Chapter 60 - 57 Meeting

Chapter 60: Chapter 57 Meeting

Although located in the middle of Central Avenue, opposite the Huai Guang Church, the city hall is nominally the military and political center of Harrison Port.

But in actuality, Viscount Grant’s Mansion is the true heart of this city.

A serious middle-aged man arrived at the Viscount’s Mansion, and after handing over the two swords and a hand cannon that were slung around his waist, he reached the second-floor meeting room, guided by a servant.

This man, with his hair graying and wearing a suit of light leather armor, had a dignified appearance, but his face bore the signs of hardship, with a faint scar crossing his right eye, extending to the corner of his mouth.

The security officer and city defense officer of Harrison Port, Sir Yamm was once an apprentice to the knights serving under Old Viscount Grant. His teacher died from a totem spirit’s poison sting while fighting the natives to protect the old viscount, and he himself grew up practicing martial arts and training with the current Viscount Grant, eventually becoming a Sublimator with the viscount’s support.

They were both master and servant, childhood friends, and battle companions who had fought side by side through life and death.

Yamm entered the meeting room and found that, to his surprise, he was the last to arrive. Viscount Grant himself, the viscount’s staff, and Fiscal Officer Lamar were already seated at their respective positions, discussing the details of disaster relief and the gathering of people from the surrounding villages after the native attack.

Elder Prude, one of the White Folks, and Imur, the head of the Harrison Port Commerce Alliance, were pointing at a map of South Ridge hanging on the wall, discussing something unknown.

The spacious hall was filled with the refreshing scent of an invigorating incense. The greatest benefit of this costly spice was not actually to invigorate the spirit but to repel insects and suppress epidemics effectively warding off various shamanic curses and spirit-driven curses from the natives.

Including himself, these five individuals were currently the most powerful figures in Harrison Port.

And the true core was none other than Lord Viscount himself.

"Yamm, you’ve arrived?"

Upon seeing his capable assistant and good friend arriving, the normally stern-faced Viscount Grant’s expression eased slightly.

He stood up and gestured for the knight to sit down, "So, what exactly happened? Tell us everything."

"It’s related to the Pure Sacrifice."

But Yamm didn’t sit down; Viscount Grant could disregard it, but as a knight who observed etiquette, he wouldn’t relax before he had finished reporting.

He approached the conference table and reported in a methodical manner, "Thanks to the captive captured by Elder Prude, the information he disclosed corroborates with our informant’s message—the natives’ main objective in the attack was to plunder humans. A large number of women and children were taken away, sent into the swamp inside the Redwood Forest beside Ivorybone Mountain."

"Ordinary pure sacrifices of the natives only require about a dozen people, and larger ones only require thirty-two. They have enough internal strife to gather that number. But this time, the scale of the Pure Sacrifice is abnormally large; a rough estimate puts the number of abducted individuals at over one hundred fifty. One hundred ten people from Amp Village near Brown Elm Forest were taken, half murdered, half abducted, resulting in the annihilation of the village."

"These people can no longer be saved. By the time the informant reported, the natives had already killed them all, and their bones were tossed into the swamp."

Sir Yamm’s tone was dry, devoid of any emotion, but all present, including Viscount Grant, showed a slight change in expression, obviously shocked by the news.

"Just as I feared!"

Mixed with anger and a hint of shame, Viscount Grant was indeed not a man who loved his people like his children, but he still had a sense of honor and disgrace. He felt as if he had been viciously slapped by the natives and with some disbelief he said, "But they don’t need to kill so many people to awaken the Mountain Master!"

"Don’t they understand that by killing so many Imperial People, even if I don’t want to wage war, I must retaliate in kind!"

"They don’t want to fight either."

Sir Yamm said, taking out a rather thick brown elm leaf from his bosom, and handed it to Viscount Grant: "The twelve tribes inclined towards us stated that they knew nothing of this before the Great Shaman issued the summoning order—the natives also find this action very sudden and unbelievable, and even resent it, for they have grown accustomed to our traded goods, tools, and refined salt, and can’t bear the disruption of trade."

"But the orders of the Great Shaman are absolute."

"Why hasn’t that old bastard died yet?"

Muttering under his breath, Viscount Grant took the native leaf paper and read the content. His brows furrowed tightly, "All shamans gathering at Ivorybone Mountain? The Forest Sea is in turmoil? They are planning to wage a full-scale war? No, it’s just the shamans gathering, the chieftains haven’t been summoned yet..."

"It seems to be a ritual."

Viscount Grant looked up, puzzled, "That old monster has been asleep for over forty years and is indeed about to heal its wounds... But didn’t it briefly awaken eight years ago, protecting those natives in the storm? Its injuries must have worsened again."

"Perhaps that’s why this pure sacrifice requires an especially large number of people."

Yamm offered a possibility, and Viscount Grant fell into thought, "Could it be that that undying old one intends to not just awaken the Mountain Master but... let it advance even further?"

The Mountain Master, also known as the Spirit of the Mountain Tide, along with the Rising Tide Spirit, the Drum Wave Spirit, and the Forest Ocean Spirit, is one of the major Totem Spirits worshipped by the Redwood Natives.

Of course, from the perspective of the Imperial People, these Totem Spirits are nothing more than some rare Wise Magical Beasts, with the weakest at the First Energy Level and the strongest barely at the Second Energy Level. They are not particularly rare, and at most, because they possess wisdom and can communicate with humans, they are somewhat more troublesome.

But unlike ordinary Totem Spirits.

Magical Beasts with titles such as ’Mountain Master’ that are worshipped by the natives are far stronger than their peers of the same level.

They’re not only cunning and difficult to deal with, they also possess long lifespans, powerful vitality, and even great potential to advance to the Third Energy Level, becoming rampaging entities that even armies found difficult to annihilate—known as ’Differently-Named Demons’ and ’Nest Masters’.

Viscount Grant pondered because of this dangerous possibility.

In those days, the Mountain Master and several other Totem Spirits were defeated by his father, Old Viscount Grant, who led a contingent of knights and the Empire Immigrant Group to pioneer here and establish Harrison Port. He even went to lengths to slay one of them.

The Spirit of the Mountain Tide almost met the same fate. If not for the natives desperately using their lives as shields, that creature from the swamp wouldn’t have had the chance to escape and return to hibernation within the swamp.

But this doesn’t mean the adversary was weak—Old Viscount Grant and Sir Yamm’s teacher both suffered grievous injuries during that battle. The former, a peak Second Energy Level Elite Knight, passed away prematurely five years after the battle, while the latter succumbed to a deep poisoning and died soon after returning to town.

"Thinking of stacking up lives to reach the Third Energy Level? Wishful thinking."

Remembering the aged look his father had when entrusting Harrison Port to him, Viscount Grant let out a cold laugh and looked up at the knight, "Yamm, prepare the guard squad and the alchemy cannons for tomorrow, and have those cooperative tribes stay clear."

"The day after tomorrow, I want to see the natives’ peripheral tribes all burnt to ash—blasting our way down to the foot of Ivorybone Mountain!"

After Yamm nodded, Viscount Grant turned his gaze towards Fiscal Officer Lamar on the other side, "How about it, can our harbor’s finances support this?"

"Pay and pensions are within the budget." The young Fiscal Officer with auburn midi hair and a gentle face, cradling documents, spoke softly as he lowered his head, seemingly a bit shy, "It’s just the expenditure on alchemy cannons... the gap is quite large, and panshard sand and gunpowder dust are strategic materials heavily regulated by the Imperial Capital... We won’t last many days before assistance from the capital arrives."

His pupils were red, giving off a distinct passion, and though he was very mild-mannered, no one underestimated him, but rather listened intently to the young man’s words.

"Leave the gap to me."

Imur from the Commerce Alliance was a portly, balding man with a thick beard who stood up with practiced ease upon hearing Lamar’s words, patting his chest confidently to take on the expenditure, "Combating the natives opens up safe trade routes. They dare to wipe out villages this time; who knows what they’d dare next time—I can hardly bear to imagine!"

"I’ll take care of maintenance." Elder Prude followed smoothly, "With the rainy season upon us, we must ensure the cannonballs remain dry, and we can add more incendiary to the priming charge to make sure the forest burns even in the rain."

The Alchemy Cannon was a modification by Elder Prude using Dwarven craftsmanship, capable of displaying different effects based on the type of alchemical potions loaded. This was also the primary job of the White Folks in Harrison Port.

"That settles it then." Viscount Grant was quite satisfied.

The attendees, except for Lamar who had joined as a ’newcomer’ in these last ten years, had been old partners who worked together for over thirty years. Although not united in heart and spirit, when facing the natives, they all stood on the same side.

Next, everyone discussed the specifics for a while, and the allocation of supplies and supply lines for the upcoming combat needed to be determined in advance.

This time they were not launching a surprise attack, but mounting a forceful assault knowing that the natives were on guard, so full preparation was necessary.

After establishing the appropriate procedures, the meeting came to an end, and everyone departed in turn, ready to carry out their respective tasks.

However, just as Elder Prude was about to leave, he was called back by Viscount Grant.