The Natural Empire of the Oceanic Dragon

Attilan instructed the centaurs to let the fishmen who had come to pay homage enter. Even though they were about to see the Dragon Lord, small frictions continued to occur among the fishmen.

They pushed and shoved each other, bumping and jostling until they stood before Attilan. When they saw the black fish sitting on the throne eating fish, and the red fish lying on the ground being healed by the shaman,

their eyes were filled with shock.

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"When did you two arrive?"

The black fish calmly ate his fish.

"Hurry up and pay your respects to the Dragon Lord! Do you want the esteemed Dragon Lord to wait for you?!"

The young man was good at buttering people up, but Attilan wasn't buying it.

As soon as the black fish said this, the colorful fishmen respectfully walked to Attilan and knelt down.

"Greetings, Dragon Lord!"

Attilan lazily waved his hand, rubbing his claws together, creating a string of metallic sparks.

"Rise, all of you. Tell me, why do you want to submit to me?"

One of the fishmen rushed forward, smiling obsequiously, and said:

"Naturally, it's because we admire the Dragon Lord's divine might. I saw the Dragon Lord summon wind and thunder, stirring up water vapor that blotted out the sky to form clouds. I immediately returned to my tribe and persuaded my people to submit to the Dragon Lord."

"It's just that this camp is a bit far from our tribe, so we arrived later than the black fish and the red fish."

The other fishmen quickly echoed:

"Yes, the journey was too far. When we returned and told our people about the Dragon Lord's divine might, everyone immediately shouted in unison that they wanted to submit to the Dragon Lord and live a life of power and prestige."

The grand and imposing magic array that Attilan had created definitely had an effect, but relying on power alone could only make people submit outwardly but not inwardly. The fact that the fishmen took the initiative to come and submit

was naturally due to the great efforts of the lobbyists sent by the old fishmen.

Giving dried fish to the shaman and the chieftain, casually giving a few salt-fried black beans to the passing children, the main thing was to show off wealth. For the backward wetland tribes, distributing food was much more effective than distributing money.

All sorts of complimentary words that the fishmen could think of were said over and over again, making Attilan's ears almost develop calluses. He waved his hand with slight impatience.

"One by one, tell me about your tribe's situation, how many warriors you have, how many fishmen can go underwater to dig soil. You, speak first."

The situation of the obsequious fishman's tribe was not very good. The number of people was only a little over a hundred, and the number of warriors was only sixty. No wonder he was so good at talking.

After all the fishmen had introduced their tribe's situation, Attilan tapped the wooden table in front of him with his fingers and said:

"If I remember correctly, there should be another fishman tribe besides you, right?"

"Reporting to the Dragon Lord, that is indeed the case. That tribe is the most powerful of all the fishman tribes. The reason they haven't come might be because they have their own ideas."

The black fish started buttering people up again.

At this time, the centaur came in again, reporting three times in a row. Attilan could clearly feel the centaur's impatience with these fishmen.

"Dragon Lord, another group of fishmen has arrived outside. There are more than twenty of them, all from the same tribe, and they look quite capable."

To be able to send out so many elites at once, that must be the strongest fishman tribe.

A burly fishman, nearly three meters tall, with four arms, took the lead and walked in. Behind him, the fishmen carried a huge golden crocodile.

The four-armed fishman knelt on one knee with a heroic aura.

"Greetings, Dragon Lord! In order to capture this crocodile as a gift to the Dragon Lord, we were delayed."

As he spoke, the crocodile, bound with vines and seaweed by the fishmen, was still struggling.

"It's still alive. You've done well."

Attilan waved his hand, and several minotaurs went up to take the crocodile, carried it to Attilan, and put it down. Attilan placed his hand on the crocodile's body, and a bright green light was injected into the crocodile's body to investigate its condition.

It was indeed the golden crocodile that Yadi had lost, but how had this crocodile grown so much in just half a year, reaching a length of six to almost seven meters?

This was exactly the target size that Yadi wanted to cultivate.

The crocodiles cultivated by Yadi were limited to a length of about five meters. After the experiment reached a stalemate, Yadi even wanted Attilan to get some information about the Titan crocodile from Xueran.

Attilan didn't know what Yadi was thinking. He was completely obsessed. Didn't he think about how Xueran got the nickname 'One-Handed'? Why bring up what shouldn't be brought up?

The correct request should have been for information on the gigantification of beasts!

Attilan hadn't taken action yet. In the past four months, he would occasionally go to the Amethyst Mountain to collect thunder energy to temper the Dragon Pearl, first using the Dragon Pearl to absorb thunder energy and then absorbing the Dragon Pearl into his body.

This kind of tempering was more comprehensive and meticulous, but the price was more pain.

Before, it was like using a broadsword to chop, but now it was like inserting ten one-centimeter thick steel needles into the body and pulling them out. Wouldn't you say it's more meticulous and the effect is more profound?

Thunder tempering was not the main purpose. Attilan came with a question.

Many druids in the forest who were deeply studying projects actually wanted to ask Xueran about their questions, but they were still somewhat socially awkward.

In order to better unite everyone around him, Attilan took the initiative to offer to help everyone ask questions. Otherwise, how do you think Attilan's agricultural cooperative and fruit wine club were formed?

Of course, Xueran was a very aloof person. If he thought your question was low-end or lacked innovation, and you were just trying to use his experimental methods to be lazy,

he wouldn't answer the question, but would look at Attilan with an expression that was thirty percent indifference, thirty percent contempt, and forty percent nonchalance, making Attilan subconsciously reflect on what was wrong with his question.

For example, Yadi's body size expansion problem. Why were druids still constantly researching how to cultivate larger crocodiles when there were already many huge crocodiles?

Because what the druids wanted was the process of expanding the body size, exercising the druid's compatibility with nature by expanding the crocodile's body size, thereby absorbing more natural magic.

It was the process of cultivating crocodiles to get experience points and improve the druid's level.

As for the various animals cultivated, they also helped the druid's combat power, but of course the druids relied more on spells and transformations to fight, and the combat power of animal companions was only a small part.

If summoners could also become stronger through material enhancement, why would they spend materials to enhance summoned beasts?

Attilan patted the crocodile, no longer thinking about how it had grown so much in such a short period of time, but from the Great River all the way to the wetlands, this golden crocodile must have been to the inner circle of the lake.

The crocodile's transformation was inseparable from the swamp wyvern.

"Immediately send the crocodile to Greenscale Town, and be careful not to let the crocodile die."

Attilan turned back to look at the four-armed fishman.

"Four-Arms, you're very good, you have the potential to compete for the position of the third overseer."

The four-armed fishman's tribe had more than three hundred fishmen, making them the undisputed number one. They originally lived in the southern part of the wetlands and had not fought against Lista before.

Of course, if they really fought, the four-armed fishmen would not be Lista's match either.

How to manage these twelve hundred fishmen was really a bit difficult.

"Sar, you are responsible for managing them. Four-Arms, Black Fish, Smiley, the three of you will assist him. Are there any problems?"

"No."

The three of them answered at the fastest speed, then looked at each other, knowing that the days ahead would turn from open strife to secret struggle.

Hopefully, this Sar sent by the Dragon Lord would be easy to fool.

Sar had just finished treating the red fish. When he heard Attilan mention his name, his eyes were filled with surprise.

"Dragon Lord, I don't have the experience to manage more than twelve hundred fishmen, I'm afraid I'll make mistakes."

Attilan waved his hand and said firmly:

"It's settled. If I say you can do it, you can do it. If I say they can't do it, they can't do it. Besides, look at Lista. Has he ever managed a thousand minotaurs before?"

Lista also nodded and said:

"You've served the Dragon Lord for so long, you must have learned a lot. Just give the fishmen some food, and give the disobedient fishmen whips."

"I think they'll listen."

Attilan smiled and said:

"Don't listen to Lista, his set of methods is almost the same for managing minotaurs. Manage them according to your own ideas."

The little fishman's eyes became firm.

"I remember you said that you wanted to clear the silt from the lake in the south to increase the lake's water storage capacity. Why not gather everyone to carry out this simple task to break them in?"

Attilan tapped the table with his claws.

"The matter of clearing the fishman lake will be put aside for the time being. It's more important to regulate the waterways and confine the water flowing from the rainforest to the designated river channels. It's okay to maintain the wetlands in the south, or even soak up more water."

"First, reclaim these tens of thousands of acres of fertile land in the Minotaur Plains. This area alone can reclaim one hundred thousand acres of fertile land, but the time required is not short."

"However, cohesion is indeed very important. Four-Arms, are there any powerful enemies nearby that your tribe can't defeat?"

Four-Arms' face sank, and he lowered his head and replied:

"There is indeed one in the south. A group of frogmen with toxins occupy a rotten swamp that accumulates poisonous gas. The number of frogmen exceeds five hundred, and they often fight with us for prey."

"Moreover, the frogmen arrogantly call their leader the God-King."

Attilan narrowed his eyes, snorted coldly, and said:

"What level are they to be called God-King? Even I wouldn't dare to use such an arrogant title before conquering this continent, and of course I wouldn't dare to use it after conquering it."

For frogmen, or rather toadmen, to use such a title would only be laughable.

And if an emperor who conquered a continent called himself God-King, it would provoke the wrath of the gods, and wouldn't Attilan and the frogman tribe be the difference between a god and a mortal?

"Follow the Dragon Lord's will!"