The Lich of Glory Knight Spirit: Moving towards Krimasha!
Chapter 315 - 45: Father and Son Conflict (2)_2

Chapter 315: Chapter 45: Father and Son Conflict (2)_2

"Where are they hiding?"

"Search around again. They definitely won’t be hiding too close, otherwise we would have sensed their presence. But they can’t be too far either."

"Pay attention to the ground! The Hydra’s movements will leave distinct traces!"

"The traces on the ground seem to have been cleared, up until this point!"

"Keep searching! We’re bound to find something overlooked!"

"Alright!"

Jones’ heart was pounding violently.

Six or seven members of the Blood Clan scattered, carefully searching the ground inch by inch for traces.

Jones felt like his heart was about to leap out of his chest. He leaned back against the rock where he was hiding, blinking nervously.

He had cleared some of the Hydra’s movements’ traces, but the noise was too large and time was too tight; it was impossible to erase everything, so he managed to clear only part of it. Additionally, he had fabricated some false traces, though whether they could deceive the Blood Clan remained uncertain.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have had the Hydra and the dwarves hide in the same place. If the situation became truly unbearable, at least the dwarves could remain safe.

"No, no... Once they’re in the tunnels, it’s the dwarves’ territory. There are over seventy adult dwarves in total. Even if ten ordinary Blood Clan members enter, they won’t be able to handle them." Jones muttered to himself, taking deep breaths repeatedly.

"There’s a trace here!"

From afar, a voice echoed from behind. Jones hurriedly turned over and pressed against the rock to sneak a peek.

"This one’s fake. No need to look at it further. There are no scale patterns on top. That cunning brat actually tried to trick us with this method. Unfortunately for him, this isn’t our first time dealing with Hydras. Heh heh. Keep searching!"

"Yes!"

"There’s a trace over here too!"

"This one’s real! It has scale patterns!"

A large group of Blood Clan members began gathering toward the direction of the voice.

Jones felt a wave of despair—this direction was indeed the real one.

It wasn’t even that late yet. It was only around ten o’clock in the evening, and there were still at least five hours before Dora could arrive at Salted Fish Port. The opposition had already locked onto the location... how long could Jones stall them?

Jones crouched low and quietly slipped into a nearby mine shaft.

Although the gold mine was still in its early stages of extraction, the dwarves had dug many tunnels for exploration purposes that were interconnected, forming a labyrinth-like structure. Fortunately, Jones had been involved in the exploration and knew the paths.

Once inside a tunnel, Jones broke into a sprint, quickly looped around, and arrived at the dwarves’ hiding spot. Unable to use magic or transform into a bat, he was gasping for breath, completely exhausted.

The hiding spot was a pile of rubble—more accurately, a freshly piled mound of rubble. Jones had instructed the dwarves to use the rubble to seal off all entrances to the hiding space, leaving only a few air holes. Without solid evidence, anyone passing by would merely assume it was an ordinary pile of stones. Of course, it would be another story if the intruders were Blood Clan members...

The Blood Clan’s magical talent and sensory perception vastly exceeded those of the dwarves. Even through the rubble, they could sense the dwarves inside... and the Hydra.

The pile of stones only served as simple defensive protection.

Scrambling on all fours, Jones climbed up the rubble pile and slipped through one of the reserved air holes.

The interior was pitch-black—truly pitch-black, with not a glimmer of light. Even the Blood Clan, famed for their exceptional night vision, would be blinded here.

"Hey... are you all alright?" Jones asked softly.

"Little bat, is that you?" The Hydra’s voice echoed.

"Lord, you’ve returned?" A dwarf’s voice followed.

"It’s me." Jones wheezed heavily, quickly replying, "They’ll likely reach here soon. Adelle’s team hasn’t arrived yet. We’ll need to hold on ourselves for a while."

"How do we hold on? Should we engage directly?"

"I fear that’s our only option. If we let them strike first, we’ll lose any advantage."

"Little bat, this space is far too cramped. If we fight, I’m afraid we might hurt you."

"Lady, just stay put. We’ll handle it. Blood Clan physiques are nowhere near as sturdy as dwarves’—as long as we find ways to disrupt their spellcasting, we stand a chance."

"Understood."

...

"Lord Jones! You must hold on until Dora arrives!" In the night sky, Dora flapped her wings furiously, flying as fast as she could.

...

"How many people are there?" Adelle asked his butler.

"There are fifty in total, young master," the butler replied. "This includes ten guards, twenty temporary recruits, and twenty Blood Clan slaves."

"Only ten guards? Where are the others?"

"It’s already a considerable number, young master. We can’t take away the guards stationed at the castle. The lord just left recently and took twenty guards with him."

Gazing at the fifty Blood Clan members gathered before him, Adelle pinched his forehead tightly, his brows furrowed.

Fifty Blood Clan members—although it sounded impressive, it wasn’t really the case.

The Deacon Council, Adelle knew, was an organization entirely composed of high-ranking Blood Clan members. The fifty individuals under his command—aside from the guards—were less competent. Although the guards weren’t high-ranking Blood Clan members, being guards implied their combat capabilities couldn’t be low. As for the remaining forty, their competence left much to be desired.

Half of them were women, some even looking underage. They appeared confused and unsure of why they were there. With this lineup, how could they fight? Could they succeed?

Yet, given the pressing circumstances, what choice did Adelle have? Against other opponents, Adelle could still mobilize reinforcements. If his enemy were members of Elder Council or Deacon Council, things would get complicated—some allies might even turn on him instead.

"Young Master Adelle," the butler hesitated and then suggested, "perhaps... we shouldn’t go. This matter is too significant—Young Master Jones would surely understand."

"No, we must go." Adelle declared firmly, "This is a matter of brotherhood. If I don’t step in when he’s in trouble, how can I expect him to do the same for me?"

"But we won’t win even if we go..."

"Winning or not is a matter of strength. Choosing to go is a matter of morals." Glancing helplessly at the butler, Adelle moved to a higher vantage point and spoke loudly, "Everyone listen closely. Tonight, you all act according to my orders. No matter who the opponent is, if I command you to strike, you strike! After tonight, guards and employees will be richly rewarded! Slaves will be granted freedom!"

With that, Adelle gestured, prompting a group of zombie-like guards to carry out chests filled with Gold Coins, placing them before the Blood Clan members.

The Blood Clan members froze. Before them lay at least three hundred thousand Gold Coins.

Grabbing a handful of Gold Coins, Adelle gritted his teeth and said, "These! Are yours! And this is only a part! When we return, there will be more!"

All the Blood Clan members held their breath at once.

No one was foolish—all understood that such generous rewards came with a price!

Amid their collective awe, in a corner, a female Blood Clan member seized the opportunity to sneak away unnoticed by Adelle.

...

"My god, how much money did that brat get his hands on? Setting slaves free? Has he gone mad?"

"No idea, but Hayman claims his son has freed all the dwarf slaves. Judging by the size of the village, there must be close to a hundred dwarves."

"I’ve heard of freeing Blood Clan slaves, but it’s my first time hearing someone freeing dwarf slaves. Do those midgets even need freedom? Aren’t they just tools for smithing and mining? Would the Elder Council even recognize such an agreement?"

"Doesn’t matter. The order’s clear—we capture any dwarves we find without mercy, sell them, and ignore whatever agreements or negotiations. Slaves have no right to bargain."

The whispers carried down the narrow tunnel, accompanied by faint flickers of firelight.

Jones could clearly sense the nearby dwarves’ breathing becoming heavier.

The dwarf nicknamed "Barrel" muttered under his breath, "I just want to act now—smash their heads in."

"I do too, but now isn’t the time. Wait until they get a little closer," Jones replied softly. "If we lure all of them here, we definitely can’t win. But if we don’t act first, we won’t even survive this wave. Everyone follow my orders carefully. Strike quickly—injure them, but don’t kill."

"Why can’t we kill them?"

"I don’t want to create more problems. Besides, we need hostages. Understand?"

"Got it."

"Understood."

"Understood."

In the pitch-dark tunnel, the dwarves responded in scattered whispers.