men, we cannot be certain," Donny answered honestly.

Victor nodded, just about to speak, when he heard Nelson’s voice. "My lord, must we really sacrifice these great dogs? They are powerful and loyal, trustworthy partners."

Ten war mastiffs sat in a row on the ground. Nelson stroked their heads, clearly pained by the prospect of sacrificing these formidable, violent beasts. Seeing this, Victor sighed, "The ant-men leaders are Silver-tier monsters. How can we kill a Silver-tier monster without sacrifice? These war mastiffs are bred with secret elixirs; they are infertile, short-lived, and consume too much. We simply cannot support this many of them right now."

"My lord, these mastiffs have strength comparable to violent gnolls. It’s such a waste to sacrifice them. There are wild boars everywhere in the territory; feeding them shouldn't be a problem! How about you let me try? With a mastiff distracting the leader, I’m sure I can do it!" Nelson gripped his two new battle-axes, eager to prove himself.

"If you train for another three months and master the Monkey-folk Secret Form, then maybe!" Victor glared at him before continuing, "Don't be fooled by the number of boars in the territory. These mastiffs would eat them all in a few months—that would be the real waste!"

"My lord, the boars destroy our crops; it would be better if they all died. Why is that a waste?" Nelson asked, puzzled. Back when their mercenary company was struggling, they had even taken missions to exterminate wild boars.

Victor felt a headache coming on. The war mastiffs were standard templates for ferocious beasts, and such a creature required at least 100 square kilometers of territory to ensure a sufficient food supply. Keeping too many would only destroy the territory’s biological resources. Victor wasn't about to explain environmentalism or sustainable development to Nelson; he simply said, "The boars are very useful to me. When the territory begins reconstruction, I plan to raise them in large numbers."

Scratching his iron helmet, Nelson remained perplexed. In the kingdoms of men, no one raised wild boars because lords disliked the greasy meat. But if Lord Victor said it was useful, it must be useful; he always saw wealth where others saw nothing. Thinking this, Nelson stopped worrying, feeling excitement and anticipation instead.

"Begin!"

At Victor’s command, a massive war mastiff roared and lunged into the purple cane forest. Before the swarm could react, it bit the heads off two outer ant-men, barked a few defiant roars, and turned to sprint toward the riverbank.

The alerted swarm let out shrill hisses and pursued the green-blood-stained mastiff in a dark, surging mass. In an instant, they were gone, leaving the ant-man leader standing alone. The leader tilted its head and began to walk away leisurely. Another mastiff darted out, mane bristling, baring sharp, grim fangs to block the leader’s path.

The ant-man leader eyed the calf-sized mastiff. After a quick assessment, it determined the beast was not worth the hunt and continued forward.

The mastiff’s green eyes turned blood-red, the muscles beneath its fur bulged, and its entire frame seemed to grow. With lightning speed, it lunged behind the leader, biting down hard on a hind leg and pulling back violently. Its sharp fangs scraped against the chitin, producing a teeth-grinding screech, but it failed to crush the leader’s resilient armor.

The leader stumbled from the immense force and flew into a rage. A tiger might not hunt a mouse, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be angered by a bite. The leader raised its hind leg and brought it down, intending to stomp the insolent beast into pulp.

*Thump.*

The leader’s foot missed, sinking deep into the churned-up earth. The speed of the blood-lusted mastiff was incredible; it dodged the lethal stomp and bit the leader’s leg again. Provoked once more, the leader’s anger surged into a frenzy. It pulled its leg free and turned to chase the mastiff.

The Silver-tier ant-man leader sprinted on its four legs, reaching a speed of 20 meters per second, yet it still couldn't catch the blood-lusted mastiff. Thus, the powerful, ferocious monster chased the beast in circles around the area.

Ten minutes later, the bloodlust ended. The mastiff deflated like a punctured balloon, its body sagging, and its speed dropped drastically. The leader pounced, grabbed the weakened beast, and tore it in two.

Letting out a triumphant hiss, the leader turned to leave, only for another mastiff to emerge from the cane forest. The same scene played out again.

By the time the leader killed its sixth mastiff, Nelson saw the remains scattered in the pool of blood and could no longer suppress his anxiety. He asked Victor, "My lord, isn't that enough!?"

Victor remained indifferent to Nelson’s concern. The mastiffs were meant to be sacrificed; the production cost of one was 1,200 gold sols. As long as the loss didn't exceed ten, the operation would remain profitable.

After a while, Reynold walked over and reported, "My lord, the swarm has been led to the designated position."

Victor’s eyes lit up. He signaled, and the remaining three mastiffs charged the leader simultaneously.

As the leader was entangled with the four mastiffs, Victor, hiding three hundred meters away, fired his thor-silver heavy crossbow, piercing the leader’s head. The surviving mastiffs quickly fled from the leader’s death throes. After struggling for a while, the leader finally breathed its last.

"Quickly!"

The mastiffs dragged the corpse toward the pit. Several militiamen rushed to the scene with barrels of boar excrement, covering the leader’s green blood to mask the scent. The body was thrown into the deep pit, the prepared preservative herbs were poured over it, and the militiamen filled the hole. Once finished, Victor led everyone away from the grove.

Meanwhile, in a valley near the riverbank, the swarm, having lost its leader, fell into chaos. Over two hundred monkey-folk militiamen armed with heavy bows unleashed a volley of lethal arrows from the hills. After a few rounds of fire, all four hundred ant-men lay dead in the valley. The militia retreated decisively toward the west side of the territory.

The ant-men on the riverbank caught the scent of their kin's death and over three thousand surged toward the valley. As they moved away from the shore, the murlocs in the Golden Water River swarmed onto the beach.

And so, a fierce battle between the murlocs and the ant swarm broke out once again.