Final Lord

Chapter 162 The Attack Arrives
"Hey! No, no, no!" Rotten Sausage reached out to grab Mair, but suddenly let out a cry. Two poisoned spears blocked his way, their emerald tips almost piercing his chin.

"You dare to negotiate with a young lady? Get lost!" A deep voice came from inside the snow fox fur.

“I’ll talk, I’ll talk,” the rotten sausage shouted. “I’ll speak first. If you think what I say makes sense, give me some information fee. If what I say doesn’t make sense, you can kick me out then.”

"Good intelligence can save my life, sir."

Meyer lifted the carriage curtain and waved to the rotten sausage.

"Bring him here."

The caveman's spear slipped under the rotten sausage's armpits, holding it down on both sides and dragging it to the bottom of the carriage.

"Go ahead."

"Hey, hey," Rotten Sausage hurriedly said, "Sir, you are a follower of the God of Commerce, and no powerful force with any influence dares to touch you in our Night Mountain City. But there are three forces that are not among them."

One is the Shadow Society, whose members are all followers of the God of Shadows. Everyone in the organization is a wanted criminal by the Night Market.

For them, the sins they have committed are enough to warrant a thousand deaths, and even if they attack you, their situation will not get any worse.

Another group consists of outlaws from "Death Knell Street." "Death Knell Street" is the most chaotic street in our Night Mountain City. It's a hub for criminals and bandits from the Eagle Kingdom. They're usually quite well-behaved because they also need Night Mountain City as a place to sell their stolen goods.

But you're being far too generous, sir. They can hardly resist the temptation to make a fortune and live off that.

The last one is the hardest to deal with, but once they do, their customers will be in big trouble.

If the guest would like to hear more, then…

"That's enough, throw it out."

The two cavemen brandished their spears, and Rotten Sausage immediately dropped his joking grin, hooking his foot under the carriage and shouting, "Guest, I was wrong! I was ungrateful! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

"Stop." The cavemen halted their movements, and Mair's icy face appeared at the window. "Last chance, understand?"

"I understand, I understand," Rotten Sausage quickly replied. "The last force is the Gravediggers who live in Rotten Finger Alley. If necromancers are evil, then they are utterly wicked!"

This is a group of madmen who are obsessed with digging graves and burying living beings in them to turn them into dead spirits.

They don't actually lack gold coins, because they are the largest supplier of all undead goods in Night Mountain City. Not only undead units like skeletons, but they can also supply undead-related treasures and blueprints.

That's why I said they're unlikely to target you.

But they enjoy collecting rare and unusual treasures, the more precious the better. And they like to get to the bottom of things, to find out where the treasures came from.

I've lived in Night Mountain City for so many years, and this is the first time I've ever seen an ice sculpture blessed by the Ice God in your hands. They certainly won't let it go.

Unlike the scum of the Church of Shadows and Deathknell Street, those gravediggers are extraordinary professionals, and very difficult to deal with.

Rotten Sausage cautiously probed, "Guest, this is all the information I have. These are the three families that might target you... What do you think..." "Hmph..." Mair pretended to think, glancing sideways into the carriage.

Suddenly, a voice rang in Mair's mind. Mair's eyes lit up, and he tossed a bag of gold coins into Rotten Sausage's arms, saying to Rotten Sausage:

"You dared to risk your life to pass on intelligence to us, you certainly have some guts. Here's a reward of fifty gold coins for you."

Next, you will follow our carriage. If anyone attacks us later, we will give you another five hundred gold coins.

Five...five hundred gold coins! Rotten Sausage's mouth was watering.

What a fat sheep! A fat sheep that has only eaten grass and hasn't pooped in half a year!

He couldn't even earn 500 gold coins in half a year in Night Mountain City.

"Yes, sir! I will follow your carriage closely and be your most discerning eyes! I know all three of these powerful men. As long as their stench is near you, I, Rotten Sausage, will be able to smell it out!"

Rotten Sausage followed Mair's carriage. Looking at the guards on either side of him, cloaked in snow fox fur, he felt his own status rise, and he walked with an air of superiority.

"Woo——"

Just as the caravan reached a relatively secluded area, a melodious bone whistle suddenly came from the direction of the Wailing Wall.

The rotten sausage bounced up as if it had been branded with a hot iron, its body hair standing on end. It shouted, "Sir, be careful! It's the Shadow Church's Soul-Chasing Whistle! The Shadow Church is here!"

Three shadow cultists draped in spiderweb robes were scurrying along the wall. Hearing the sound of rotting sausages, they quickened their pace and rushed toward the carriage where Mair was.

"Whoosh—" Before the whistle had even faded, three poisoned bone darts tore through the spiderweb robe and shot toward Mair's brow! Just then, the stone slabs beneath the carriage suddenly churned, and three cannonballs wrapped in a putrid green poisonous mist roared out, knocking the poisoned bone darts down in mid-air!

Crows descended from the shadows above the alley, transforming into human form the instant they landed. Poisoned blades flashed, and dark green blood instantly bloomed on the necks of three Shadow Cultists. Even in death, they maintained their hunched posture, slithering along the wall, their bodies beneath spiderweb robes now boiling venom, sizzling and corroding the cobblestone pavement.

"This fat sheep seems pretty formidable; no wonder it dares to be so ostentatious." The rotten sausage had barely huddled behind the wheel when the battle was already over. He swallowed hard, watching the crows rise again.

coax!
Suddenly, the Wailing Wall in the distance exploded, sending bricks and stones flying everywhere. Twelve humanoid creatures clad in black leather armor charged forward, wielding serrated machetes. Behind them followed three black-robed tomb guardians, their withered fingers wrapping shrouds around rusty grave-digging shovels.

"They're here again! This time it's the Black Armor Thief from Death Knell Street and the Gravedigger together!" Rotten Sausage had just stuck half his body out of the wheel when he was so frightened that he hid back inside.

Just then, two cat-sand beasts leaped out from the snow fox cloak, their claws whipping up a sandstorm that instantly obscured the street. The black-armored bandits who rushed into the sandstorm were instantly torn apart like pieces of meat thrown into a meat grinder, their skin ripped open amidst the swirling sand.

The cat-sand beast's claws came down from above, while the poison assassin's cannonballs came up from below. Under this pincer attack, these ordinary level 3 black-armored thieves didn't even see where their enemies were before they died tragically in the sandstorm.

The gravediggers were clearly taken aback by their teammate's swift death. A wave of despair washed over them, and they hastily raised the bone bells meant to summon the dead. But just then, a sharp cry rang out from the sky, and a beautiful, four-winged harpy with a green hue and a swooping net swooped down from the heights above Apple!

The net fell, instantly trapping the gravediggers inside, their sharp claws piercing precisely into their sunken eye sockets.

"Ugh! Extraordinary!" The gravedigger's cry of pain had barely begun when the Cat Sand Beast appeared beside them, emerging from the sandstorm.

(End of this chapter)