Chapter 133: Gray Water Sanjiaozhou

Where the Sol River violently pours into the Ash Sea, the river water carries volcanic ash and decaying substances from upstream, forming this vast Gray Water Sanjiaozhou at the estuary.

There is no distinction between day and night here, eternally shrouded in gray-yellow mist, and the air is filled with a mixture of sulfur, humus, and a certain sweet, fishy smell.

The hot and humid climate causes water vapor to condense into toxic miasma that never dissipates, and the dark red magic light occasionally surging from the abyss cracks dyes the fog into a sickly pink-gray.

River water and sea water blend here, forming a viscous, pus-like gray-green water body. The water surface floats with oily iridescent colors, which is the physical manifestation of the abyss energy seeping out.

Countless whirlpools and pits are hidden under the seemingly calm water area, some leading to temporary cracks in deeper abyss layers.

When the tide rises, sea water backflows, bringing larvae of deep-sea demons and coral-like demonized plants. When the tide recedes, black mudflats full of holes are exposed, from which decaying magic residues seep out.

All plants present a sickly gray tone; slender gray-white reed clusters collectively emit a sad, whistling sound when startled, releasing hallucinogenic spores.

Twisted trees with branches like exposed skeletons have viscous acidic tree sap flowing under their bark. Giant mushrooms with caps covered in pustule-like protrusions spray corrosive gas when they rupture.

Seemingly withered vines suddenly coil around prey, with hook-shaped suckers on the surface. The moss layer covering most of the land is soft and slippery when stepped on, often hiding swallowing pits.

However, the crisis is far more than that. The Gray Swamp Lurker, a hybrid of giant salamander and crocodile, is 6-8 meters long. Their gray-white scales blend perfectly with the swamp background, and bone-spur-like breathing tubes grow on their backs.

The most threatening is its "Corrupting Gaze", whose eyes can emit rays that soften flesh, causing prey to slowly dissolve in the mud. As the most common species in the entire swamp, it is the nightmare of all adventurers.

The Poison-Saliva Trapper Demon is a humanoid but hunched demon, about 2.5 meters tall, with skin like rotting tree bark. They are good at imitating the calls for help of drowning people, and the saliva dripping from their mouths has a powerful paralyzing effect.

Its palms have evolved into fan-shaped webs, allowing it to dig tunnels rapidly in the mud for ambushes. Usually acting in groups, they use venom to build sticky nests in the treetops.

The Bone-Spur Toad Demon, a toad-like demon that looks like a giant stone when crouching, has its body covered in bone plates. When hunting, it sprays dozens of hollow bone spurs from its back, pumping digestive fluid into the target after piercing it.

The Rotten Root Elder, which never associates with other demons, is an ancient existence that is half-plant and half-demon, looking like a giant tree stump hollowed out by wood-boring insects. It is actually a slow-moving intelligent demon, with roots extending for several square kilometers, monitoring the entire delta through an underground mycelial network.

They do not hunt directly, but establish symbiotic relationships with other demons, exchanging information for "tribute". It is said that they preserve the memories of the Gray Water Sanjiaozhou for tens of thousands of years.

The Drowning Maid is a rare humanoid High-Level demon, retaining the beauty of an elf or human female during her lifetime, but her skin presents the blue-gray color of a drowning victim, and her long hair is always dripping with rotten water.

They can control water flow and trigger floods, and their singing can cause listeners to have hallucinations of being unable to breathe. Legend has it that they are transformed from spellcasters who voluntarily threw themselves into the abyss in exchange for power.

"Lady Weilna, the 'Whispering Shoal' has been purified and occupied by the Orc Legion. According to front-line intelligence, five days ago, the Orc inland fleet successfully crushed the counterattack launched by the 'Rotten Root Elder Council' at Thousand Eye Lake, and the remnants have retreated into the depths of the swamp.

However, what needs to be vigilant is that the Bone-Spur Toad Demon known as the 'Old Man of Rotten Wood' has not yet revealed its true intentions.

The Swamp Toadman scouts we dispatched continue to monitor its territory, and have not yet found any signs of the demon intervening in the battle situation personally. It seems to be still dormant, or brewing some deeper scheme."

"I know, tell me about the people you brought this time. Lady Lady Tali."

"Three thousand Drow Elf warriors are ready to go, two hundred of whom are your guards 'Shadow Blades', and the rest are equipped with silver-plated inscription blades and anti-poison amulets to resist swamp corrosion.

One thousand Jackal scouts are divided into twenty hunting groups, half of which have already infiltrated the Bone Bridge Labyrinth area. Their sense of smell can distinguish the smell of the Rotten Root Elder's mycelium from ten miles away.

Five hundred Harpies are organized into five raiding squadrons, each Harpy's sharp claws soaked in Toad Demon poison gland extract; this is the spoils of war obtained from the ambush at the edge of the 'Old Man of Rotten Wood' territory."

"Two thousand Goblin Mobile Corps Commander teams are scattered in thirty-seven mobile strongholds. I point to the locations marked with obsidian on the map; they are good at setting trigger-type poison explosion traps in the mud, and the first batch of pit traps was camouflaged with rotten vines this morning."

"Lady Tali, are there really only this many Goblins in your hands?"

Weilna's fingertips slid gently over the troop scroll, her dark purple eyes flashing with a sharp doubt in the dim light.

"Don't forget, we came here upon summons to help the Orcs crush the swamp demons from the shoals to the source of corruption. This list you reported might be enough to fight a few surprise attacks, but it is far from enough to choke the throat of the entire Gray Water Sanjiaozhou."

She stood up slowly, and the shadows spread like living things with her movements.

"As for that 'Old Man of Rotten Wood'... you and I both know it is not an ordinary demon. Over the past three months, three Legendary Rank adventurers have been buried under its bone spurs, one of whom was the Knight Commander of the Punitive Knight Order, and even the remains could not be found in the poisonous swamp."

"I do have over ten thousand Goblins in my hands, but they are currently scattered into three hundred Mobile Corps Commander teams, entangled in every piece of burning land in the Great Duke's territory like thorny vines."

"If it weren't for these Goblins biting invaders in the shadows day and night, poisoning the water sources, and launching ambushes at the passes, what we would lose would not just be villages, but the entire Iron Hoof Wasteland."

Lady Tali put away the runes and presented a secret letter stamped with the Gray Dwarf rune seal with both hands:

"But please rest assured, Lord Su Lai De already has a deployment. Five thousand Gray Dwarf battle groups have set off from the Dragon Spine Mountains. They are good at building steel strongholds that never fall in the swamp; this is both reinforcements and nails."

Finally, Lady Tali lowered her voice:

"You also understand Lord Su Lai De's wariness of the Orcs. He would rather use Gray Dwarves to advance step by step than invest more Drow warriors into this war where the allies may not be trustworthy.

My suggestion is to first consume the 'Old Man of Rotten Wood's' poisonous stings, and wait for the Gray Dwarf fortress to be built, then the real noose should be tightened by our own hands."

"I understand your considerations."

Weilna's fingertips tapped gently on the edge of the map, and the model of the Gray Water Sanjiaozhou rippled.

"Since the troop strength is limited, then use limited blades to cut open the most critical joints. Except for the eyes monitoring the 'Old Man of Rotten Wood', recall all other personnel. We will drive the first wedge belonging to us deep into this poisonous swamp."

When she turned, her robe dragged out dark shadows like night fog.

"Su Lai De's concerns are not wrong. Orcs may be temporary allies, but they are definitely not partners. If you bring a large army, they might really 'conveniently' throw you into the Poisonous Miasma Sea; after all, in the rules of the abyss, having one less person to share the spoils is never a bad thing."

…………

The air in Crystal Horn Bay no longer smells purely of fishy salt and sulfur, but is mixed with the smell of cable tar, soaked wood, steel friction, and the faint mineral fishy smell unique to Crabman shells.

The edge of the port, which was piled with ruins three months ago, has now been transformed into an area with distinct functions: rope climbing frames, swinging simulated decks, deep-water rowing pools, and even a training platform for boarding battles modified from old ship hulls.

About two hundred Crabman soldiers are performing weight-bearing sprints with astonishing neatness. They are about two meters tall, their main trunks covered in thick, gray-blue calcified shells, and their lower bodies are two pairs of sturdy jointed walking legs, emitting a dense and regular "click" sound when moving, with a rhythm so unified it is chilling.

The first pair of specialized pincers are not all used for combat; many soldiers' pincers have been modified or equipped with tools. Some have mortises embedded in the inner side of the pincer mouth to stably carry logs or metal components.

Others have been replaced with more dexterous hooks. They carry sandbags equivalent to twice their own body weight, rushing back and forth on the beach, with white water vapor used for heat dissipation seeping from the shell crevices.

In the deep-water area, another batch of Crabmen are operating several old-fashioned two-masted warships delivered by the Orcs. Their two pairs of walking legs can be firmly fixed on the bumpy deck like the most stable base, while the freed front limbs and pincers efficiently operate cables and adjust sails.

A group is practicing emergency plugging under Aikuilong's orders; a soldier instantly clamps a damaged wooden board with huge pincers, and another quickly applies quick-setting mud to the seams, the entire process taking no more than fifteen seconds.

"Aikuilong, three months no see, your 'Iron Pincers' are quite decent." Morax's voice was steady in the sea breeze, his gaze sweeping over the neat Crabman soldier phalanx on the training ground.

"At this rate, it won't be long before our own fleet doesn't have to look at the faces of the Orcs, or even the Sea Elves."

The Bronze Dragon Aikuilong turned around, his teaching stick spinning in his hand, without pride on his face. He pointed to the Crabman soldiers who were simulating boarding, their movements neat and terrifying, but also obviously stiff.

"Appearance only." His voice was like a calibrated gear, precise and lacking ups and downs.

"These shell-brains are pickled too thoroughly by the abyss, and in their bones, they only recognize overwhelming power. Obedience? Full marks. If you tell them to jump into lava, they won't even shake their pincers."

He changed the subject, the tip of the teaching stick lightly pointing to a Crabman soldier trying to operate a small winch; the soldier's secondary pincer appeared clumsy and laborious in front of the precise buckle.

"But that's it. Fighting hard battles? They can't hold up in consumption wars that require flexibility, morale, and resilience. Once the command node is cut off, or the battle situation exceeds the complexity of the preset instructions, they are just a bunch of expensive living obstacles."

Aikuilong retracted the teaching stick, summarizing:

"As for fine work, sailing and adjusting ropes is fine, but repairing precision parts, operating complex ballistae, or even identifying complex dark current markers on sea charts? Not as good as a human apprentice. Beach landing is an even bigger shortcoming.

They can row sampans ashore against a rain of arrows, but complex skirmish advancement and terrain utilization after going ashore? Not as good as a finger of a human veteran."

He looked at Morax, the bronze-colored pupils reflecting the mechanically repetitive movements on the training ground.

"Therefore, don't treat them as an 'army'. They are tools, specialized tools built specifically for 'maritime boarding' and 'underwater destruction'.

Used in the right place, they are worth more than the price. Used in the wrong place..." he paused, "they are just a pile of moving scrap iron and shells, and you have to waste ship space to transport them back."

"Ha!" Morax let out a short, cold laugh, his gaze sweeping over the silent shell figures on the training ground, as if looking at a pile of breathing tools.

"Aikuilong, my old friend, you have fallen into a thinking trap; you are measuring the calculations of a dragon with the ruler of a mortal."

He paced half a step forward, his voice lowered, but carrying a kind of near-cruel clarity:

"Inferior races are born to be consumables. This is the law carved into the ladder of life. If a ship is broken, it can be repaired and rebuilt; if a shell is broken, it can be replaced with a new one. The fact that these crabs can be trained, supplemented, and sent to the battlefield in batches is their greatest 'advantage'."

He raised his hand, pointing to the flags of other races faintly visible on the sea surface in the distance.

"Look at the Sea Elves, how many years does it take to cultivate a priest captain who can understand ocean currents and control storms?

Look at humans or Orcs, how much time and resources does it take to train a veteran who can shoot accurately on a bumpy deck and maintain sanity in boarding melee?"

Morax's mouth curled into a cold arc:

"We can afford the loss. Because to us, time itself is a furnace, and they are just firewood thrown into the furnace. When this batch is burned out, the next batch is already lining up on the training ground. As long as the furnace is not extinguished, the firewood will never run out."

He finally patted Aikuilong's bronze shoulder armor, emitting a dull metallic echo:

"As for fine work and beach landing? That's a problem for later. Now, what we need are 'pincers' that can immediately go to sea and bite the enemy's throat. When we have leisure, we will find more suitable tools."

"It seems the influence of the environment is really great, even the great Silver Dragon has become as cold and ruthless as a Five-Colored Dragon, hahahaha!"

"Hahaha! You are still so interesting, but then again, Weilna is already acting in the 'Gray Water Sanjiaozhou', and your ships should be faster, she is waiting for you to deliver troops and supplies." ===== CHAPTER 134 =====