My Players Are So Fierce – Handsome dog Frank
Chapter 1343 - 453. Poor Hog, what’s the point in ruling over a bunch of crippled and inferior breeds? - [Extra 20/25]_3

Chapter 1343: 453. Poor Hog, what’s the point in ruling over a bunch of crippled and inferior breeds? - [Extra 20/25]_3

"Furthermore, the key to power lies in the user, not the power itself. I don’t even plan to get involved in your battle against those troublesome giant snakes, but I have indeed brought you what you need the most.

It is impossible to eradicate the giant snakes of the Polluted Swamp head-on. You cannot understand the tight connection between the swamp and those snakes. In the rumors of the dusk, it wasn’t the snakes that found the swamp; this swamp was born for the giant snakes.

This is their home!

You must understand the meaning of ’home.’

In their home, they are hard to be truly hurt, so if you want to take what they guard, you’ll have to find another way.

However, I know such thoughts are still too burdensome for the minds of the Dark Mountain Jackals, so you don’t need to ask too much. When I arrive, you will naturally know how we can help you.

But first, I must relay an order from Lord Source to you!

After I help you obtain the secret treasures of the King of Bone Biting, you must leave your clan and your army behind, right here in the swamp.

I will have use for them."

"Hmm?"

Tear Flesh sensed an unspeakable ill omen in these words and squinted its eyes to ask:

"Do you intend to use my tribesmen as expendables? What are you planning to do here?"

"Um, the new ruler of Transylvania is eager to build achievements, and Governor Morphy is desperate to spread his authority beyond this swamp. His activity and good fortune have already transformed him from an unnoticed minor character into a troublesome factor that needs to be eliminated.

It seems some figures in the organization are no longer willing to see Sir Morphy living so comfortably."

The person across snorted and said:

"Therefore, using the Polluted Swamp as a tomb for Governor is very appropriate. Since a great figure is about to be buried, we must out of courtesy prepare ’funeral goods’ befitting his status.

Does this make you uneasy, Mr. Tear Flesh? Surely your concern for your apprentices and tribesmen hasn’t reached such a level of mollycoddling?

After all, only a part of the strength of your clan is entering the Polluted Swamp.

Many more and younger tribe members wait in the shadowy valleys of the beast lairs near Burning Peak, under your guidance. If you bury yourself in the swamp, would you not be destroying the future hopes of your clan?

Sacrificing a bunch of lowly fools to secure a bright future for your own clan seems like a very profitable deal."

"You needn’t try to convince me. I will make my own decisions."

Tear Flesh did not give a definite answer.

It said:

"Let’s focus on completing our current task first. This matter has already been delayed for too long."

"Yes, don’t count your chickens before they hatch, a very practical approach to work, which I admire."

The person opposite replied in a relaxed tone:

"Let’s leave it at that, then. We’ll continue our discussion in detail after I arrive at your stronghold tomorrow night. Please be prepared; I’m not someone who likes to waste too much time on tasks that aren’t mine.

Let’s deal with the Legendary Creature and the secret treasures of the King of Bone Biting as quickly as possible, and then, everyone on their own path..."

"I am looking forward to it."

Tear Flesh coldly responded and stopped the communication spell on the pearl bracelet.

Trembling, it rose to its feet and strode pensively to the edge of its Wizard Tower, peering out the small window to survey the situation of the entire Pestilence Town.

It saw its apprentices busily preparing for war under its orders.

They were working back and forth tirelessly, but even without activating a listening spell, Tear Flesh could guess the filthy words they were exchanging. They were all cursing the old immortal atop the high tower, the cowardly leader who dared not face the enemy head-on.

Rebellion is an attitude.

It’s an intangible thing that doesn’t need the eyes to discern.

The rebellious always exude an aura that clearly conveys hostility to those they seek to resist, just like a group of cruel, hungry younglings waiting for the old leader to draw its last breath to feast on its flesh...

"You think power can win everything. It’s time to test your theory, my apprentices, you’ve brought this upon yourselves!"

Tear Flesh gripped its Soul Bone Staff, steeling its resolve.

Since these magicians were not the pillars they hoped could support the future of the clan after its death, it might as well leave them all in this swamp.

It still had some time to slowly choose, to slowly search for the right successor in its clan.

The Pestilence Clan needed a more enlightened, wiser, and more farsighted chieftain.

It must be more talented, ambitious, and cunning than itself to lead the clan safely through the chaotic times to come.

Whether the Black Disaster will successfully conquer the continent remains an unknown; placing all of the clan’s bets on the foolish military governors of the Moss Valley was too early and reckless.

"Hog..."

In this moment of difficult decision-making, Tear Flesh again oddly thought of the small Transylvanian Dark Mountain Jackal Tribe Chief.

Although their powers and statuses were worlds apart, Tear Flesh couldn’t help but fantasize that if Hog had been a trueblood Dark Mountain Jackal, if Hog had been born in its clan, it wouldn’t have to worry so much about a successor now.

Alas, it wondered how the slim youngster was faring now?

With the vampires and humans of Transylvania mounting such a large-scale invasion of the swamp, it feared that Hog’s pathetic little clan must have already perished in the onslaught of the vampire’s swamp warfare.

Unless, it surrendered to the vampires and miraculously gained acceptance, but in the face of the impending chaos, did that crafty one really have the guts and the courage to make such a decision?

Sigh, what a waste of such divine cunningness, such a precious wisdom for the Dark Mountain Jackals.