Chapter 114

"Logino Chiyan, 350 years old this year, Legendary Rank thief, self-proclaimed King of the Lowlands, leader of the Rock-Cliff Demons, once killed the demon lord Gozgen in the Battle of Iron Peak, thereby turning the tide of the battle."

"Causing the demon army from the Scorched Trace Wasteland to be defeated, cutting off the intention of the Abyssal Lord Margash to touch the Rift Stone Continent, thereby laying the pattern of the plane. Regarding the report in my hand, what else do you have to add?"

The wide and rapid Zhuo Ge River surges between the two, the sound of water rumbling. The west bank is the strict Ogre army formation under Shalute, and the east bank is the Rock-Cliff Demon warriors of various forms clinging to the craggy rock walls. Shalute's voice passes through the water vapor, clear and steady, unable to tell whether it is questioning or stating.

On the opposite bank of the river, that huge figure moved. His dark red rock skin, under the dim sky light, was like cooled magma, his three-meter-high body squatting on a giant rock protruding by the river, his posture seemingly lazy, yet like a mountain giant beast ready to pounce at any time.

He grinned, revealing stone teeth like chiseled, uneven, and the sound he made was low and rough, as if two pieces of granite were rubbing against each other:

"Shalute... the sheepskin scroll in your hand has a good memory." Logino's single eye (the other eye socket is a deep scar) narrowed, flashing with cold, hard luster like mineral, "Gozgen's head was indeed twisted off by me and kicked into the Howling Canyon as a ball. As for Margash..."

He deliberately dragged out the tone, using huge stone claws to scratch his angular chin, making a sound like sandpaper rubbing.

"That big man didn't 'not want' to come, it was I who made every crack in this Rift Stone Continent too thorny. He tried three times, lost three vanguard armies, and finally felt... it wasn't worth it."

A muffled laugh rolled from his throat, like falling rocks rolling into a deep valley, "What is not written in the report is that I 'borrowed' the Abyssal iron he transported to build the nest, and took it to forge a batch of new chisels for my brats. The ink in your archives, I fear, didn't dip into this matter?"

He slowly stood up, his huge shadow cast on the river surface.

"So, Shalute, you brought so many... um, 'guests,' and broke into my lowland, are you trying to add a few more strokes to my old stone's merit book?"

Shalute's laughter was rough and loud, overpowering the sound of the rushing river. He did not raise his volume, but every word was as heavy as a war hammer, smashing onto the rock on the opposite bank.

"Ha! Red-skinned stone monkey, you are really good at sticking gold on your face."

He took a step forward, his heavy armor clanking.

"Look clearly at the opposite bank, thirty thousand knives, three reorganized legions filled with demon blood from head to toe. A few months ago, beneath the walls of Agrik, we knocked open the Abyssal elites Margash was proud of one by one like walnuts."

"Do you think that with just a few monkeys hiding in the lowland, it's enough for us to grind our axe blades for a few days?"

His gaze swept over the defensive line on the opposite cliff that was strictly arrayed but obviously sparse.

"The demons of this plane don't have many days to live. Margash has already had his head twisted off by someone. Now, my Grand Duke's eyes haven't completely turned to this godforsaken basin—"

Shalute's voice dropped suddenly.

"You, and those stone brats of yours who can dig holes, still have the last bit of... room to talk about conditions with me sitting by the river, instead of lying in the pit."

"Understand, 'King of the Lowlands'? Your time is faster than the blood on my axe drying."

Logino emitted a low, muffled laugh like a grinding wheel rubbing against rock from the depths of his throat, his huge body leaning forward slightly, a mockery and cold fighting spirit flashing in his single eye.

"Heh... that little Black Dragon Sakavi, not only is he good at shrinking his head in the pile of treasures, but the brats he brought out are one by one sharper than the other."

He tapped the rock platform beneath him leisurely with stone claws, making a "thud-thud" muffled sound.

"Who was it that was surrounded by the demon army in Agrik City and didn't even dare to go down the city wall? I heard it clearly, what, now that the coalition has gnawed the hard bones, you guys followed out, wanting to 'talk' away the family property that others risked their lives to guard with a few big words?"

He stood up straight suddenly, his three-meter-high rock body casting an oppressive shadow in the dimness, his voice suddenly rising, like the precursor to a mountain collapse:

"Look clearly, Shalute. Every stone crack in this Rift Stone Continent is crouching with Rock-Cliff Demons who can tear invaders apart! Can pull out eighty thousand warriors at any time, waiting to open the gourd for you iron-skinned cans! Do you think your thirty thousand people are enough to fill a few ground rifts? Enough to pave a few stone forests?"

He grinned, revealing a near-ferocious "smile."

"Do you want to try, whether the 'glory' you brought from Agrik runs out first, or my stone brats here... hang your Ogre army one by one on the rock wall and make them into bacon?"

Shalute's face was like cooled cast iron, without the slightest ripple of being provoked. He didn't even change his posture, but the light in his eyes became calmer and colder.

"Anger? No, Logino, you are mistaken. Standing in front of you is not a coward who needs to rely on anger to embolden himself."

His voice was terrifyingly steady, as if stating the weather.

"The thirty thousand people you see are the blade. And standing behind me is the anvil, furnace, and mineral vein that can forge countless blades. Even if you can bury them all in your stone cracks today—"

He paused slightly, letting the following words pierce the air like ice picks.

"Tomorrow, I can mobilize another sixty thousand. You, and those of your race hiding in the stones, how many lives do you have to fill into this bottomless pit?"

Shalute took a small step forward, the sound of armor friction exceptionally clear in the silence.

"Kill me? Very good. There are nine other commanders of the same rank behind me, each commanding an army no less than mine. Even if you luckily defeat them all."

"The coalition's Demigods, and even Divine Rank powerhouses, their eyes have never truly moved away from this continent. Who do you think you are fighting against? Are you fighting against this army standing in front of you?"

He shook his head, a near-compassionate scrutiny in his gaze.

"No, you are fighting against an entire war machine that has already crushed the main force of the Abyss, against a destruction sequence of multiple levels that you cannot understand. Your bravery, on a higher chessboard, might not even count as a chess piece worth being specifically mentioned."

Finally, he lowered his voice slightly, but the topic shifted like a dagger delivered precisely:

"Surrender. Now. This is the only opportunity you and your subordinates can get that can still be called a 'condition.' The protection of Grand Duke Sakavi is the last piece of rock eaves on this continent that can still block the wind and rain for you 'stone monkeys'."

Logino was silent for several breaths, the roar of the river filling the silence. His rough stone claws slowly tightened and then relaxed, finally emitting a long breath like rock cracking. The sharp light in the single eye did not dim, but added a layer of heavy depression after weighing.

"Shalute... your words are like the hardest chisel, knocking on the most brittle rock crack."

He lifted his huge head, looking at the gloomy sky.

"I don't like you, and I don't believe your ghost talk about 'infinite troops.' Honestly, I think you can't even walk out of this Linyan Basin. Every stone here can make you pay a bloody price."

He shifted the topic, his voice carrying a cold hardness like disgust:

"But you are right about one point. The Abyss has already rotted at the root, and Margash is dead. Those dirty bugs that crawled out of the pus and only have the instinct for destruction are not worthy of letting me, letting these one hundred thousand Rock-Cliff Demons, accompany them to martyrdom."

He lowered his head violently, his single eye staring fixedly at Shalute, as if to carve every following word into the other's armor.

"Take me to see Sakavi. But before that—" he hammered the rock platform heavily with stone claws, debris splashing everywhere, "Don't touch my lowland, don't touch my brats. This is the bottom line, not a request."

Shalute grinned, revealing a smile between heroic and cold. He spread his hands, making a near-helpless gesture, but there was a blade-like sharpness in his eyes.

"Ah, right, there is one thing I forgot to tell you, this red-skinned monkey—"

He leaned forward, his voice lowered, yet every word clearly pierced through the sound of water.

"I can't send half a word to the Grand Duke's side. The mage who delivered the letter was smashed to pieces by the falling rocks of those 'stone monkeys' when passing through the Black Tooth Pass."

He straightened up, his thumb pointing forcefully toward the direction of Rock Fortress behind him.

"So, want to talk conditions with Grand Duke Sakavi? Together with me, gnaw down the Rock Fortress in front. There is an old rune lighthouse on the top of the fortress, it is said that when it burns, the firelight can shine through the fog of half the plane."

His smile expanded, revealing bone-white teeth.

"At that time, let's light that place into a big torch—naturally, the Grand Duke's people can find us."

"How about it?" Shalute's laughter mixed with the river wind, having a rough frankness, "This business, you have to partner with me first, gnaw out the capital, before you can see the big guy who can really make the decision. Hahahaha!"

"...... I take back what I just said, Shalute."

His voice was still low, but with a bit less mockery and a bit more recognition of warrior to warrior.

"You are not a madman who only knows how to brag. You are very smart, the kind of smart who knows how to use every stone and every ground rift in your hand to smash open the target's door."

His huge body stood up completely, the shadow cast by him seemed different from before, with more substantial oppression.

"Rock Fortress, right? Good. I will help you smash it open. This is both the ticket for my race to survive in this new era..."

He paused, a cold, hard light flashing in his single eye, "And it counts as my Logino Chiyan's 'letter of intent' to your Grand Duke."