My Players Are So Fierce – Handsome dog Frank
Chapter 1259 - 425. From today onwards, the Wolf People ferryman on the River Styx will be renamed Hog_3

Chapter 1259: 425. From today onwards, the Wolf People ferryman on the River Styx will be renamed Hog_3

Being discovered was a trivial matter, but failing to carry out Tear Flesh Chieftain’s orders would be a serious issue. The Chieftain’s most fanatical corpse puppeteer, Lame Claw, could never have too many test subjects.

In the Pestilence Clan, where internal competition reached terrifying levels, the best fate for someone worthless was to become a "Necromancer."

The Plague Warlocks had already ceased to scold Hog for his stupidity. They huddled together, whispering among themselves, and finally reached an agreement. The Magician who had asked the previous question turned his head and glared at Hog with his one eye, saying fiercely,

"Detour! Take a detour immediately, bypass the Mage Tower and attack the armory and barracks from another direction!

You!

You imbecile who can’t get anything right!

If you tell me you haven’t even prepared an alternate route, I swear I’ll rip out your tongue!"

"There is one! There definitely is, I’ve prepared two routes for Lord Tear Flesh."

Hog, with a face full of fear, handed over the beast skin map, saying in a low voice,

"The second route is longer and more roundabout, but it doesn’t have any sentry posts nearby. However, we would have to enter East Prussia through the forest and walk along the border for half a day before circling back to the Andma Hills. But Lord Tear Flesh has expressly forbidden us to expand the war.

He won’t allow us to set foot on the land of East Prussia."

"Good words and bad, he’s said them all, the crafty old bastard!"

The Magician looking at the map cursed under his breath.

This fully proved that in the Pestilence Clan, Lord Tear Flesh’s reputation wasn’t actually that good, but his fist was big enough, and his Spiritual Energy fierce enough, to suppress all dissent.

"Go around it!"

A few minutes later, the Plague Warlocks reached a consensus. They returned the map to Hog, saying,

"Taking a longer route is better than facing a prepared Mage Tower, but all this delay and danger are due to your stupid intelligence failure, Hog! Once we get back to Pestilence Town, you’d better pray for your own luck.

You pathetic worm!"

On the surface, Hog looked utterly fearful and desperate, but inside, he was overjoyed.

Are you bastards thinking too far ahead? Even now, you still fantasize about making it back alive to Pestilence Town?

Hey, do you guys have some misunderstanding about the behavior of the Transia Barbarians?

If they let you all return in one piece, I might as well write my name Hog backward!

Meanwhile, at the top of the "Vampire Mage Tower," Miss Phemis, summoned by Murphy’s secret orders, was holding a Grimoire and reading.

The "Mage Tower" walls around her were covered in the rough texture of freshly dried cement, without any decoration inside.

It was a bare-shell building, with not even time to put on the Natural Psychic Power imprint.

The Tower had only been hastily erected by the Stonemason Brotherhood’s workers the night before. Although it was indeed part of the plan for the Transylvania Hundred Day Great Build and specifically for Countess Femis of Andma to construct a magic site on her territory, the problem was that the thing was just a "showpiece" for now.

The Spiritual Energy fluctuations it could emit all depended on Phemis herself invoking magic to resonate, in other words, the scouting results of the hunters from the Bloodclaw Clan were correct.

This thing is nothing more than a "windmill"!

It was just that the magicians from the Pestilence Clan were too cautious.

"Murphy has given me all these weird and wonderful names..."

At this moment, Miss Phemis alone in the Tower, tasked with "tactical intimidation," flipped through the notes in her hands and complained in her heart:

"I need a proper and intriguing organizational name to pique the curiosity of the warriors, not these juvenile self-proclaimed titles.

That bastard is definitely too deeply influenced by the eccentric style of his warriors.

I refuse to call myself the ’Supreme Mage’ of Karmathes. That’s a title not even Triss would dare to use—make use of it and wait for Psychic practitioners from across the Continent to line up to challenge you.

Oh—this name isn’t bad!"

Phemis turned a page, her eyes suddenly lighting up.

She flapped her wings and flew to the window, while operating Reconnaissance Magic to observe the changes on the border of Smugglers’ Forest, she thought to herself:

"Red Devil Hall... tsk tsk, it’s quite suitable for me, both literally and semantically, ha, those guys do get it right occasionally.

Huh?

They’re turning around? Are they that cautious?"

Thanks to the Seed of Life and the unique blood within her, Miss Phemis had an extra sense that allowed her to detect the Natural Psychic Power of the vegetation, setting her apart from other vampires.

She quickly sensed the change in Smugglers’ Forest and scorned it.

Speaking of which, I haven’t yet taken part in a real battle since achieving the Silver Tier, and I had planned to stretch my limbs tonight, but these Wolf People from the Dark Mountain Range are surprisingly timid.

Is this the practical case of the so-called "older the river, the smaller the courage" that those warriors often mention?

With these thoughts, she activated the Calculating Pearl and said to Murphy, who was waiting for news,

"The Wolf People have stepped onto the path you prepared for them..."

"Speak the password! Didn’t I stress this before?"

"What’s wrong with you! All this fuss for a lousy password... Fine, fine, ’The eagle has returned to the nest, the Hunter can draw the bow’."

Phemis replied with an annoyed expression. Murphy, on the other end, was finally satisfied. He said,

"Just trouble yourself to stay there for another 48 hours to monitor the ensuing actions. Also, Triss and I have come up with a code name for you.

From now on, you are the new client service ’FeiFei’ of the testing group..."

"I hate that name, Murphy! Give me another one!"

"Okay, you can call yourself ’Feier’."

"...Then keep it as FeiFei. Besides, I despise you, Murphy!"

"Please refer to the professional title at work. My dear FeiFei, now, if you would, call me Lord Alpha Administrator."