Chapter 108: Chapter 108: Poor Turtles

Louis urged his horse forward, heading deep into the geothermal area of the Red Tide Territory.

However, as soon as they stepped into the outskirts, his warhorse began to grow restless, letting out anxious whinnies.

“Can’t go any further?” Louis tightened the reins, dismounted, and continued on foot.

Though autumn was upon them and the northern lands should have been icy cold, in this area, the ground temperature had already exceeded eighty degrees.

Even the thick-soled riding boots couldn’t block the burning sensation, as if walking on a scorching iron plate.

He took off the heavy wolf fur coat, wearing only a light shirt.

The fighting energy surged within him, forming a thin protective barrier against the incoming high heat.

Yet even so, he still felt as if he were being steamed, with sweat nearly soaking his back in an instant.

Before him lay a red-brown fissured area, with hot steam rising between the rock cracks, and over a dozen fire-backed turtles half-buried in the geothermal zone lazily and warily exhaling heat, occasionally raising their heads with shells glimmering a faint red.

This was the nesting place of the fire-backed turtles, the core of the geothermal eruptions, and the foundation of the Red Tide Territory.

Louis took a deep breath of the hot air and stepped toward the core area.

The Red Tide Knights had already been in the geothermal area for a while.

Without fighting energy protection, ordinary hunters could only offer some advice from the outskirts, leaving the actual action to the knights.

Their faces didn’t look good, indicating the operation wasn’t very successful.

“Report, my lord!” A knight hurriedly stepped forward, panting, “These fire-backed turtles are really tough to handle!

Although they aren’t aggressive, they’re highly alert, withdrawing into their shells at the slightest approach… Their defense is comparable to city walls, coupled with the high surface temperature, making it impossible to start!”

Louis fell silent for a moment, then made a decision: “Let’s pause for now, observe them first, and don’t provoke them.”

The knights nodded in agreement and went off to rest.

Louis stood on the scorching ground, carefully observing the fire-backed turtles.

He knew he must come up with a smarter method, and time was running short.

After half a day of observation, Louis finally noticed something unusual.

The fire-backed turtles were entering the mating season.

In the scorching geothermal area, a few scattered female turtles were surrounded by groups of male turtles.

The agitated males were breathing heavily, with eyes full of pent-up desire.

Whenever they got close to a female, they would tap their heads against the female’s shell, creating a crisp sound, which was the fire-backed turtle’s direct courting signal.

If a female was interested, she would lazily rub the ground twice, emitting a faint friction sound.

If not, she would retract into her shell, emitting scorching white mist, effectively warding off suitors.

But the females here were quite clever.

They neither nodded nor refused, just giving off a “there’s still a chance for you” attitude, keeping the males running in circles.

Some would rub the ground twice and then shrink back into their shells, letting the males hit nothing.

Others would show half their tails, attracting a group of males to fight each other, then casually spew a mist, leaving them rolling on the ground.

The savvier females simply extended their tongues, pointing at the ground, clearly indicating: bring food.

So the male turtles dragged their bulky bodies across the area, scavenging for charred lizards or shriveled stone fruits to pile in front of the females.

The females ate while being picky, leisurely chewing the delicacies the male turtles painstakingly gathered.

After filling their belly, they shook their shells slightly, leaving a hint of suggestion before continuing to dangle the males along.

Louis squinted his eyes, feeling the scene was somewhat familiar.

The sexual frustration of the males was reaching its peak.

They were restless, anxious, almost about to lose control.

A brilliant, devious plan sparked in Louis’ mind: “Perfect, let’s do something dirty. Operation Codename: Turtle Trap.”

He immediately ordered the knights to start collecting female turtle urine.

During the mating season, female turtle urine had a strong, acrid smell, like fire-roasted sulfur mixed with rotting mud, causing tears to flow.

The knights turned pale, but with the lord’s orders, they had no choice but to comply.

They pinched their noses, held bottles, and began cautiously collecting the urine.

To amplify the effect, Louis called on alchemists to mix other liquids with it, instantly magnifying the scent several times over.

The entire camp seemed covered with a thick stench, overwhelming even the bravest knights into fits of coughing.

Meanwhile, he also ordered craftsmen to weave some simple fake turtle shells from reeds.

Inside the fake shells, a few real small stones were suspended.

A slight swing could produce a sound similar to a female turtle rubbing against the ground.

With everything prepared, the plan commenced.

In the following day, Louis and the knights hid behind the hot rocky area, targeting those males who were tortured by sexual frustration.

These unfortunate creatures had their shells rubbed shiny, eyes almost on fire,

some even clutching rocks to relieve their loneliness, a pitiful sight to behold.

After confirming a target, Louis pulled out the fake turtle coated in the pungent female urine as bait.

A gentle tug on a thin vine, and the fake shell wobbled on the ground, emitting a suggestive rustling sound.

Coupled with the overwhelming “scent of love,” the effect was catastrophic.

The restless male stretched its neck, nostrils flaring, eyes almost popping out,

assuming a stance where even his mother wouldn’t be recognized, only his “wife.”

It let out a series of strange, deep growls, charging thunderously at the fake turtle,

Opportunity!

Louis immediately signaled.

Several knights, already prepared, moved swiftly, looping thick ropes soaked in the same female urine precisely around the male’s neck.

Vines pulled hard!

Accompanied by a deafening thud, the enthusiastic male was forcibly dragged into the cold iron cage.

The cold iron cage, heavy and sturdy, not only withstood full-force impacts from the fire-backed turtles but also isolated the high-temperature mist they spewed in fury and thirst.

Capture successful!

Within just two days, under Louis’ direct command, they consecutively captured four of the most restless, mindless, and hopeless male fire-backed turtles.

Though they continued to thrash around in the cages, letting out mournful, thirsty calls, ultimately their fervor was left unfulfilled.

“Poor little turtles,” Louis whispered to the firmly confined fire-backed turtles.

He didn’t waste time and immediately arranged for personnel to escort the fire-backed turtles to the Cold Fir Territory.

Even though these fire-backed turtles were far from being truly tamed, Louis aimed to transport them back to the Cold Fir Territory safely without excessive violence, laying the groundwork for future domestication.

The journey would take about four days.

To prevent any uprisings from the fire-backed turtles along the way, Louis specifically designed a simple mobile protection device.

He also had physicians concoct gentle herbs to lightly sedate the fire-backed turtles, keeping them in a semi-conscious state during the journey.

Amidst the autumn winds of the Red Tide Territory, Louis stood atop the Red Tide Castle, watching the distant transport team, hoping they reached their destination soon.

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