Chapter 11: Chapter 11: The Poison Arrow Tribe’s Night Raid

A rustle came from the dense thicket, and the first things to poke out were several pairs of eerie green eyes.

They were identical to the Forest Wolves slaughtered during the day. Their eerie green eyes glowed fiercely in the twilight, their ferocious expressions paired with low, roaring growls. Clearly, they were a vengeful pack that had followed the lingering scent of blood in the air.

And in the shadows behind the Wolf Pack, an even more horrifying sight lay hidden.

Seven or eight Ratmen lurked in the thorn bushes, their bodies hunched over. The sharp claws protruding from beneath their Worn Leather Armor glinted coldly.

Some of these gray-furred creatures carried sharpened, broken spears, while others clutched sharp blades made from bone shards. Their tattered clothes were flecked with dried grass, marking them as predators who had long made these woods their home.

At this moment, they and the Wolf Pack had formed a strange symbiotic relationship. The Ratman Leader even gave a soft whistle with a Bone Whistle tied with a beast tooth, directing the Wolf Pack to adjust its encirclement formation.

“Bakadi Leader, are we really going to provoke this human?”

Sweat beaded in the palm of one of the gray-furred Ratmen as he gripped his broken spear, his whiskers twitching nervously in the twilight.

“I once overheard some humans talking—creatures like this, who suddenly descend upon our world, are all Divine Chosen Lords selected by the Deities. Not only do they possess immense power, but they can also summon massive, powerful armies with a wave of their hand.”

“What’s even crazier is,”

“these Divine Chosen Lords are said to be immortal.”

As the gray-furred Ratman lowered his voice, his tail unconsciously wrapped around a nearby thorn branch.

“Even if you slice off their heads, they’ll be up and running around the next day, full of life. You won’t even find a single scar…”

The Ratman Leader, called Bakadi, spat out a piece of grass. His Beast Tooth Necklace swayed on his chest, glinting coldly.

“Divine Chosen Lords?”

“Immortality?”

He rubbed the blood groove on his Bone Whistle, his gaze sweeping over the Wolf Pack poised to strike.

“Diablo.”

“Do you know of the Withered Leaf Tribe to the south?”

As he spoke, Bakadi forced out a sharp, cold laugh, revealing his pointed fangs as a leather bracer brushed past his lips.

“A few days ago, they sent a Messenger saying they had conquered a castle that ’fell from the sky.’ Even the human Lord hiding inside became their prisoner.”

“I don’t know if that human Lord is one of these ’Divine Chosen Ones’ you speak of, and I couldn’t care less if he can regrow his head after it’s been cut off.”

The speaker tapped the thick, resinous tree trunk with the back of his Bone Blade—TAP, TAP. His gaze pierced the hazy night fog, settling on the imposing silhouette of the Lord’s Hall in the distance.

Outlined by the waning moon, the blue-gray stone walls looked as sharp as if hewn by an axe. A triangular flag on the arrow tower’s battlement snapped in the wind. Bright yellow light streamed from the arrow slits, illuminating the high dome until it resembled a colossal metal beast squatting in the wilderness. Every crack between the stones radiated an inviolable majesty.

“But I do know.”

“That bunch of damn rats to the south.”

“They’re now stomping around in a human’s Stone castle, whipping rows of human slaves. Their tribe’s power is growing rapidly, and they’ve already annexed several other Ratman Tribes.”

“Even worse.”

“They’re reaching into our territory.”

“They’re demanding we surrender, become their vassal tribe, and fly the bone totems of their ancestors.”

With that, Bakadi snorted, stabbing his Bone Blade deep into the tree beside him. The impact shook the gnarled roots, making them tremble.

Splintering wood chips, mixed with dark brown sap, flew in a sharp arc through the twilight.

“Hah!”

“That pack of runts to the south, who don’t even have decent weapons, managed to capture a ’Divine Chosen Lord’ just by digging traps and gnawing on tree roots!”

As he lifted his chin, his Bone Blade spun a half-circle in his palm, glinting coldly. The beast tooth embedded in its spine scraped against the tree trunk with a piercing shriek.

“We have a Wolf Pack at our feet that can rip out a bear’s throat, and our quivers are filled with arrows tipped with deadly poison!”

“We’re big enough to crush them like stones, and our claws are sharper than their pathetic Bone Blades!”

“So why can’t we do the same?”

The gray-furred Ratman named Diablo wrung his forepaws, his whiskers trembling in the shadows.

“Yes.”

“Bakadi Leader.”

“I know our tribe’s Warriors are much stronger than that bunch of rats to the south.”

“But those humans in their silks and satins… the secrets they keep are as numerous as rats in a burrow, and the knowledge in their books is said to be powerful enough to make flowers bloom from stone.”

He couldn’t help but lower his voice as he continued to plead his case:

“Even their own high-ranking nobles—the ones with powerful armies, mysterious Magic, sharp weapons, and strange technologies—don’t dare to provoke these Divine Chosen Lords who fall from the sky.”

“Isn’t it too dangerous for us to rush in so recklessly?”

“What if?”

“We observe them for a while longer?”

Bakadi roared.

“You fool!”

“Diablo!”

“Shut your mouth!”

“If you’re so afraid of dying, then get the hell out of here!”

“I won’t miss one coward!”

“But if you dare spout any more nonsense that affects everyone’s morale—or worse, our raid tonight—I’ll cut out your tongue!”

“Do you hear me?”

Diablo saw the Bakadi Leader’s eyes wide with fury, a brutal, unquestionable violence swirling within them. A murderous chill seemed to coalesce around him, as if he were ready to strike at any moment.

Diablo gulped, swallowing the words that were about to escape his lips.

The words concerning his tribe’s very survival obediently retreated, lying dormant on the tip of his tongue like a frightened cub, daring not to move.

’It couldn’t be helped.’

’The Bakadi Leader’s word was iron law in their Ratman Tribe.’

’I have to obey his commands.’

’Even if this decision doomed the entire Ratman Tribe to a point of no return.’

’Sigh…’

’I have a bad feeling about this…’

’I hope it’s just my imagination, a result of not sleeping well last night…’

With the “disharmonious” voice in their ranks silenced, the Ratmen lowered their bodies and crept cautiously behind the Wolf Pack, stepping in their footprints as they slowly advanced on the mysterious Lord’s Hall.

That is, until they entered the range of Qin Feng’s “Eagle Eye.”

In the Darkness, the stone walls of the hall, which should have blocked his view, suddenly became as transparent as a thin mist, clearly revealing the silhouettes of the stalking Wolf Pack.

It also revealed the red health bars and info panels above their heads.

’Huh?’

’Forest Wolves?’

’Do these guys really hold such a grudge?’

’Raiding my territory in the middle of the night?’

’Wait!’

’Something’s not right!’

’There’s another group of enemies!’

’What are those things? Ratmen? A Native Power?’

…

[Enemy Name: Poison Arrow Tribe Ratman (Red Name)]

[Life Value: 36/36]

[Power Assessment: Zero-star (White)]

[Description: Members of a Ratman Tribe dwelling in the Northern Forest. Their leader has mastered a Secret Technique for taming the Wolf Pack. Their elite Warriors also know how to use bows and arrows, and they enjoy coating their arrowheads with a poison concocted from various forest plants. A successful hit inflicts continuous poison damage on the enemy.]

…

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