You promised to wreak havoc on the dungeon, but instead you've got Dragon Slime!

One of the cans had a small tear in the sealing cloth, and several translucent tendrils were peeking out from the gap, gently scraping the metal edge.

"Explosive Bugs." Ron recognized the creature. They weren't large, but their gnawing speed was astonishing, especially when it came to energy crystals, which were like candy to them.

Without time to think, Ron immediately ordered his guards to tighten the protective array and seal all the metal cans into a temporary isolation shield.

Just then, a crisp cracking sound came from the other end of the warehouse—a metal can fell off the shelf, and the sealing cloth completely broke open.

Instantly, a pungent, fishy smell spread.

The first explosive insect crawled out of the jar, its translucent carapace gleaming coldly in the light, its mouthparts resembling two slender saws. It moved with incredible speed, disappearing into the crack in the floor almost instantly.

Ron shouted in a deep voice, "Seal off the entire area! Not a single one can escape!"

The guards activated the isolation array, and the entire warehouse was enveloped in the glowing light of the array.

However, the Explosive Insects were too fast. In just a few breaths, three of them burrowed into the energy channel at the bottom of the floor and rushed along the passage toward the Black Language Cave.

Ron immediately pressed the emergency cutoff button on the control panel, forcibly sealing the entrance to the core energy pipe.

"Disconnect the core energy vein for five minutes," Claudia reminded him in his ear.

“Five minutes is enough,” Ron said through gritted teeth. “Force them all out.”

For the next half hour, the warehouse became a hunting ground for insects.

Once the Explosive Insects show themselves, they are either shattered by the Shock Spear or pinned to the ground by the Binding Rune and turned into a puddle of pus.

Ron finally breathed a sigh of relief after the last insect was swatted dead.

He looked at the row of metal canisters and said coldly, "Bacchus, do you really want to destroy my core? Next time I'll make sure you can't even keep your lair."

Inside the stone chamber of the Carnival Maze, Bacchus's swarm of knowledge insects was completely wiped out, and the wine glass in his hand was crushed into pieces.

"He reacted too quickly."

The man in black hesitated and said, "Then... should we use the 'Soul Split Talisman' directly?"

Bacchus slowly raised his head: "It's time."

In the stone chamber of the carnival maze, firelight danced wildly on the walls.

Bakus pulled a jet-black talisman from his sleeve. The talisman's surface was engraved with twisted cracks, as if someone had painstakingly carved them with a knife. From each crack seeped a dark red light.

The man in black robes whispered, "Are we really going to use this? What about its side effects..."

“I know about the side effects,” Bacchus interrupted him. “This isn’t a fight, this is poisoning.”

The Soul-Splitting Talisman is an extremely insidious mental talisman. Once activated, it can seep into the target's consciousness along the mental fluctuations locked by the caster, causing the target to fall into continuous hallucinations and mental torment, as if countless hooks are tearing at their brain.

Normal defense arrays would have a hard time stopping it because it's not a physical attack, but rather it bypasses external defenses and penetrates deep into the consciousness.

Bakus slowly exhaled, placed his hand on the talisman, and whispered incantations that snaked out like venomous snakes.

The next second, the talisman shattered, turning into a thin wisp of black mist that drifted towards the Black Language Cave following the locked mental fluctuations.

The high platform of the Black Language Grotto.

Ron was checking the energy curve on the control panel when suddenly his brow furrowed, and a chilling aura shot up his spine, like someone whispering in his ear or invisible needles pricking his brain.

The surrounding scenery blurred in an instant, and the runes on the control panel twisted and flowed like melting wax.

A deep rumble exploded in my mind—not heard by my ears, but echoing directly in the depths of my consciousness.

“Soul Splitting Talisman…” Ron muttered to himself.

Hallucinations came like a tidal wave.

The high platform he stood on turned into an endless desert, the sky was gloomy and oppressive, and dark shadows rose from the horizon like giant insect shells.

A familiar yet unfamiliar voice reached my ears: "Give up... Your formation can't hold... The Black Language Cave will be buried..."

The sound kept repeating, each time sounding like someone was hitting your temple with a hammer.

Consciousness began to crumble under the intense pain, and even his fingers lost their strength.

Just then, the "Origin Chain" deep within Ron's mind, symbolizing core control, suddenly lit up.

This is the mental lock he left behind when he bound himself to the Black Language Cave—as long as the chain remains, any external mental erosion will first encounter it.

He seized this sliver of clarity, biting his tongue hard, letting the pain pierce through the first layer of illusion.

A faint "crackling" sound immediately filled the air, like cracks appearing in the ice.

"You want to play mind games?" Ron growled. "Then let's see who gives up first."

He activated the mental countermeasure array of the Black Language Cave, synchronizing the mental fluctuations of all the monsters in the city and the defense core into his own sea of ​​consciousness.

This approach is very risky, as it's equivalent to merging one's mind with the will of hundreds of monsters. If one can't withstand it, one might be driven insane by the backlash.

The effect was immediate—the black mist of the Soul Splitting Talisman crashed into a swamp, where it was entangled, diluted, and worn away by countless overlapping monster growls.

Inside the carnival maze, Bakus suddenly groaned, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his staff.

The man in black robes asked in surprise, "What's wrong?"

“He…bit me in the opposite direction.” Bacchus’s jaw clenched.

The Soul-Splitting Talisman was supposed to be a one-way poison hook, but now that monster's will rushed in along the talisman chain in the opposite direction, as if trying to tear his consciousness apart.

On the high platform of the Black Language Cave, Ron opened his eyes and gave a cold smile.

"receive."

The mental countermeasure array shut down instantly, the rune chains snapped back, and the backlash force cut back along the mental fluctuations like a knife.

In the stone chamber of the carnival maze, Bakus suddenly covered his forehead, knelt down, his breathing erratic, his mind feeling as if a pot of boiling oil had been poured into it.

The Soul-Splitting Talisman shattered completely, turning into ashes that fell at his feet.

He knew that this time he had lost the psychological battle.

Ron slowly exhaled, raised his hand to bring up the mental interference monitoring on the console, and archived the records into the guild's encrypted database.

"Bacchus, you've lost this round."

The air in the stone chamber of the carnival maze felt as heavy as lead.

Bakus knelt on the ground, his breathing erratic, cold sweat still clinging to his forehead. The backlash from the Soul-Splitting Talisman still throbbed in his head, like a dull knife twisting inside.

The man in black handed over a cup of medicine and said in a low voice, "You need to rest for a few days. This head-on confrontation has taken a heavy toll on your health."

Bacchus waved his hand: "Resting is fine, but Ron can't think I've retired."

He walked to the map and pointed to the outskirts of Emerald Town and several adjacent territories.

“The lords in these places usually harbor resentment towards the guild and are also afraid that Ron’s Black Language Cave will steal their business. We can…give them a push.”

The man in black robes suddenly realized: "Let them represent you?"

Bacchus sneered: "That's right. It's inconvenient for me to take direct action, so I'll let them cause trouble under their own banner. Even if Ron retaliates, it will be against them, not me."

Three days later, the "Red Rock Territory" in the northwest of Emerald Town issued a notice:

"Black Language Cave has seized the challenge market and disrupted the surrounding economic order. This territory has decided to impose an additional toll on Black Language Cave challengers."

On the same day, the southern port of Grey Sail also announced:

"Caravans from Black Language Cave are prohibited from conducting large-scale transactions at the port."

This series of actions caused the cost for adventurers and caravans to enter and exit the Black Language Caves to skyrocket.

On the high platform of the Black Language Cave, Claudia slammed the announcement on the table: "This is a joint operation by Red Rock Territory and Gray Sail Harbor to seal off your territory!"

Ron flipped through the announcement, his expression calm: "They don't have the guts to go it alone; someone's pushing them from behind."

Lilith asked, "So what do we do? Fight back head-on?"

“We should fight back, but we need to fight separately first.” Ron circled two places on the map. “Red Rock Territory is inland and relies on adventurers’ supply lines; Gray Sail Port is by the sea and relies on trade routes. Since the methods are different, we can’t use the same approach to deal with them.”

That evening, Ron sent out two groups of men.

The first group took the northwest route, secretly inserting low-priced substitutes into the supply lines of Red Rock Territory, thus disrupting their original monopoly on the potion and arrow market.

The second group took the southern route, contacting several independent fleets in Grey Sail Port and offering them higher freight rates to help them resell goods into Emerald Town.

A week later, the medicine warehouses in Red Rock Territory were overflowing with unsold goods, and no one was willing to pay high prices for them. The port superintendent of Grey Sail Harbor was forced to crack down on smuggling every day, but the more he cracked down, the more smuggling occurred, because the fleets themselves were involved.

The lords of the two regions then realized that going against Ron was not as simple as just raising tariffs.

They began sending messages to the Carnival Maze—they weren't going to risk their lives for Bacchus unless he offered greater benefits.

When Bacchus received the reply, his teacup shattered on the table with a loud thud.

The man in black robes whispered, "They're retreating."

Bacchus gritted his teeth: "Then let's find someone more obedient. As long as someone is willing to take the money and do the job, I won't lack cards to play."

He knew very well that the proxy war was just the beginning; the real purpose was to keep Ron busy dealing with these peripheral troubles, so he wouldn't have time to continue reinforcing the defenses of Black Whisper Caves.

Chapter 132

Ron had already seen through Bacchus's scheme.

He looked at the intelligence screen on the control panel from the high platform and said calmly, "He wants to use others to hold me back, so I'll cut that rope first and make sure he can't even find me."

He raised his hand and pointed to the northern marker: "Let's start with North Ridge and show them what happens when they stand up for Bakus."

Beiling is a long, narrow territory north of Emerald Town, with mostly hilly terrain, and its main industries are mineral and fur trade.

Despite their apparent neutrality, they were actually the most vocal in Bakus's "proxy war"—not only did they echo the blockade of Red Rock Territory and Gray Sail Harbor, but they also deliberately detained the supply convoy passing through Black Whisper Caves at their own border.

Ron had no intention of giving them a chance.

Three days later, as the morning mist over Beiling dissipated, a group of over fifty guards from the Black Language Grottoes set off on the trade route through the Beiling hills.

These people were fully armed, carrying light crossbows, portable talismans, and several supply wagons covered with cloth, making them look like an ordinary merchant caravan.

The guards at the Beiling checkpoint had long received orders to seize all goods and impose heavy taxes on any caravans they saw.

To their surprise, the caravan entered the customs at the same speed, ignoring their warnings and forcing its way in.

Just as the defenders were about to raise their weapons, the tarpaulin covering the supply wagon was lifted, revealing the muzzles of crossbows gleaming with magical light.

"Boom!" The first wave of rune arrows, accompanied by a shockwave, slammed into the gate, instantly shattering the wooden gate into pieces, breaking the iron chains, and sending the hinges flying far away.

The guards filed in and cleared away the defenders' obstruction as easily as cutting tofu.