My Players Are So Fierce – Handsome dog Frank
Chapter 1208 - 408. Sir Morphy is not afraid of your chaos, but the moral demands of the Divine Spirit are obviously higher_3

Chapter 1208: 408. Sir Morphy is not afraid of your chaos, but the moral demands of the Divine Spirit are obviously higher_3

The bravado of private brawls and the murderous aura of a real battlefield are two utterly different things; only fools think that having blood on their hands means they can become valiant warriors.

But he had no plans to shatter the foolish illusions of his subordinates.

Destroying the false dreams of others is something that breeds resentment, so let these fools continue to bask in their impractical ambitions and willingly become cannon fodder under his command.

Hey, this cruel world is truly interesting.

Thinking this, Old Joel picked up his wooden spoon, ready to enjoy his late-night meal, but the moment he brought the soup to his lips, Joel suddenly twitched his nose.

"There’s something wrong with this soup! It’s been poisoned! It’s the Thorn Clan’s ’Paralyzing Kiss’! Fuck! Someone has snuck in! Grab your weapons!"

The old Tomb Robber leaped up, smashed his meat soup to the ground, and drew his serpentine short sword, ready to charge out, while the thick-necked man beside him seemed to sense a good opportunity, reaching for the Wam Slayer.

It seemed he planned to start his own "legendary career" tonight.

However, before his fingers could touch the handle of the legendary ax, a bone short sword of the Wolf People burst from the shadows with a ruthless ferocity, stabbing unreservedly into his thick neck.

Hidden in the shadow, Frostfang’s Claw, with tendrils of black smoke swirling about, wielded another bone dagger, kicking the thug to the ground amidst his painful moans and then, right before Old Joel’s eyes, held down the man’s head, covered with strange tattoos, and fiercely plunged the spike into his eye.

As the blade was withdrawn with a shattered eyeball, blood instantly splattered in all directions.

The shaking corpse crashed to the ground, and Frostfang’s Claw, who hadn’t announced his participation in tonight’s operation, shook the blood off his dagger. He stood between Old Joel and the burial goods, staring intently at the Tomb Robber before him with an indescribable anger and disgust.

Old Joel was now panicked.

Not only because he saw the Crimson Castle badge hanging on the assassin’s chestplate from Ya Ya, but also because he heard the camp outside had descended into chaos.

Amidst the robust cries of "Avalon above all!" it seemed like a Revenge Army had invaded the camp, and to make matters worse, Old Joel felt the ground trembling.

He knew well that there was only one kind of person who could cause such a level of earthquake tremor on the land nearby.

The Winged Cavalry!

The Winged Cavalry from Xike Territory had come to attack!

Their tomb robbing had been exposed, and now they would have to face the wrath of the descendants of Count Xike and the outburst from the forests.

"I can give you money!"

Old Joel shouted:

"I have three secret treasures! I even know the location of the Snegov family vault, spare my life! Pretend you never saw me!

I will give it all to you.

Brother, you’re a thief too, right?

Look, we’re in the same business, there’s no need to take things this far!"

In response to his plea for life, Ya Ya acted quite directly, grabbing his double-bladed weapon and pouncing, not giving Old Joel any chance to argue or persuade.

As they fought, Old Joel heard Frostfang’s Claw’s deep and indifferent voice:

"Tomb Robber! Never thought I would see such disgusting creatures in this new world, but here you won’t be sentenced, there’s no such merciful ending for you.

You’ve only got one way out—death!

To be frank...

I’m honored to serve as tonight’s executioner!"

Because it wasn’t just Brother Meow who had drawn attention from the Divine Spirits due to the tomb robbing incident; Lady Doris had also brought a vampire under the scrutiny of the God of Nature because she failed to keep her subordinates’ mouths shut, and the big sister didn’t have the good fortune of Sir Morphy, being watched by many Divine Spirits and still keeping her cool.

To put it bluntly, Doris was almost scared to death at the time.

Therefore, the determination of the leader of the Blood Rat Gang to resolve this issue now was in no way inferior to the players’ determination; unable to come in person, she could only send her best apprentice, and for Ya Ya, there was not the slightest hesitation in his resolve to partake in tonight’s slaughter.

Ya Ya had long grown tired of the damned tomb robbers’ folly with those precious cultural relics in reality, so for him, this was personal vendetta!

---

"56 heads represent the scrubbing away of disgrace, and the retrieval of the burial goods means that the Moutain Tribe can continue their sacred duty."

The following afternoon, at the tombs just outside of the ancestral woods, Count Shuren eyed the heads of the tomb robbers, ready to be set aflame as offerings to the ancestors, with disdain.

She turned back to Stick Brother and Brother Meow, saying,

"As a descendant of the Xikemeier Family, I’m truly grateful for everything you’ve done for my family, especially knowing these bastards dared to defile the remains of my ancestors...

I was about to make a huge mistake in my ignorance."

"It’s what we should do, my lord."

Brother Meow had also stopped thinking about the spoils of the tomb at this point.

The slaughter of the evildoers had lifted his divine punishment status, refreshing him and causing the thought that one really shouldn’t do bad deeds, and he a bit pretentiously responded to Count Shuren.

But the next second, Little Shuren shook her head.

She reached out and stroked the retrieved Wam Slayer Battle Ax, saying,

"It’s not right that this thing has been kept in the tomb; word getting out about this theft would mean my ancestors would never have peace.

Therefore, I intend to put this battle ax back to use.

It was fashioned by barbarian craftsmen 400 years ago specifically for my ancestors to use against the Black Disaster, and its use now will not dishonor my ancestors in the face of the impending Black Disaster.

I imagine that if my ancestors are watching from above, they would be proud of my decision."

The Little Count swept a glance at the warriors whose eyes were already lighting up.

She inwardly appreciated Sir Morphy’s useful advice, then segueing with a cough, said to the eager warriors in front of her,

"However, there is only one Wam Slayer and one set of my ancestor’s battle armor. I can only lend them out to the most valiant warrior.

Moreover, after the Black Disaster ends, after the suffering on this land ends, after the tragedy of Westerburg ends, after the Mountain People’s hatred of the foreign enemy ends, this battle ax must be returned to the tomb..."

"Ding"

The light chime from the Calculating Pearl signified another task had been triggered.

The expressions on Stick Brother and Brother Meow immediately fell.

Sure enough, it was a competitive task, requiring them to be active in the nearby ancestral woodland for the following month.

Only those warriors recognized unanimously by the Moutain People had the right to wield this legendary weapon.

"Damn it! I’m about to go till the land and repair the defenses, and there’s no way I’m coming back before the Black Disaster ends."

Stick Brother gave a regretful slap on Brother Meow’s shoulder, saying,

"I won’t compete for it, you take it."

"Heh heh, then I will not be polite, aow."

Brother Meow grinned and said,

"As a reserve of the Red Knight, I do indeed need a powerful divine weapon... Hey, don’t look at me like that, I know I was wrong, and I’ll tell the Little Count all the reasons, we’ll accept any punishment she has for us.

I’m willing to do this, the price of making mistakes here is indeed excessive.

It seems that even in games, one must not fool around."