Final Lord

Chapter 251 The Dark Forest Exposed

The last rays of the setting sun shone on the city walls of the Gru territory, staining the mottled stone bricks a blood-red hue. The iron hooves of the counter-rebellion army shattered the silence of the land, but all that awaited them were empty streets and tattered flags fluttering in the wind.

Sutton stepped slowly from his gilded carriage, the sheep's hooves making a dull thud as they trod across the dusty cobblestones. He looked around, his deformed sheep nose twitching slightly, as if sniffing the lingering scent in the air.

"Search." He uttered a single word coldly, his voice like a rusty blade scraping against metal.

The soldiers quickly dispersed, kicking open the tightly closed doors, ransacking abandoned warehouses, and even digging up cellars and barns. However, apart from a few startled crows fluttering away from under the eaves, there was not a trace of life in the entire territory.

In the lord's manor, Sutton touched the dusty table, his face growing increasingly pale.

Before long, an old soldier clad in chainmail knelt on one knee, his rough fingers picking up a dry leaf from the ground, and reported in a deep voice: "Patriarch, the ashes in the stove have long since gone cold, and the moss by the well has spread to the wellhead, indicating that it has been neglected for at least two months. The people of the Gru territory... have probably already evacuated."

I estimate they've been gone for at least two months.

"Two months... The demonic tide broke out a month ago. No wonder that rat dared to betray the country. He had already run away before the demonic tide broke out."

If the flames of the Gru Territory were to leave the territory of the Stag Duchy, the capital would surely sense it. They are definitely still in the Stag Duchy, but we don't know where they are hiding.

A cold glint flashed in Sutton's sheep-like eyes, but his lips slowly parted to reveal gleaming white teeth.

“Heh…” He chuckled softly, his voice laced with sarcasm and contempt. “That rat Kate thinks she can escape the hounds by hiding in her hole? She certainly doesn’t realize that Hank discovered her ambition long ago.”

Sutton raised his arm, covered in white down, and took a jet-black ram's horn flute from his waist. The flute was covered in twisted runes and felt cold to the touch, as if it had been carved from the bones of the dead.

Sutton held the flute to his lips, but did not play. The ram's horn vibrated on its own, and wisps of black mist seeped from the holes, weaving a picture in mid-air—

In the scene, Lincoln's body is torn apart by the flash of a sword, and rotting black blood spurts out. His wide-open eyes are filled with resentment and fear, and a final hoarse curse escapes his throat.

The black mist surged and gradually condensed into Lincoln's phantom. His face was deathly pale, a fatal sword wound remained on his neck, and his empty eyes slowly turned before finally settling on Sutton.

“Give me directions,” Sutton commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Lincoln's lips moved, but no sound came out. He stiffly raised his arm, his withered fingers pointing like blades into the distance, clearly towards the Black Forest.

As the mist dissipated, the ram's horn flute fell silent once more. Sutton put away his flute and turned his gaze to the dark, dense forest in the distance. The treetops rippled like waves of ink, and the deep cawing of crows could be faintly heard.

"Give the order." He turned and walked toward the carriage, a sheep's hoof crunching a withered leaf. "The entire army assembles and prepares to depart."

“I’m going to teach that rat a lesson—” his voice was laced with a bloody pleasure, “that digging a hole and hiding will only lead to a quicker death.”

……

Deep in the Black Forest, Wang Bufu stood beneath a giant mushroom tree, his fingertips gently stroking the long spear at his waist.

Mist swirled in the forest, and the distant cawing of crows could be faintly heard. Suddenly, the sound of flapping wings grew louder as a jet-black crow flew through the layers of shadows and landed steadily in front of him. The crow's feathers flowed like ink the moment it touched the ground, its body contorted and expanded, and in the blink of an eye, it transformed into a crow-man scout kneeling on one knee. His breathing was slightly rapid, clearly indicating that he had flown all the way here at breakneck speed.

"My lord," the crow reported, bowing his head, his voice deep and clear, "the pacification army has arrived in Gru territory. After finding the territory deserted, Sutton used some kind of secret technique, which seems to have locked onto our location."

Wang Bufu raised an eyebrow: "Oh? Where are they now?"

"We're less than ten kilometers from the outskirts of the Black Forest, and we expect to arrive within half a day," the crow-man quickly replied. "Our forces number approximately four thousand four hundred, including over four hundred extraordinary units, among them ten extraordinary Tier 3 [Dreamless Sheep Beasts], and..."

He paused, his voice becoming somewhat grave, "Satton himself, Patriarch of the Shepherd's Heart Church, a transcendent fourth-tier [Nightmare Heart Sheep]."

Wang Bufu's gaze darkened slightly, and he tapped the gun barrel lightly with his fingertips, lost in thought.

The crow-man continued, "Those half-goat people all possess the ability to manipulate mist cages. Units imprisoned in the cages cannot leave; they enter one side and emerge from the corresponding other side."

Units outside the cage cannot enter the cage; if they enter from the outside side of the cage, they will exit from the corresponding outside side.

Both Tier 2 and Tier 3 half-goat beings possess the ability to become invisible within the fog cage, making them difficult to deal with.

Sutton can also control the fog cages. He can move soldiers into any fog cage at will, easily changing the battlefield situation, and can also detonate the cages to cause area damage.

Furthermore, his troops seem to be able to absorb emotions to enhance their combat effectiveness—fear, anger, and despair all become sources of power for them.

"Hmm. Just a common tactic of the Shepherd's Heart Cult." Wang Bufu smiled faintly. In his previous life, players had dealt with these faith-based professions quite a bit. Players had infiltrated almost every cult, and even the advancement methods of those mysterious believers were publicly posted on player forums, allowing players to comment freely.

In the face of the Fourth Calamity, this world has few secrets.

Wang Bufu turned to look at Mair beside him. The girl was clutching the gold coin bag tightly, her knuckles turning slightly white from the force. Noticing Wang Bufu's gaze, she subconsciously straightened her back, a hint of unease flashing in her eyes.

“Mair.” Wang Bufu’s voice suddenly softened. “You are the main force in this battle. If you panic, what will happen to the soldiers?”

Mair looked up abruptly, his pupils shrinking slightly: "But, my lord, I've never faced an enemy of this caliber before. I'm afraid I'll mess things up..."

Wang Bufu gently placed his hand on her shoulder, and the warmth from his palm made Maier pause slightly.

“Relax,” he whispered. “You are a hero who killed three epic cultists. Those soldiers and the so-called patriarchs combined are no more than an epic.”

Meyer blinked, her eyelashes fluttering slightly. She recalled the scene of using gold coins to harvest those cultists who were half-encased in amber, and she was quite puzzled.

Can that be considered a battle?

"Hmph. Darkening makes you twice as strong, while whitewashing makes you three times weaker." Wang Bufu's lips curled up slightly, a sly glint in his eyes. "With the combined epic skills of three cultists, you're not someone those things can fool."

(End of this chapter)