Necromancer, summoning 055? What the heck?

Chapter 190 White-bearded cat enters the rotten swamp, offering its neck

As dusk fell, the setting sun, like blood, dyed the horizon a deep crimson.

The white-bearded chieftain, along with several of his captains, entered the former camp of the "Rotten Swamp" tribe for the first time.

Over the past decade or so, the cat-like orcs have gazed upon this stronghold countless times from afar in various ways. They hid in bushes, lay behind rocks, and even risked climbing to the tops of the tallest trees, all to spy on this powerful and fearsome neighbor.

But from beginning to end, they never set foot on this land, and never even imagined that one day they would set foot on this land as victors.

Indeed, the Shadowclaw tribe certainly considers itself the victor.

Over the past day, Whitebeard witnessed firsthand the once arrogant and domineering Otter-Headed Beastmen fleeing in disarray across the wilderness, most of them having forgotten how to resist and easily captured by their own warriors.

He witnessed firsthand his temporary allies, this strange mixed force of orcs, humans, and undead, chasing after the deserters of the "Rotten Swamp" like ducks. Their magical weapons could even take down those tough enemies from hundreds or thousands of meters away.

He even spotted an elf in the conch-mouthed group. Well, Whitebeard had a good sense of smell; he could smell the scent of tree bark and grass seeds all over the guy.

This situation was too incredible. Whitebeard felt that something major had happened in the world that he did not understand, but he did not want to know, nor did he dare to know.

He just wanted to confirm one thing: whether his "Shadow Claw" tribe could really get enough supplies and survive smoothly, just as agreed.
After all, he knew very well that compared to the gains, the Shadowclaw tribe's efforts were insignificant.

With a mixture of awe, trepidation, and mixed emotions, Whitebeard stepped into the "Rotten Swamp" camp, where wisps of smoke still lingered.

As far as the eye could see, there were only broken walls and ruins.

The once towering wooden fence and watchtower were reduced to pieces scattered on the ground. The thick logs were torn apart and broken by some terrible force, revealing their charred, burnt surfaces.

Looking from the already demolished gate of the camp, the further in you go, the more damaged the buildings become. As you approach the inner city, the roads are riddled with potholes of varying depths.

Some of the larger craters were filled with murky, oily, and blood-stained sewage, the surface of which reflected the gradually darkening sky.

Although a round of clearing had already taken place, there were still some charred orc corpses frozen in place in various contorted postures. Whitebeard saw a corpse that was clearly that of the leader of the Otter-Boar Orcs. The broken and incomplete upper body was still covered with leather armor inlaid with iron plates, while the lower body was crushed by the building. Several human slaves stood blankly beside it, seemingly trying to figure out how to pull the guy out.

A patrol of soldiers marched past in orderly steps, their imposing military boots leaving a series of deep footprints on the filthy, barely recognizable flag of the Otter-Head tribe, which was now covered in dirt.

Of course, what bothered Bai Xu the most was the smell.

The air here was thick with a nauseating odor, a pungent smell of burnt wood, leather, flesh, and that strange, black mud that the otter-boar beastmen loved to burn.

Whitebeard involuntarily pressed his nose; at this moment, his keen sense of smell felt like a punishment.

However, with the guidance of the staff, everything he saw quickly made him forget the discomfort in his nose.

To the southeast of the camp, the traditional skills of Han Hai Ling are being used to create "exquisite sights".

Although based on the current skull composition, it should be called "animalistic," everyone has gotten used to this name and just says it that way.

Chen Mo specially arranged for a large number of human slaves to assist in this task, in order to break down a certain obstacle in their minds.

It seems the results are not ideal.

The humans, ordered to carry corpses and saw off beast heads, were pale and trembling. The orc heads with their short fangs seemed to weigh a ton in their hands as they were placed shakily on the earthen towers.

Place a layer of animal heads, cover it with a layer of mud, tamp it down slightly with a flat tool, and then continue to lay down the next layer of animal heads.

And so, their heads were placed into the "refined contemplation," while their bodies were piled up on one side. As the number of them increased, the human slaves' bodies trembled more and more violently.

Occasionally, an orc head would fall from their hands, and the human slave would kneel down with a thud, uttering indistinct pleas for mercy.

The progress of "refined observation" was proceeding slowly. Looking at these ferocious-looking guys, even the well-informed Whitebeard felt his throat go dry, and the captains around him were even more miserable.

"Chief..." A cat leader beside him trembled, his tail pressed tightly against his leg.

"Do we really want to cooperate with such a force?"

The white-bearded man was stunned for a long time, then gave a slight wry smile: "So, whether or not we cooperate is now up to us?"

"Of course, cooperation is always best done on a voluntary basis!"

A tall, minotaur warrior strode over; it was none other than Liu Zaiyue, the number one savage bull of the vast ocean.

Behind the old ox, a dozen or so bull-tribe guards, each over 2.7 meters tall, with their horns pointing diagonally to the sky, lined up in neat rows.

Their eyes were fixed straight ahead, their steps steady, and they wore armor that looked quite expensive, their battle axes gleaming coldly.

This was a cold weapon honor guard carefully selected by the Han Hai Territory from the "Stone Hoof" tribe, which had recently surrendered. They had just finished training and were eager to bring them over to support Liu Zaiyue.

The enormous height difference of the bull warriors gave everyone present the illusion that a shadow loomed over the sky.

Whitebeard finally confirmed that this Minotaur tribe did indeed have Minotaurs, and they were even fierce bulls!

Liu Zaiyue bent down and picked up a rolling otter-boar beastman's head from the ground. He blew off the dust and carefully placed it on the top layer of the "Jingguan" (a display case). He squatted down slightly so that his line of sight was level with the beastman's head, and carefully adjusted its orientation from left to right.

After fine-tuning for a full half minute to ensure the animal head was displayed at the perfect angle, Old Niu finally stood up and clapped his hands.

"Cooperation should first and foremost be based on voluntariness, and secondly, strive for a win-win situation. This is the way to cooperate!"

"I am the captain here, and this must be the white-bearded leader."

"The reconnaissance guard has reported that you did a very good job. The outer perimeter was sealed off tightly enough, and not a single otter-boar orc escaped control."

"Otherwise, this 'exquisite structure' really couldn't have been built this high!"

Just as Whitebeard was speechless, stunned by those incredibly powerful words, Old Ox scratched his head and asked, "What was the next word again?"

"I forgot... Let's go inside and talk!"

A relatively intact large stone house, which had just been cleaned up, still had a faint smell of burning. The temporary command post of the Han Hai Territory was set up here.

Upon entering the stone house, Bai Xu met Wang Shouyi, a canine beastman and representative sent by the Han Hai Territory. Filled with surprise and uncertainty, Bai Xu leaned halfway on the chair, his legs slightly tense, as if he might spring into action and leap straight to the roof at any moment.

Wang Shouyi didn't beat around the bush. He looked up from the huge map spread out on the ground and said directly, "The first phase of cooperation with your 'Shadow Claw' was perfect!"

The canine orc's voice was surprisingly gentle: "Our lord loves making friends and has always taught us to have many friends! So our group has good relationships with orcs, half-orcs, elves, priests in the north, and mages in the south."

"Our friends are also very happy to help us!"

"Our first collaboration with the cat-like orcs is going very well!"

"As per the previous agreement, the land south of the river now belongs to you!"

Wang Shouyi gestured on the map with his hand, indicating that it was the alluvial plain along the riverbank that he had promised to the cat-beastmen. Then, he placed a magic mark on the table in front of Bai Xu.

"The second batch of food and weapons that I promised you has been placed here. You can retrieve them at any time using this magic mark. Subsequent supplies will also be delivered within about two weeks."

"The reason we invited Chief Whitebeard here is to ask if, since our first collaboration went so well, you have any intention of continuing our cooperation?"

The white-bearded man was slightly taken aback.

"Excuse me, excuse me, is this person...?"

"This is Commander Wang!" The one who gave the warning was Liu Zaiyue. This minotaur warrior carefully huddled in the corner of the room, trying to keep his long and short horns on his head as low as possible to avoid accidentally opening a skylight in the room.

"Respected Commander!"

"The Shadowclaw tribe is very grateful for your tribe's generosity and is willing to continue serving you. However, we would like to ask what the Shadowclaw tribe needs to do to continue our cooperation?"

Wang Shouyi shook his head from side to side: "The stone mountain where you are is a good location, and it's okay as a fortress, but the living conditions are too poor. It's too simple and desolate to use it as a tribal camp."

"Now that the great enemy, the Otter-Boar Beastmen, has been dealt with, a brand new city is about to be built here. It will be safe and comfortable, and there will be a lot of construction going on in the future. There will be plenty of jobs to earn food everywhere."

"If Chief Whitebeard is willing, why not relocate all the families of those in the tribe who don't usually go on campaigns here? That way, your troops won't have to worry about the camp when they're out on missions!"

At this point, Wang Shouyi paused, seemingly wanting to give Bai Xu some time to process the information, before slowly asking, "What does the leader think?"

"I... I need to discuss this with the elders of the tribe!" Whitebeard licked his lips and answered cautiously.

Wang Shouyi nodded, seemingly having anticipated this answer: "Of course, such a big matter does indeed require careful discussion. But let's not take too long, three days, I'll give you three days to consider!"

As he left the swamp camp, Whitebeard looked back several times at the ever-growing "miracle," and finally gritted his teeth and stamped his foot, leading a few guards and followers on a night-long journey, finally arriving back at the cat tribe's "Shadowclaw" stone mountain base before dawn.

After summoning all the tribal elders and chiefs, Whitebeard explained the conditions offered by the other party, which quickly caused a great uproar.

"This is coercion, this is annexation!" A combat captain with a scarred face suddenly stood up, his hair standing on end.

"If we send all the children over there, won't we be at their mercy? What's the difference between that and handing over our necks to them?"

An older leader asked worriedly, "Will there be any danger if we don't agree?"

"Could we send some and keep some, to prevent... to prevent..."

The words weren't fully spoken, but everyone understood what they meant.

The white-bearded man tugged at his white beard hairs in frustration, but finally turned his gaze to the shaman elder who had been sitting to the side with his eyes closed, meditating.

Among the orcs, shamans are the symbol of wisdom. Don't be fooled by their burly appearance and tattoos; the selection of orc shamans, like that of mages, is directly related to the amount of spiritual power one possesses.

Mental strength and intelligence have a strange connection. In short, those who can become shamans must have an IQ above average.

Last time, it was the old shaman who spoke up: either don't accept anything, or go all out to help the tribe reach a consensus.

Seeing the expectant looks on everyone's faces, the old shaman, leaning on his ancestral staff, slowly stood up, his face etched with deep wrinkles.

The old shaman's first words silenced everyone: "The chief's child has been sent away as a hostage!"

"Now, it's just a matter of sending a few more hostages. We can't send the chief's children but not ours!"

These words instantly silenced many of the cat tribe leaders who had been filled with righteous indignation, and they lowered their heads.

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing for others to make demands of you!” The old shaman paced slowly, his ancestral staff striking the stone ground with a crisp sound.

"What do you think the Otter-Pig Beastmen would propose if they came back to life and went to negotiate with this... this tribe called Conch Mouth?"

What's the point of even mentioning conditions then?

He'd definitely kneel down and call him "Dad"!

Ultimately, strength is the foundation of everything.

"Shadow Claw" couldn't defeat "Rotten Swamp," and "Rotten Swamp" was annihilated by this behemoth in a single day. Once this relationship was clarified, the slight resentment in everyone's hearts vanished.

Some of the cat tribe leaders even felt a sense of smug satisfaction.

My dad made a request of me!

Finally, the shaman elder uttered a meaningful phrase from the cat-orc slang.

"It's better to have someone grab the back of your neck than to have someone choke you!"

The cat leaders present looked at each other, and in unison shrank their necks.

The next morning, the Han Hai Territory received a reply from the cat-like beastmen. All the elderly, women, and children, totaling more than 2,600, had packed their belongings and were heading towards the "Rotten Swamp" along the plains and rivers.

We request the protection of the Vast Ocean Territory.

(End of this chapter)