My Players Are So Fierce-Chapter 401

Another dawn arrived in Transia. In the great beast cave of Smuggler’s Woods, Blood Claw Chieftain Hog, who had been enjoying recent success and living a comfortable life, stretched as he walked out of his cave.

He wiped his eyes full of cunning and wisdom, swaying his short balding tail as he put on the hood from his “assassin outfit,” concealing his face in darkness as usual.

He stood at the highest point of the great beast cave, looking down.

Though it was barely dawn, the clan that had become very “industrious” under his careful management had already awakened.

Blood Claw hunters rode their dire wolves in groups of three to five, advancing around the woods under their respective captains’ leadership. While completing their morning patrols, they would bring back some fresh meat and forest fruits and vegetables for the clan. The stronger gnoll barbarians headed toward the outposts at the edge of the woods under Captain Maltai Dimwit’s command.

They needed to complete today’s shift change with the barbarians stationed there under Captain Van Gaul’s command. Maltai and Van Gaul were the two strongest barbarian leaders under Hog, and they had earned Hog’s trust deeply, though they still couldn’t compare to Nash who was very good at guessing Hog’s thoughts.

And it wasn’t just the barbarians who had set out, even the female gnolls had entered the caves below the beast cave under the leadership of Chieftain Hog’s several mates to complete their work. The leather obtained from forest prey needed to be processed and then shipped in bulk to Crimson Citadel through Blood Rat Gang’s channels.

Over there, the Bataxin Chamber of Commerce’s professional fur merchants would buy these “questionably sourced” but high-quality goods and pay with grain.

In short, under Hog’s leadership, the Blood Claw clan’s gnolls were famously “industrious.” After occupying the fertile Smuggler’s Woods, they never slept in “late.”

With his talent for governance, and following his “doghead advisor” suggestions, Hog had assigned work to every clan member. As Little Ashina had taught, Hog didn’t want to see his clansmen wandering around with nothing to do.

Only by keeping everyone busy would they have no time for idle thoughts.

Of course, as chieftain, Hog also had to lead by example.

He had his own work too!

When a group of gnoll cubs who should have been lively and mischievous lined up in neat rows, carrying the heavy mood of visiting graves as they came to the chieftain’s tent, today’s “lecture” work began promptly as the first ray of sunlight entered the great beast cave.

Chieftain Hog taught personally!

He had also edited the “textbooks” used for the Blood Claw clan’s gnoll cubs. After realizing that the cubs’ still-developing brains couldn’t understand more complex knowledge, Hog shifted the focus of teaching to the field of “Gnoll History.”

The emphasis was on describing the experiences of the four Black Plagues and the rise and fall of King Gnawbone.

He hoped to make the cubs of his tribe realize that although Transia’s gnolls and Dark Mountain gnolls shared the same origins, the two sides were not “brethren,” let alone having any racial kinship.

This also came from his “doghead advisor” suggestion.

Little Ashina saw Hog as a friend.

She didn’t want Hog and his clan to face extermination, so she suggested that Hog start “reforming” Transian gnolls’ historical and worldview from now on.

The Dark Mountain gnolls were undoubtedly ambitious jerks who wanted to occupy the continent and deserved to be thoroughly defeated.

But these Transian gnolls were also “victims” of the Black Plague wars. They had been breeding and multiplying in Transia and could have integrated into this land, but it was precisely because the Dark Mountain gnolls refused to give up their warlike ways that they were also implicated as “enemies of civilization.”

Hog was clever, and he keenly realized that once this set of “rhetoric” provided by Little Ashina was promoted, it could effectively improve the living conditions of local gnolls.

Most importantly, once they made the “split,” they would naturally become part of Lord Murphy’s Transia as time passed, completely rid of their fate of being hunted as prey.

However, this “split” was risky.

Hog knew very well that under the current backdrop of the approaching Fifth Black Plague, if his proactive splitting behavior was discovered by the Dark Mountain gnolls, what awaited him and the local gnolls would be frenzied slaughter from their “distant relatives.”

Traitors were the most hated in any race.

So this matter had to be carried out in secret.

The adult gnolls would be left alone for now, as their thinking was already solidified and difficult to change, but these cubs, after proper education, would naturally achieve Hog’s hope of changing the status quo when they grew up and were driven out of the clan to breed and multiply in other parts of Transia.

These were all seeds, representing things that would bloom and bear fruit in the future.

Of course, all this was premised on the Blood Claw clan surviving this Black Plague.

In fact, Hog had made “two-handed preparations” – while Lord Murphy was still around, he would fulfill his mission and duties as a “pangolin,” but if Lord Murphy and his warriors all failed, then as the leader of the local gnolls, Hog leading everyone to surrender to distant relatives wouldn’t be too big a problem.

At least ensure existence!

Yes!

Existence was the most realistic and important thing.

Existence was everything, everything for existence!

In such contemplation, Hog quickly finished telling the cubs about the experiences of the Third Black Plague.

This “storytelling” approach was accepted by the cubs who disliked studying, it was the most relaxing moment in their learning career, but after finishing the story, they had to learn writing and reading. Learning Transian writing was difficult for gnolls, as their throat structure made it hard for them to pronounce words like humans.

But the unfortunate situation was that local gnolls had no writing system of their own, and Dark Mountain gnolls certainly wouldn’t teach them the gnoll language. Hog forcing them to learn was also a necessary measure.

After the morning reading and writing practice ended, there was “skills training” at noon. According to the cubs’ different aptitudes, clan members would teach them survival skills from skinning and leather processing to herb gathering, and even fishing and bird egg collecting, this was to give them a specialized skill.

In the afternoon, the clan’s barbarians and hunters would teach them combat, with combat practice continuing until nightfall.

Hog’s “class hours” completely imitated the teaching model created by Professor Malcolm at Crimson Citadel for human children. He felt this was an excellent way of inheritance and cultivation that could effectively prevent the cubs from growing up to be as stupid and stubborn as their parents.

The educational results during this period were remarkable.

Although the clan’s cubs looked no different from other cubs on the outside, they could now effectively complete the “tasks” assigned by Hog. When Transian warriors arrived at the beast cave, these cubs would communicate with them in broken Transian, gaining “favorability” while also receiving some “feeding.”

It was completely a win-win situation.

However today, the cubs were in luck, because Chieftain Hog had business in the swamp today, so the morning literacy practice would be handed over to the chieftain’s trusted advisor, the kobold elder called “Gold Tooth.”

Although Gold Tooth was also strict, being a kobold after all, he couldn’t use “corporal punishment” methods like Chieftain Hog, which would make things much easier for the cubs.

After two hours of “morning reading” ended, Hog finished his deer meat breakfast while checking the cubs’ homework completion from yesterday. Seeing that no one had slacked off, he was very satisfied as he waved goodbye, mustered his troops, and once again entered the Foul Swamp with Nash.

This time their purpose was very clear, they took no detours along the way and quickly arrived at Plague Town. Since Hog had gained acceptance from the plague mages, this time they entered the town unimpeded.

Riding his dire wolf, he ignored the fierce and vicious gazes of the surrounding Gnawbone barbarians and headed straight for the Construction Tower, successfully finding the madman Lame Claw who had just completed a dissection.

At this point, there was only one day left before Hog’s poison would take effect. Lame Claw was also surprised to see him.

He had thought Hog was dead.

“Here! The things you wanted.”

Hog tossed a dirty spirit bag to Lame Claw with an unhappy face. The latter caught it and looked inside, immediately letting out a joyful wail, the bag contained several petrified vampire hearts, those midnight power and blood-scented heart-shaped gems making Lame Claw very satisfied.

“You’re truly an amazing fellow, Hog.”

Lame Claw moved his trademark unfocused eyeballs and praised Hog:

“I’ve never seen a gnoll who could so cleanly hunt vampires and still live so comfortably, but I smell more blood on you. Do you have other vampire hearts?

Why not bring them out?”

“I can’t just give them to you for free.”

Hog took another bag from behind his waist, containing the remaining vampire hearts.

Over these six days, he had distributed the command scepters he got from Lame Claw as rewards for the “Smuggler’s Woods hunting activity,” exciting those spirit mage players into howling with enthusiasm.

They formed several temporary teams and, using maps provided by the gnolls, crossed the border from Foul Swamp to the Saxony region, launching a frenzied hunting campaign against the outer circle members of the Wolfsbane vampires there. Six days of time had gotten Hog 25 vampire hearts.

Of course, the command scepters in his possession had also been almost completely divided up.

Hog now desperately needed new rewards to maintain the “warrior enthusiasm” he had worked so hard to mobilize. This was also his second purpose for coming to Plague Town besides detoxification.

The Blood Claw chieftain had fully witnessed the terrifying potential of players.

He was already addicted to this super useful powerful labor force and had no intention of letting go.

“You need to exchange these vampire hearts for good things. To get them, my clan suffered heavy losses and made enemies with vampires in the Saxony region. Now besides being wanted by Transia’s Blood Vulture vampires, the Wolfsbane clan also sees me as a thorn in their side!”

Hog cursed:

“The skeleton army and command scepters you gave me were all consumed in such operations, and I even almost died in that cursed place, so, Lame Claw, if you want more, you have to give more.

I need compensation too!”

“Let’s detox first, my capable friend.”

Lame Claw made strange laughing sounds and tossed a vial of oddly colored potion to Hog.

The latter sniffed it under his nostrils and almost vomited from the stench, but he had no item identification ability to judge its authenticity. Although uncertain whether this madman would set him up again, he had no other choice while in someone else’s territory, so he had to take the risk and pinch his nose to gulp it down.

But Lame Claw didn’t play any tricks this time.

Although the potion was disgusting, its effects were excellent. After a few minutes, Hog could feel the poison that had been coiled inside him and causing him pressure lately rapidly dissipating, and the dizzy feeling in his mind also improved greatly.

“Follow me!”

Lame Claw waved his claw and led Hog limping into the depths of the Construction Tower.

Taking him into his “laboratory,” no exaggeration, the messy things piled up here were like a garbage dump, but every item was made by Lame Claw himself.

“Take whatever catches your eye, this is my reward for capable friends.”

Lame Claw spread his arms, letting his drool drip from the corner of his mouth, and said loudly:

“I’m about to start developing the great vampire zombie, and the corpse and head of Kenport you sent last time have already been sewn together. Yes, my masterpiece is about to be born! I need to do a big cleanup of my laboratory.”

“Huh? So everything here is mine?”

Hog’s heart leapt with joy, but he immediately put on a stern face and scolded:

“What do you take me for? A shameless garbage collector? I won’t help you dispose of this trash unconditionally… F**k! What the hell is this thing?”

He felt something crawl up his back, making Hog shudder in shock.

Turning around with a shake, he saw a strange pale severed hand being thrown to the ground like a living thing, but it nimbly propped up its “body” with its fingers and “looked” toward Hog.

This severed hand was covered in decaying bandages, and from its exposed strange blue skin with suture marks and its bizarre finger structure, it was clearly neither gnoll nor human hand.

It was obviously some kind of undead creation, quite possibly possessing its own consciousness.

“I have to say, this thing may be weird, but it looks quite distinctive.”

Hog circled around the severed hand several times.

He immediately realized the “value” of this thing, the warriors would definitely like such strange items. In Lord Murphy’s words, you can’t just give equipment and money, pets and decorative items are also necessary.

“Can you make things like this?”

Hog grabbed the strange severed hand from the ground, letting it thrash wildly in his claws like an agitated little demon, then turned his head to ask Lame Claw who had already started sniffing the vampire hearts:

“I need more things like this, as many as possible.”

“Oh, the Thief’s Hand?”

Lame Claw looked back and said:

“This is a good companion for thieves, and you happen to be a gnoll thief. Alright alright, I know what you need. I have many of these, back when I was practicing construction arts, I had a habit of collecting severed hands from corpses.

Ah, that was a long time ago.

But each Thief’s Hand has sealed within it the soul of an unfortunate thief recalled from the netherworld to find no peace, said to be the final destination given by the moon’s death god to all light-fingered thieves.

Taming it won’t be so easy.

It will only obey skilled thieves and pickpockets and help them steal purses.”

“Thump”

The bag full of vampire hearts was thrown at Lame Claw’s feet. The corpse construction master nodded with satisfaction and tossed the bone key to his laboratory to Hog before ignoring him.

Half an hour later, Hog left the Construction Tower carrying bags big and small, with a satisfying harvest.

He looked back at Plague Town, always shrouded in gray mist.

Hog had a feeling this might be one of his last few times coming here as “one of them.”

Lord Murphy was already planning to attack this place, perhaps next time he would take over this place as an occupier, but he felt no nostalgia in his heart and instead was full of yearning for the future. Smuggler’s Woods was only so big, insufficient to support his clan’s growth and expansion.

If he could take the entire Foul Swamp…

Ha, who could have imagined that one day his ambition would grow to such a terrifying degree?

On the return journey, Nash grabbed the agitated undead hand and whipped it trying to tame the ghostly thing, then said to the deeply contemplating Chieftain Hog:

“Chieftain, those bones harassing our clan in Smuggler’s Woods have been mostly cleared out by the warriors. We have no more enemies for them to hunt, and lately they’ve been discussing how to divide up the ‘rewards’ we gave them. What should we do next?

Give out rewards and let them leave?”

“No! We can’t!”

Hog shuddered in shock, instinctively refusing:

“They are Blood Claw clan’s most valuable friends, we can’t just let them leave casually. If there are no enemies in the woods, there are enemies outside! In Saxony region, and in the swamp too! Yes! There are many enemies in the swamp!

If there are no enemies we’ll find enemies, create enemies!

More enemies mean more quests, more rewards will attract more warriors! Until they truly believe from their hearts that we are ‘one of them’! We need their recognition far more than they need our treasures!

This won’t do!

Nash, I need to go back to Plague Town!”

The Blood Claw chieftain narrowed his eyes, a hint of ferocity flashing in his green eyes as he said in a low voice:

“To provoke those Gnawbone bastards! Steal their things! Rob their treasures! Whatever means necessary, lure them to the woods. The warriors will see with their own eyes their friends being attacked by crazy gnolls from the swamp, then they’ll realize we’re not the same as those bastards.

I will release quests at just the right time, guide them into the swamp.

Yes!

Just like that!

Hmm, I think I can understand Lord Murphy’s thinking now.”