Chapter 124: Chapter 116 Advantages and Disadvantages (3/4)
At dusk, the lake forest to the east of Harrison Port suddenly experienced violent tremors, initially causing panic among the nearby hunters who thought it was an earthquake, but soon even the city folk became aware of the anomaly.
The billowing dust rose like a volcano erupting into the sky, creating a long, straight cloud wall on the ground that not even a torrential downpour could immediately wash away. The metallic clangor that reverberated through it echoed with the thunder above.
Like thunder bursting forth from the earth.
"Whatâs happened?"
Within his bedroom, Viscount Grant got up from his bed in a mix of shock and anger, but he couldnât ignore the distant fluctuations of Source Quality that reached him.
Hurriedly dressing, he instructed the red-haired woman beside him to tidy herself up. Then, activating his Source Quality, Viscount Grant flew to the top of the Viscountâs Mansion to gaze toward the intense disturbances in the lake forest.
At the same time, Sir Aam and Lamar had also hurried to the Viscountâs Mansion, evidently having noticed that something was amiss in the distance.
"Two Sublimators at the Second Energy Level Peak who possess earth attributes are fighting..."
As the Viscount descended from midair, he succinctly briefed his core team on what he had observed: "One might be that Inspector Knight, the other I donât recognize, a complete stranger, but he doesnât seem like one of the Natives either."
"Which side do we help?"
Lamarâs eyebrows furrowed as she straightened Viscount Grantâs collar. Then, with gravity, she said, "No matter what the trouble is, the emissary from the Imperial Capital canât die here... but it would be best if he did."
"Indeed, it would be best if he died, but letâs not help either."
Sir Aam shook his head: "Who knows if this isnât trouble the Melodious Knight brought upon himself? Everyone is aware of the reputation those Inspector Knights haveâno surprise if one dies anywhere."
He turned to the Viscount, wearing a serious expression: "Some scouts from the Tenglan Tribe just came, saying Melodious has discovered that weâre trying to win over the Natives and jointly deceive the support from the Imperial Capital... Heâs demanding eight hundred Talle, plus another five hundred for giving us a favorable evaluation, and he even gave us his seal."
"Had my father not also been an Inspector Knight, I might have thought this line of work has always been so greedy."
Viscount Grant clicked his tongue: "A thousand and three hundred Talle, not much, but who knows what kind of person heâs got himself involved with."
"Iâm willing to pay, but he might not live through it."
As he finished speaking, he turned to Lamar: "Itâs best if no one helps. As long as we donât act, we can claim ignorance. If we do get involved and find out the other party is a guard sent by some great noble to silence someone, what then?"
"The overt conflicts and secret struggles between those great nobles and the royal family have nothing to do with an ordinary Viscount like me from the countryside. Let them fight however they wantâwe still have to guard against the Natives."
With that, Viscount Grant scoffed, looking toward the distant dust: "Aam, go fetch Pude, mobilize the Alchemical Cannons. If anyone dares to approach the city, bombard them. And donât forget about the Nativesâsend more scouts."
"Lamar, go get the recording device from my secret vault and capture all of this. If Melodious Knight ends up dead, send the recording through a private channel to the Imperial Capital, saying it was accidentally captured by an anonymous civilian."
With such instructions issued, the Viscount reminded her, "If we end up having to use the cannons, turn off the recording device in advance and claim our energy supply is insufficient. Ask for more assistance."
"Will this really work? The excuse is too poor. Moreover, doesnât this expose us as the photographers?"
Lamar, of course, would do as Viscount Grant instructed, but the simplicity and absurdity of it all seemed almost childish, leaving her somewhat perplexed: "Just like that? And still ask for assistance? How could the Imperial Capital possibly give it to us, when their envoy is attacked here? "
"Donât think politics is that difficult; moreover, this truly has nothing to do with us."
The Viscount shook his head: "Weâre country folk; making things too complicated would instead make the Imperial Capital suspicious of ulterior motives."
"Right, donât forget to use that guyâs seal to write us a good evaluation."
Elsewhere, Ian also noticed the commotion in the lake forest.
"The fight has begun."
Drawing a deep breath, the youth, though heavy-hearted, wasnât lost in thought for long due to his mental preparations: "Itâs between my teacher and that knight... No matter who wins, I have to be ready."
Turning his head, he looked towards his brotherâs room, sighing: "But before that, I have to move Elan to safety."
At this very moment, the mist around Elan still glowed a dim crimson.
The black fog intermingled with blood, never abating.
It was not only Viscountâs Mansion and Ian.
The natives too sensed turmoil from the direction of Harrison Port.
"Shh... Donât make any rash moves."
At the cavernous base of the Great Redwood Forest, where countless roots twisted together to form a depression as vast as a small lake, filled with dew transpired by the roots.
A colossal crocodragon lay quietly in this dewy lake, its body covered in scars and wounds, with a particularly extensive blast wound on its flank.
The behemothâs six eyes were tightly closed, as if in deep slumber, but as distant battle tremors reached it, it suddenly awoke, its six pairs of crimson eyes fixating on the distance, the pure fury of the beast piling up in its gaze, making it want to move.
But a weak voice from above halted the behemothâs actions, "Indeed, it is the Imperial People fighting amongst themselves... but this does not mean we can take advantage."
Atop the behemoth, amidst the sturdy spikes, a blurry humanoid figure that seemed almost fused with the crocodragonâs flesh and blood slowly spoke, "We cannot defeat either side."
The weary yet calm voice of the Great Shaman arose: "Rest... Lord of the Mountain Tide, the Spirits of the Forest Sea are using their Origin Quality to heal you; donât squander our good will."
"The Spirits of Tenglan are also resting. Right now... we donât have the strength to fight Harrison Port."
With reluctance and a low growl, the crocodragon once again slowly closed its eyes.
Yet, the humanoid figure turned its head, its pupil-less eyes gazing towards the east.
"Strange..."
The shell left by the Great Shaman Animu muttered perplexedly to itself, "Why does the aura of the one who is wounded and at a disadvantage remain stable..."
"While the aura of the completely dominant side is gradually fading?"
Lake Forest.
In the torrential rain, fog laced with mud and water spread out, and the figures engaged in fierce combat momentarily parted.
Once again, Weygesâs assault was repelled. The old knight merely executed a simple downward sword swing, directly throwing off his opponentâs balance. The Melodious Knightâs bone rock giant sword nearly slipped from his grasp, and he had to keep moving backward to stabilize himself and avoid falling to the ground.
But even more grave in countenance was Hiliard.
"Haha, old man, running out of stamina?"
Weyges, his bone armor shattered and with several deep, bone-revealing wounds across his chest and abdomen, bleeding profusely, staining half of his white armor red, laughed heartily. His dark green eyes filled with delight, "Mentor, youâve lost by not killing me in the first ten minutes!"
"Huff..."
Faced with his former apprenticeâs arrogant proclamation, Hiliard did not respond. He simply took deep breaths, his aged face laden with exhaustion.
The old manâs towering figure remained firm; not a single wound was upon him, not even mud from the battle on his coat, proving that he had managed the previous combat with ease, a one-sided crush.
Yet, it was he whose energy was waning.
The wounds on Weyges were indeed severeâHiliardâs sword had pierced through his chest plate into his right lung and another strike had penetrated his abdomen, severing several intestines and a kidney.
For an ordinary person of Terra, this would have been a mortal, near-death injury, not to mention just before when Hiliard shattered Weygesâs helmet with the hilt of his sword. Had Weyges not faintly anticipated the old knightâs movement and lessened the force in advance, his brain would have been reduced to mush.
Yet for a Sublimator at the Second Energy Level, such injuries hardly affected his combat ability in the short term.
However, Hiliardâs Source Quality Fluctuation was increasingly weakening, to the point he could barely maintain the baseline of the Second Energy Level.