Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 1050 - 268: Goddess

Chapter 1050: Chapter 268: Goddess

"Far from it, after learning from last year’s lessons, we provided the troops with plenty of fur coats this year, as the desert nights can be very cold. We also distributed insect repellent made by the Zodanu Clan’s toad witch doctors. This time, we assembled in advance and have been training in the desert for nearly a month now, including details like carrying clean water. The kingdom has also made a new batch of huge waterskins sewn from cowhide." Prince Kahn laughed heartily.

"Since we’re so well-prepared, I believe we should have a firm grasp on victory." Liu Zhenshan tossed aside the ruler in his hand, "So, what are we waiting for? When do we leave? My dear Prince!"

"Your Highness should rest well tonight, for tomorrow you and the Vanguard Legion will set out. As the saying goes, ’speed is of the essence in warfare.’ We waged war against the Desert People last year, and I believe they won’t be without preparations for our arrival this year," Prince Kahn said as he pressed his hand against the table and slowly stood up, "Your Highness, your legion is the vanguard of the army. I hope that the sharp blades of the brave warriors of Fierce Cui will bring the greatest of news to the kingdom!"

"No problem." Liu Zhenshan waved his hand carelessly, casting a sidelong glance at Prince Lionheart, "Prince Kahn, if I may be so bold to ask, is Prince Richard here this time?"

"Prince Richard is also a Holy Temple Knight and will certainly participate in the war. This time, ten princes have come altogether, it’s not just Prince Richard," Prince Kahn replied with a smile, saluting militarily. He turned and walked away, joining some generals nearby who were engaged in an intense discussion with staff officers, listening to various reports.

Liu Zhenshan sat on his chair and seemed to be in a daze for a moment. The three gold-robed high priests knew he was getting ready to compete with the prince again and snickered secretly to themselves. With Prince Lionheart in charge of the entire legion’s operational plan, and ten liger princes joining, it seemed there would be quite a spectacle.

After exchanging some polite farewells, the three high priests took their leave of the Shaman of Divine Songs and headed to the rooms arranged for them in the side hall to rest, leaving Liu Zhenshan to continue sitting there, lost in thought.

"Scared?" Helen asked Liu Zhenshan quietly.

"Scared?" Liu Zhenshan chuckled at the absurdity of the idea, "Our logistical support is all arranged by Fierce Cui. My clean water is carried in iron barrels, five hundred gallons each, and Elder Andulan has prepared a hundred barrels for me. That’s two hundred thousand pounds of water—enough for baths and watering plants. As for food, don’t even get me started. There’s plenty of stored rice and jerky. The cold storage has frozen trout, frozen shrimp... It’s frightening how much I’ve got in my Space Ring. Even the prince and the princes could hardly choke my supply, right?"

"It’s not that they would cut off our supplies, I’m worried that they might send you out as cannon fodder," Moer shook her head, looking over at Prince Kahn, who was discussing military affairs with the staff officers, and she lowered her voice to add.

"No one can treat a priest with a super-level Warcraft as cannon fodder. If we can’t win, at least we can always slip away," Liu Zhenshan laughed.

"We have to recruit Qian Qian’s uncle, father, and cousin over. Given that their time is also precious, we shouldn’t bother calling them back for no reason. The Vanguard Legion only has two brigades, and one person like me is more than enough to empower them with battle songs," Helen offered with a gentle smile. "What we need to increase now is the attack power of the mages. No matter what, if we can’t win, at least running away shouldn’t be an issue."

"If only Master Puskas would come to me for an autumn breeze, how nice that would be." Liu Zhenhan sighed with regret, "No way! I must send a flame message right away, urging Dragon City to allocate the 150 Dragon people to me!"

"Let’s go, it’s more important to select five somewhat intelligent young priests first." Helen stood up from the wooden stump and stretched lazily, "If we train them well, they can be used in the future to summon high-level Magical Beasts in the Underground World. It’s better to rely on oneself than on others."

Liu Zhenhan and Moer nodded in agreement, standing up together. What would happen next year, no one knew. For now, having a foundation to rely on, when the Demon Clan came, would certainly give them more confidence.

"The statue’s eyes suddenly blinked." Little Nun Joan of Arc suddenly clutched Liu Zhenhan’s arm in nervousness, pointing at the statue of Goddess Moni.

"Where?" Liu Zhenhan jumped in fright, immediately shielding the little nun behind him, staring intently at the Goddess Moni statue for a long time. The beautiful face wrapped in the ghostly green firelight did indeed have a perplexing reflection in its pupils, but it seemed there were no traces of blinking.

"I’m really annoyed by those two flames burning from Mermaid oil." Moer grew more infuriated the more she looked, "I bet these fuels must have been extracted from the bodies of twenty freshwater Mermaids. This temple of the great God Odin is so huge; it must be the Sacred Fire of ten thousand years!"

"Damn, isn’t it easy if you can’t stand it? Smash it!" Liu Zhenhan sneered viciously, bending one hand, and a heavy wooden stump was propelled by his Blood Magic, "clang" smashing toward the arm of Goddess Moni statue, one stump flew out, followed by another.

A series of earth-shattering noises frightened all the Beamon officers in the temple, with dust falling from the rafters covering their heads and faces. Countless bats "whooshed" across the hall, flinging their stinky guano over the military maps and sand tables.

Among the flying wood and stone, the two jade-carved arms of Goddess Moni were smashed into stumps, and without the illumination of the firelight, the Goddess Moni suddenly plunged into darkness, her face appearing ghostly due to the dark side shadows.

The Beamon officers were somewhat dazedly watching this Shaman of Divine Songs, not understanding his intentions. The Aegean Continent was a place with numerous gods; generally speaking, such acts were only verbally expressed. Vandalizing someone’s temple seemed too radical. So many ancient temple ruins had been perfectly preserved to this day because most people did not want to so blatantly desecrate a deity.

Clearly, the hands of Goddess Moni were hollow, a large amount of flying grease turning into a sky full of green sparks, fleecy like catkins, casting a blurry green light on the reliefs around the Goddess statue; lines of poems written in the universal language of the continent shimmered in and out of sight.

Due to the close distance and the Mermaid oil being light like catkins floating in the air, a big group of Beamon staff officers curiously gathered around, tilting their heads to appreciate the poems. Most of the Beamons present came from noble families, whether for the purpose of cultural pretense or scholarly heritage; they had some appreciation for poetry.

These poems, without exception, were overwhelmingly sappy praises of Goddess Moni’s brilliance and greatness. The river horse poet scoffed at them, seeing such occasion-serving poems as worthless; O’Neal thought he could write one in fifteen seconds.

There was a poem attributed with "In Celebration of the Dedication of the Odeon Temple," written in thick and bold lettering that seemed as if they were etched with blood. Due to the passage of time, the script had faded to a soy-black color, tinged with an undertone of crimson. Since the poem’s imagery carried an exceptional elegance, it instantly prompted many noble officers to recite it, even O’Neal couldn’t help exclaiming with a slap of his knee:

"That shaded pool beneath the elm, it is not a spring~

It is the clouds of heaven, crumpled amongst the floating weeds, settling into dreams like rainbows~

Laden with a ship of mermaids, they sing under the speckled starlight~

Seeking? I push a long pole, wading to where the river grass is even greener~

The summer insects too fall silent for me, grateful for another harvest~

Tonight, the luminous sacred fire of the Odeon Temple chants praises~

Destined to resonate for the Goddess Moni~"

Moer’s face neared the edge of fury, with "crackling" lightning playing between her fingers and occasionally shooting out like serpents. It was apparent to any fool that this poem was penned by a conceited butcher, boasting about capturing many "freshwater mermaids." By its title, it was made specially to celebrate the new dedication of the "Great Odeon Temple." Although the imagery and diction were breathtakingly exquisite, the thought of those eternal sacred fires lit by oil extracted from the living bodies of mermaids sent shivers down anyone’s spine.

"Heresy!" Helen shook her head vigorously, "This is definitely heresy! There isn’t a single religion on the Aegean Continent that doesn’t encourage benevolence. This is the first I’ve seen, and I hope also the last!"

"I will destroy it!" Moer snorted coldly, ready to take action, but she was held back by Liu Zhenhan grabbing her arm.

"If you destroy it, the dome of this temple might collapse," Liu Zhenhan pointed above to where the statue of the Goddess Moni was very close to the supporting beams of the dome.

"Then I’ll destroy these blood-soaked, worthless verses!" Moer said with hate in her voice.

"Don’t interfere!" Liu Zhenhan burst into laughter, "They wrote it, can’t you write too? Watch me, I’ll also compose a poem to join the fun for the Goddess Moni!"

A bunch of eyes stared strangely at this unsophisticated Shaman of Divine Songs, all a bit puzzled—could such a boorish man write poetry?

Under the scrutiny of everyone, Liu Zhenhan took a goose quill pen from the hands of a messenger, smashed an ink bottle on the table, dipped the quill generously in the ink, took a step forward, and lightly leaped onto the altar of the Goddess Moni. With swift strokes across the chest of the lion statue, he infused the pristine alabaster with sprawling black script.

Such beautiful handwriting!

All the Beamon present gaped, like fish on the verge of suffocation. The words "A Tribute to Goddess Moni" elegantly written by the Shaman of Divine Songs Richard, flowed like clouds parting from mountain peaks, water cascading down beaches, and were absolutely stunning!

How could such beautiful text come from a world-troubling bandit? Many Beamon pondered this question, utterly baffled.

If the Shaman of Divine Songs’ flamboyant handwriting garnered a standing ovation, the verses that followed struck like a hammer, pounding the hearts of all Beamon from their chests to their feet.

"War God above!" Prince Kahn swallowed hard, feeling utterly cold; he didn’t know which words could describe his feelings at that moment.

"Very angry words!" O’Neal bared a mouth nearly reaching his ears, and it took him a while before he muttered.

***

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