When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 738 - 694: Griffin!

Horn stood by the sugarcane mill, coldly observing the subtle silence before him.

Before producing this twin-roller mill, he had already tested it. The twin-roller sugarcane mill improved efficiency by more than double compared to the timber-lever type.

Using the timber-lever sugarcane mill, one would barely extract 800 pounds of sweet branches in a day. The twin-roller type, operated by just two people, could process around 2,000 pounds of sweet branches daily.

The original Sweet Branch Plantation owners were limited by pressing speed and the economic environment, and actual production expansion was far below normal conditions.

But now, with these sugar workshops, the only thing Horn needed to consider was the number of sugar workshops in Langsande County and the port's throughput.

On the surface, there was no indication, but the recent sugar milling demonstration undoubtedly stirred waves in the hearts of the Secret Party Wizards.

Sure enough, after a few wizards discussed quietly for a moment, a middle-aged wizard cautiously stepped forward.

"Your Highness," he cleared his throat, his tone somewhat exploratory, "this sugarcane mill is indeed exquisite, but if we are to establish sugar workshops, you said to ensure each workshop receives orders. How will these orders be distributed? Who will distribute them?"

As soon as these words were spoken, the surrounding wizards immediately perked their ears, holding their breath as they stared at Horn.

Clearly, this was what they were most concerned about.

Horn's lips curled into a slight smile. He slowly walked to the sugarcane mill, gently tapped on the sturdy wooden gears, then looked up at the questioning wizard: "To be honest, I don't know either."

"However, I will choose someone honest, trustworthy, and talented, personally appoint them, and have them responsible for the distribution of these orders."

"You mean?"

"I need you to make the right choices at the right time." Horn could only hint helplessly. "Do you understand what I mean?"

Support... As soon as he finished speaking, the wizards quickly reacted.

Soon, a Secret Party Wizard burst forth: "Your Highness, this is a calendar I brought from the Falan Kingdom, using the finest painting techniques. The patterns are all of rare flowers, signifying your business blooming like flowers."

"Ah?"

Looking at the calendar in his hand, Horn was somewhat bewildered. He couldn't openly say he was preparing to clear out criminal-type Secret Parties, and thus hoped that in the upcoming security war, these moderates would stand with him.

But clearly, the wizards misunderstood his intentions.

"Your Highness, this serpent obsidian statue is a god statue used by an Ancient Snake People priest, extremely rare!"

"Your Highness, this two-headed crocodile is yours to take, absolutely a treasure not even in the Falan King's Palace."

"Your Highness, this is my daughter... if you don't like her, here is my son..."

Horn initially wanted to explain, but seeing the wizards so enthusiastic, he couldn't speak directly. He could only put on his trademark fake smile and accept each one accordingly.

Those wizards who prepared gifts were exceptionally joyful, their faces showing excited delight, as if they already felt assured of victory.

While those wizards who were initially indifferent and didn't prepare much had sweat dripping down their foreheads.

The wizards stepped forward one by one to present their gifts, displaying a wide array of offerings. Rare treasures, precious herbs, mutant creatures, relics from Ancient Aier, small magical beasts—an assortment filled the ground, enough for Horn to open a botanical garden or zoo.

Horn himself wasn't particularly interested in these gifts, only showing interest in items of practical and research value, but these items had none and were truly useless.

Finally, his gaze fell on a gift in the corner, packed in a large box, it was the final one.

This gift looked starkly different from the surrounding exquisite treasures, with its simple and unadorned appearance, it even seemed somewhat crude.

The garlic-nosed wizard standing beside it was somewhat nervous, but quickly stood up, bowing and speaking: "Your Highness, inside is a very rare creature, I think you will definitely be interested!"

As he spoke, he pulled on a rope, the panel dropped, and the surrounding Secret Party members uttered exclamations.

Even Horn, who was initially disinterested, widened his eyes in both intrigue and surprise: "Is this— a griffin?"

Under the black cloth, inside the iron cage, was indeed the creature from which Griffin Horn was named—a griffin.

Similar to the giant spider in Thousand River Valley and the slime in Black Snake Bay, Griffin Horn, the expansive land at the southernmost tip of the continent, also housed a unique creature, that is the griffin.

As a winged creature with an eagle's head and a lion's body, they lived year-round on the southern cliffs and gorges of the continent, preying on large fish and cattle or sheep.

Due to their carnivorous nature and huge appetite, and their tendency for cannibalism, their numbers were scarce and their territorial range vast.

Griffin Horn once teemed with such creatures, though alongside centuries of exploration by the Falan people, griffin numbers dwindled yearly, with many migrating to island quarters.

Yet their vengeful nature did not fade, even now, Falan people at the Griffin Horn colonies [Developments] and the Codfish Castle-Storm Cape shipping line often suffer griffin attacks.

Horn had seen griffin illustrations and descriptions in many books, but this was his first time seeing a living griffin.

A few strands of faint light penetrated the heavy iron bars, falling on its golden-brown fur and dark wings.

On that lion-like body, the dappled shadows of the trees fell on the white eagle-like head, reflecting a scale-like sheen.

Horn didn't see it wrong; he didn't expect this unheard-of little Secret Faction to bring a gift that turned out to be a gryphon!

The gryphon, three times larger than a warhorse, was curled up into a ball. It seemed not yet accustomed to the light, listlessly pecking at the iron cage with its beak, making a dull thud.

A few nearby military policemen immediately sprang up in front of Horn.

The garlic-nosed Secret Faction member rubbed his hands together: "No need to worry, everyone. These bars are made of fine iron. It has fallen ill and won't eat, so it doesn't have the strength to harm Lord Horn."

Standing on tiptoe, Horn peered through the gaps among the guards' shoulders: "This is a rare creature. Where did you get it from?"

"It was sold to us by the Snake People Tribe." The garlic-nosed fellow nodded and bowed, yet with a hint of pride. "Luck favored me. It should be an old, sick gryphon that got lost and landed in the Green Dragon Forest Sea, then was picked up by the Snake People. These Snake People don't know its value, so I gave them some iron tools, and they sent the gryphon over."

Horn couldn't help but chuckle. He had just been saying he needed to clear an area for a zoo, and now the perfect centerpiece had been delivered.

Looking at the majestic old gryphon, Duvalon couldn't help asking, "Can this gryphon be ridden? Like, flying up into the sky."

"I'm afraid not." The garlic-nosed Secret Faction member shook his head, "You may not know, but there are animals in this world that cannot be tamed. They naturally yearn for freedom."

In history, both the Falan and the Norn people have attempted to tame gryphons as mounts for high-tier knights.

Gryphons can be tamed but not domesticated, and their temperament is too volatile, with extremely high unpredictability. One minute they might nuzzle up to you, and the next, their beak might crack open your skull.

In the Leopard Palace of Golden Horn Bay Holy Throne City, there are two gryphons kept as tribute.

But most of the time, they are firmly chained, serving as conversation pieces and attractions for noble guests to marvel at.

"What a shame," Duvalon said, visibly dejected.

Horn, however, patted him on the shoulder: "What's a shame? Just give me a few more years, and I'll make sure you can fly without needing a gryphon."

After consoling Duvalon, Horn originally intended to step forward and examine this rarity closely, but suddenly stopped for no apparent reason.

It wasn't until he retracted his steps that he belatedly realized it.

Was it an illusion? Or did he indeed catch a whiff of a mysterious smell of blood? Staring at the moribund gryphon, Horn found his gaze inexplicably drawn to the beast's chest.

"Pfft..." An almost inaudible sound filled the air, causing Horn's hair to stand on end.

Just as his gaze shifted to the chest, a line of blood suddenly appeared on the gryphon's torso, feathers and organs simultaneously burst to either side.

Greenish gastric acid spilled onto the floor, sizzling, as a black shadow, shorter than Horn, ghosted through the narrow bars.

The longsword reflected the sun's light, flashing across Horn's eyes. The instincts honed through countless battles made him instantly draw the Blood Covering Cloud from his waist.

In the blink of an eye, the black shadow had advanced from several steps away to right in front of him.

The sword wind swept past the collars of two military policemen, precisely slicing through the space between their shoulders.

As Horn strained to raise the Blood Covering Cloud, an immense force surged from the sword's body.

The silver-white Demon Hunter steel sword and the pale red Blood Covering Cloud sparked a trail of fire, the Holy Silver-made sword tip grazing past his eyes.

In a flash of lightning, Horn twisted the Blood Covering Cloud with all his strength, thanks to the swordsmanship training with Jeanne, he deflected the blow.

The sword tip grazed his neck, but a sharp, heart-piercing pain still came from above his collarbone.

"Your Excellency, be careful!"

"Assassin, it's an assassin from the clergy!"

Although this strike didn't kill him, the military policemen on both sides were so frightened their hair stood on end. They simultaneously lunged at the black shadow, pinning it down before a second strike could be delivered.

Almost simultaneously, the music from the ball outside suddenly halted, followed by a barrage of furious shouts and screams.

"Ah—"

"Holy Gun, Holy Gun!"

"A Demon Hunter has infiltrated!"

"Watch out for the Fireball Technique!"