Chapter 123: Supply List

At this time, the air at the Star-Falling Beachhead was unusually scorching, mixed with the stench of sea fish, sulfur, tar, and the rot of flesh and blood that had not yet dissipated, but it still could not stop the noise of the crowd.

The lizardman fleet, more than a dozen low and narrow fast transport ships with hulls covered with anti-magic coating, were squeezed beside the simple trestle bridge that had been temporarily widened.

There were no large cranes, only crude wooden pulley sets and endless muscles. Ogre coolies shouted low slogans, went into battle shirtless, and sweat washed out muddy grooves on their gray-black skin.

Heavy wooden boxes, bundles wrapped in animal skins, and iron cages containing living things were being dragged out of the ship's hold, rolled down the jump board, or directly hoisted to floating rafts with ropes, and then dragged ashore.

Occasionally, demon fliers from afar flew over the sky, and scattered burning arrows shot from the arrow towers crossed the sky, or were intercepted by the anti-aircraft ballistae newly built on the beachhead.

Several deep-sea lizards, domesticated and the size of small elephants, were breathing uneasily. They were living cranes, using their thick tails and backs to assist in dragging the heaviest siege engine parts.

Lizardman sailors wearing black leather armor and holding poisoned blowpipes were on alert on the ship's side and the trestle bridge, their cold eyes scanning the sea and the sky, guarding against surprise attacks by demons from underwater, or invisible infiltrators.

Several piles of classified accumulation were quickly formed on the shore.

Iron spearheads flashing with cold light were bundled and piled up, and boxes of arrowheads and crossbow bolts were hurriedly checked. Sealed barrels of hard bread, strings of air-dried sea kelp fish (a thornless fish that is resistant to storage), and barrels of fresh water.

Strange-shaped objects covered with waterproof cloth, magic rune boxes emitting faint blue light, were personally guarded by accompanying warlocks, and some wooden cages that constantly made dull collision sounds, which contained supplementary war beasts.

Gisk stood on a pile of black stones slightly higher on the beachhead, where he could overlook the entire unloading area and the demon defense line shrouded in smoke in the distance.

There were a few more scorch marks on his plate armor, but he was still straight. The person in charge of the lizardman fleet, Shadow Claw, was walking over quickly.

Shadow Claw's body was more capable than ordinary lizardmen, and his scales were dark matte dark green, almost black.

He did not wear heavy armor, but a set of close-fitting robes embedded with sound-absorbing soft pads and aquatic leather, with a string of bone whistles used for communication hanging around his waist.

His eyelids blinked slowly, revealing the fatigue and inherent caution after a long voyage.

Shadow Claw, in a hoarse but clear common language, stroked his chest with his right claw and performed a simple etiquette.

"Marshal Gisk, the Grand Duke's will arrives with the waves. 'Black Tide' fleet commander, Shadow Claw, delivers the first batch of supplies to you.

The sea route is not peaceful, we lost the 'Stalker', it was behind, dragged down by the abyss undercurrent and... some kind of tentacles."

Gisk: (Yellowish eyes swept over Shadow Claw, nodded slightly, voice rough and direct) "The loss has been recorded, it will be made up from the spoils. The Grand Duke's letter and list."

Shadow Claw took out a sealed metal tube and a waterproof animal skin scroll from his arms.

Gisk quickly scanned the letter first, which had the rune seal of the Ministry of Internal Affairs and a short military supply allocation order. Then he unfolded the scroll, and Shadow Claw performed an oral report on the side, speaking fast and steadily.

"The following are the main supplies, arranged according to your priority level:

First, 3,500 barrels of military rations to maintain life, enough for the current military strength for 15 days of full rations, but the premise is that you cannot receive more 'mouths'.

Two hundred purification rune stones, each can purify ten tons of salt water or poisonous water. Forty boxes of medical bandages, hemostatic moss, and anti-poison serum.

There are only fifty barrels of spirits. The Armament Department has explicitly ordered that no excess rations be distributed before breaking through the outer wall." (He glanced at Gisk, who just snorted)

Second, siege weapons, 120,000 standard arrowheads, 8,000 heavy crossbow bolts, 300 standard stone bullets for catapults. Eight tons of replacement bowstrings, crossbow arms, and catapult torsion tendons. This is specifically requested by the Craftsman Guild.

In addition, the 'special ammunition' you want: fifty explosive cans infused with holy fire, two hundred strong acid clay pots. But there are only one hundred frozen rune arrows, and three frost mages who made them died in the infighting last month."

Third, for 'gnawing stones': iron wood boards for the outer layer of siege towers are enough to assemble two and a half standard units. Three hundred quick-setting rock pillars for tunnel support.

Five tons of black powder (the gnome engineering director warned repeatedly to store it carefully). Also... (he lowered his voice) that thing, three cans, sealed with abyssal cold iron, stored in the lead room on the bottom floor of the 'Abyss Breath', needs your personal guards and the warlock chief to unlock and take over together."

Fourth, living things and 'eyes': two hundred hell war dogs, already injected with sedatives, locked in cages. Twenty scout-type pterosaurs, in good condition, but need a day to adapt to the sulfur air here.

Finally, (he pointed to several cages covered with black cloth that were carefully lifted down) a dozen 'Shadow Bats'. They can sneak into crevices, detect magic fluctuations and life echoes, but are extremely fragile and need live mice to feed."

Shadow Claw paused, his gaze cast toward the catapults being assembled further away. "About 70% of the things on the list have been transported.

Storms, demon air harassment, and things that are becoming more and more active under the sea surface... the shipping lane is narrowing, Marshal. The Grand Duke asked me to convey that the next supply will be either in a month, or after you take the 'Crystal Horn Bay' port, so that we can dock directly instead of risking our lives on this exposed beachhead."

Gisk rolled up the list, his metal claws creaking, he looked at the silhouette of the port vaguely behind the demon defense line, and a light of calculation flashed in his eyes.

"Tell the Grand Duke, a month is too long. Within twenty days, I will let his people unload cargo at the port. These supplies... especially arrowheads, tendons, and those three cans of 'things', will be used in the right places."

He turned to leave, then stopped. "Shadow Claw, your fleet rests for one night. Before dawn tomorrow, I want your people to cooperate with a feint of mine to attract the demon's attention to the sea. Can you do it?"

Shadow Claw's eyelids blinked slowly again, which is the lizardman's way of expressing acceptance and understanding. "As you wish, Marshal. 'Black Tide' is good at creating chaos."

"Go back and report to the Grand Duke, lizardman scales are only worthy of reflecting light in inland rivers. Your few transport ships can survive the Ink Abyss Sea, not because of how much ability you have, but because the abyss has temporarily closed its eyes.

If you want to have another supply, wait until I take down Crystal Horn Bay. That place is inhabited by 'Crabmen', a shell species soaked in the abyss, born with the bones of the deep ocean. They hate demons, but they will never bow to the rulers on land.

Wait until I clear this ruin, please ask the Grand Duke to come in person. That group of deformed crabs needs someone to use a language they can understand... to talk."

"Your will, I will bring it back completely." Shadow Claw's eyelids slowly lowered and raised, and the scales shone with damp cold light in the miserable light of the coast.

"Before leaving, the Grand Duke also entrusted me with a sentence: 'The traces of the Dragon Worship Sect have already emerged in the mist of the Star-Shattering Strait. Gisk, use your claws and calculations to drag down their pace. The door of that ruin must not be opened for them within a month.'"

"Hmph, it seems that what is buried under this pile of broken stones is not just the stench of demons." Gisk's claws rubbed the hilt of the sword unconsciously, his gaze crossing Shadow Claw, cast toward the purple-black mist lingering deep in the ruins group.

"The Dragon Worship Sect's group of hiding-head-and-showing-tail lizard lovers also want to come and share a piece of the pie? No wonder I always feel that more than one pair of eyes is staring at this beachhead."

He bared his mouth, revealing stark white fangs; it was not a smile, but a predator's warning declaring its territory.

"Tell the Grand Duke, I understand his meaning. A month? Good. On this battlefield, the length of time is determined by my war drums and the speed of their blood flow.

The people of the Dragon Worship Sect had better get used to circling outside the labyrinth, because I will turn every road that seems to lead to the ruins into a trench that needs to be filled with life."

The sea breeze rolled in the smell of gunpowder smoke, he took a deep breath, as if tasting the cruelty to come.

"Vultures are willing to circle in the sky, let them circle. But the first one to step into the ruins will only be me and my warriors. As for the things inside..."

He paused, a flash of cold calculation in his eyes, "Once it gets into my hands, naturally I will know who it should belong to."

……

"Everyone, I called you here today because uninvited guests have slipped into our 'backyard'." Gisk's voice was low and steady, holding a piece of grayish-white dead branch in his claw.

"According to the intelligence brought back by the scouts who risked their lives last night, the traces of the Dragon Worship Sect's activities have appeared in the canyon area on our flank."

He gently placed the branch on the rough tactical map, side by side with the mark representing the demon defense line.

"This is not an ordinary dead branch. It comes from a kind of 'Pale Soul-Sucking Tree'. On the Gravel Continent under our feet, it is impossible to survive at all."

He scanned the silent generals in the tent, his gaze sharp.

"But it now appears less than thirty miles from our camp, what this means, you should all be clear."

"That group of scholars and tomb robbers who worship scales have noses sharper than hyenas. The stench of demons couldn't stop them, and our battle line is probably not taken seriously by them."

He leaned forward slightly, the shadow falling on the twisted branch.

"But since the shadow of the Bailong Sect has already been cast upon our shared battlefield, some things... have become simple."

"Representatives of all parties, I have no intention of investigating the flags and purposes behind you." Gisk's gaze slowly swept over the representatives of various forces silent in the camp, the grayish-white branch turning gently in his claws.

"But since the shadow of the Dragon Worship Sect has been cast onto our common battlefield, some things... have become simple."

He gently pressed the branch on the canyon mark on the map, as if pinning an invisible moth.

"They are hyenas sniffing for secrets, ghost players off the chessboard. No matter what each of you is chasing, treasure, knowledge, or power."

"When a group of 'scholars' proficient in ancient languages and good at driving dragon beasts start to move on the flank of your target, any rational person should be vigilant."

His voice lowered by half, with a texture like metal friction.

"My army is wrestling with the demon's city wall and cannot spare hands to deal with these guests in the shadows. But you... the flexible blades behind you may be just right for such work."

"I don't need to know who made the move, and I don't care whose badge is stained with blood." Gisk's mouth pulled into an almost polite arc.

"I only need one result, within a month, the people of the Dragon Worship Sect... must remain in those canyons forever and weather away."

"After all," he let go of his claws, letting the dead branch roll to the edge of the map, "compared to the demons in the light, the peepers in the dark are often better at... disrupting the chessboard that everyone has carefully arranged."

The tent was silent, only the sound of the sea breeze rolling the curtains. Gisk's words were like a stone thrown into a quiet pool, and under the ripples were the dark currents that the representatives of all parties were rapidly calculating in their hearts.

Fernand tapped the table with his fingers, his eyes as sharp as an eagle, and said slowly: "Gisk, allow me to speak bluntly, your Grand Duke's scout network has always been more sensitive than the sea snakes of the Abyss Sea.