Chapter 224:

“That’s how it happened, Lord Kudel.

We interrogated it, and it told us it came from Anderma Hills, a messenger from some newly risen warlord there, coming to recruit the gnoll clans in the Baroness of Shadows’ territory to serve that warlord. But the gnolls here beat it up without honor.

If we hadn’t launched our attack on them today, this poor wretch would probably have become that clan’s breakfast tomorrow morning.”

Little Ashina eloquently told Kudel the whole process of how they captured the gnoll messenger. The Civilian Protection Officer of the Blood Wings, now with his wings folded, lowered his head and looked at the small, skinny gnoll tightly bound with rope but bruised and swollen.

The latter seemed to feel Kudel’s cold gaze beneath his face mask, shuddered without daring to make any movement, and even lowered its head in fear.

“No! It didn’t tell the truth.”

Kudel observed carefully, even reaching out to press his hand on the skinny gnoll’s neck to examine its fur closely, then said coldly to Little Ashina and Sister Pomegranate who had escorted the prisoner:

“The spots on this one’s fur are not in the shape of Transia gnolls. I saw similar fur spots over 100 years ago.

It’s from the Dark Mountain range!

To be precise, from the gnolls’ holy land, the Moss Valley by the Eternal Rift!”

“Ah? How dare it lie!”

Little Ashina swiftly drew her hand cannon and pressed it against the small gnoll’s head, cursing:

“You ungrateful bastard gnoll, I even shared half of my dinner with you! But you dared to lie to us?”

“Gah, no lie! No lie to powerful vampires!”

With the cold gun barrel pressed against its forehead, this talking gnoll began to tremble all over.

Its grayish-green eyeballs, which seemed overly “flexible” compared to other gnolls, rolled around as it screamed in a strange accent:

“I was born here! Really! Truer than a kobold’s candle! But, but my old man was indeed a holy warrior abandoned here to die, I didn’t lie to you! Kind vampires who gave me dinner.

Listen, the warlord King Kenport of the Anderma Great Beast Den is really dangerous!

I can tell you his plans, you’ll find me useful.

Don’t kill me!

Please!”

“What a cunning fellow.”

Sister Pomegranate said with a sneer:

“It’s really a miracle that such a lying creature can be born among gnolls. Perhaps we should kill it? I think this guy is still lying, at least not telling the whole truth. What do you think?”

“No, if it’s really smart, it should know not to conceal anything at this point, and I think you’ve really caught a smart enough barbarian. This is indeed a small miracle.”

The well-traveled Civilian Protection Officer shook his head.

Leaning on his crimson greatsword newly stained with the blood of the gnoll elite leader, he said in a hoarse voice:

“Individuals like it are not rare in the Black Disaster, especially those gnoll secret mages. Those fellows are no less cunning than other races. During the last Black Disaster, there were instances of gnolls persuading defeated soldiers of various races to surrender, and more than once.

But the appearance of such a creature now, before the Black Disaster has come, seems to forebode ill.

However, its fate should not be judged by us. Warriors, I need you and your team to escort it back to Crimson Citadel immediately and hand it over to Lord Murphy. The information it provides about that warlord in Anderma Hills might offer extra help for the second phase of this gnoll hunt.”

“Ding!”

A new quest was triggered.

Little Ashina looked at the content and shook her head, saying:

“This Quest Reward isn’t good either, probably just a message delivery task. I’ll take it back alone, Sister Pomegranate, you and the others stay here to continue the hunt. You need to grind your points, right? I’ll secretly tell you, I absolutely support you!

Don’t let that annoying Brother Mao surpass you, okay.”

“Mm.”

Sister Pomegranate nodded, watching Little Ashina spread her wide Blood Wings in the night, taking off amidst the terrified screams of the bound small gnoll.

Several days of flight training had allowed her to master the technique of swift night flight. She made a not-so-proficient turn in the air and disappeared into the night sky under the guidance of the purple light from the Astral Realm’s creation in the distance.

“Lady, are you one of Maxim’s warriors?”

As Sister Pomegranate was about to leave, Kudel suddenly called out to her from behind. This Civilian Protection Officer examined the exuberant fighting spirit enveloping Sister Pomegranate, a quality rarely seen in vampires. The dark nature of the midnight kin always made it difficult for true heroes to emerge among them.

Therefore, Sister Pomegranate had unsurprisingly caught Kudel’s attention.

He looked her over and said:

“Your elder Maxim challenged me, and without doubt, he failed, but his loyalty was both touching and unsettling. You, however, are another extreme. Seeing you reminds me of those human warriors who specialize in their craft.

Ah, during the Black Disaster a hundred years ago, I fought alongside the guardian monks of the Winter Wolf Church, and I’ve gained some insight into the use of hand-to-hand combat. My years of traveling have also allowed me to accumulate some valuable skills that I can’t use but are quite precious. I hear you like powerful challenges, so, would you like to have a small hunting competition with me under the moonlight?”

“What’s the reward?”

Sister Pomegranate didn’t refuse this task that came to her doorstep. She extended her claws and looked back at the Civilian Protection Officer, who let out a hoarse laugh beneath his mask and said:

“You warriors are indeed as frank as Murphy said. Well, of course there will be a reward, just as I promised to the warriors I favor. If you can hunt down 5 gnoll elite leaders faster than me before dawn, I’ll teach you the combat techniques I’ve mastered.”

This made Murphy look at her with surprise, his eyes full of curiosity, obviously asking Tris how exactly she could tell this fellow’s “bloodline”.

“Carefully observe the spots on the mane where its spine connects to its neck.”

Tris pointed her Nocturne Scepter at this small gnoll, explaining to Murphy and Little Ashina:

“The spots on ordinary gnolls are random, occasionally showing peculiar patterns but not worth noting. However, gnolls from the Moss Valley, the holy land of gnolls, have quite unique leaf-shaped and vine-like patterns around their necks.

It’s said this is because Moss Valley is supposedly one of Avalon’s holy places in the mortal world. It was once a mystical place where shadow elves worshiped the spider lady Avalon. After the third Black Disaster, gnolls took it from the shadow elves.

And these fellows, through some strange means, are able to enjoy blessings from nature there, thus awakening true intelligence and being endowed with spirit talent.

Of course, the above theory is just speculation. Given the unique location of Moss Valley in the Dark Mountain range, it’s impossible to enter and explore on a large scale outside the time periods when foul spirit energy weakens.

Such gnoll individuals are the ‘nobles’ of their race. Most of the famous gnoll warlords in history came from this class.

For example, the gnoll king ‘Gnawbone’, who almost conquered the world in the last Black Disaster, was a unique individual born in Moss Valley.”

“It’s eavesdropping!”

Little Ashina, who had been paying attention to the prisoner’s expressions, suddenly shouted.

Although the manes covering gnolls’ faces make their expressions hard to read, Ashina saw the movement of this fellow’s eyeballs. When Lady Tris was talking about the “Moss Valley”, this gnoll was obviously listening intently.

“Of course it’s eavesdropping. Gnolls with awakened intelligence are no different from civilized races, we can’t treat them with the attitude we use for barbarians anymore.”

Tris didn’t mind.

She stared at the small individual before her, casting a special spell at it. Clusters of crimson light points circled around the gnoll several times before dispersing.

This greatly disappointed Tris. She said:

“Very ordinary spirit talent. It seems it’s not a secret mage, hunting priest, or plague sorcerer. This one isn’t ‘high-grade goods’, just has a bit of thin bloodline.”

“It said its father came from Moss Valley.”

Murphy explained to Tris:

“This is what it told Kudel, and it was precisely this honesty that won it the chance to be sent to us. Kudel thought the information this fellow had about the newly risen gnoll warlord Kenport in Anderma Hills would be useful to us.”

“No need.”

Tris shook her head and said:

“Although there are many gnolls in Transia, they are just the remnant troops left here from the last Black Disaster. Being isolated from the Dark Mountain range means they have no chance to come into contact with the truly cruel survival of the fittest in gnoll society.

It can be said that in over 100 years, the local gnolls have evolved into a completely different form of civilization from those in the Dark Mountain range.

The gnoll warlords that can emerge here are not worth worrying about too much. Moreover, it’s been such a short time, even if Kenport could gather gnolls, his army wouldn’t exceed 10,000 people.”

“17,000 people!”

The small gnoll messenger suddenly spoke up to correct:

“King Kenport is very powerful, and Kenport is not a local gnoll from Transia! He comes from the Dark Mountain range, he’s a hunting priest, and he was sent by the big boss. The big boss sent many warriors into Transia 80 days and nights ago, but it’s said only Kenport survived and walked out of Foul Swamp alive.

He hid in Anderma Hills while humans were slaughtering each other.

After the Blood Vulture Clan weakened, Kenport began organizing my people on a large scale. He recruited in the name of the big boss, and many fools obeyed him. He claimed that the big boss would conquer this land when the Black Disaster comes, and give it to the local gnolls as a permanent kingdom.

I...

My clan was taken away by him like this!”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were a leader,”

Murphy laughed, looking at the gnoll with unique fur patterns before him. After a few seconds, he asked:

“What’s your name? Do you have a name?”

“I do.”

The small gnoll’s green eyeballs rolled a few times. Under the gaze of the three vampires, it said tremblingly:

“I named myself Nash”

“No!”

Murphy waved his hand to interrupt him.

Under the gaze of Tris and Little Ashina, he reached out and handed a handkerchief to the gnoll before him, gesturing for it to wipe the blood off its face.

The vampire lord looked at the small gnoll wiping its face with the handkerchief. He sensed something from this fellow that no other gnoll had given him, as if there was a soul hidden in that small body, full of discontent with reality but unable to find a solution.

Murphy was very familiar with this feeling.

So he narrowed his eyes, a very subtle and unique expression appearing on his handsome face, and he said in a low voice:

“That’s not your real name. That’s just a fake name you use to avoid terrible trouble. Your real name is ‘Gnawbone’!”

“???”