Chapter 440: Weaving and Bloodline

The fact that the Scattered Tower Forest can be ranked alongside the Wasteland Brotherhood clearly shows that their membership composition shares certain similarities.

The exiled, the despised, the born evil, the fallen — they are everywhere.

This also doomed the organization internally to the law of the jungle and living day to day, so naturally it rarely had any clear, long-term goals.

Of course, an overall general direction still existed.

For instance, over by the Sea of Moon, they mainly focused on raiding towns, controlling trade routes, and commerce.

Same as here at Axehead Shoal.

Therefore, regarding the Scattered Tower Forest's organizational goals, the White Dragon Tomb was clearly useless.

It was hard not to invite questions from the other members.

And the half-elf Virgil fell silent for a moment.

The heavy breathing, like some great beast, echoed through the cellar, pressing in from every direction.

He said, "Does it matter?"

The man in the private militia uniform, listening to his increasingly feeble voice, actually mustered some courage:

"Of course it matters, Lord Virgil. The money paid to the land naga came out of the organization's funds. With such a sum spent on a useless White Dragon Tomb, I have reason to suspect you of embezzling public funds. I'm going to write a letter—"

Wham!!!

A foul-smelling gust of violent wind came rushing at his face.

So fast that even the oil lamp beside him was knocked out.

No! It wasn't extinguished!

Instead, Virgil's two-and-a-half-meter-tall upper body — even more swollen after battle — was blocking his view, the rotting black shadow swallowing all the lamplight, leaving only the heavy panting right at his face.

Only now did the man remember to feel fear, cold sweat pouring down in streams.

At the same time, he felt his wrist seized by the other.

The giant hand — rotting flesh peeling back, swollen and purple, dotted with small lumps — made it look as absurd as an adult gripping a baby's tiny hand.

Crack!

The giant hand, like an iron clamp, squeezed down on the wrist, and then crushed both flesh and bone together.

The man let out a muffled grunt, forcing himself not to scream.

He knew that this half-elf superior of his had a very twisted hobby in his younger years — a love of listening to screams.

The more pitiful the scream, the more excited he got.

So he could not cry out.

"M-my lord, I was only following the rules—" he still held his ground.

Sure enough.

Lord Virgil, his face unseen in the shadows, seemed to immediately lose interest.

He only saw him release his grip.

He picked up the hand he had crushed clean off, and stuffed it into the gap of muscle where the stitching had burst.

Riiip—

The black stitching, like something alive, quickly sewed the hand back onto his swollen skin.

For a moment, the other's withered aura actually recovered somewhat.

【Bio-Weave】, huh?

The man hurriedly lowered his head, not daring to look again, virtual sweat pouring down his forehead.

Sure enough, half-elves were all overly fond of this spell — who would have thought that even Virgil, a Spiritual Warrior, was a master of it.

From this, he also fully understood the use of that dead dragon in the White Dragon Tomb!

"Your subordinate understands — your strength, my lord, represents the strength of the Scattered Tower Forest."

The great beast before him let out another foul-smelling pant.

But this time, my lord paid him no more attention. He turned, walked with heavy steps back to the stool in the center of the cellar, and curled up sitting once more.

How would the man dare linger any longer? His face was deathly pale.

Clutching the bleeding stump of his wrist, he turned and fled in panic.

The cellar fell into dead silence once more.

The great beast, half its body buried in shadow.

The heavy, echoing, Cu Zhong panting, fighting desperately against the invasive power of the Plague domain.

And the muffled, delirious muttering, steeped in resentment and agony.

"Black sword… black hammer, black sword, black hammer…"

Nighttime, a small grove on the cliffs of the White Dragon Tomb.

Rod stood before a slightly withered elm tree, carefully applying the nourishing medicinal liquid.

Beside him, Tally held the jar of medicinal liquid for him with a bored expression, yawning every now and then.

Behind him stood a guilty-looking Miss Miss Puwei.

Her ten fingers were laced together, head lowered as she stared meekly at the ground, like a child who had done something wrong.

Soon.

Rod finished tending to this tree, and cursed the people of the Sword Bay region for having no sense of caring for trees.

He turned and lifted up Miss Miss Puwei's beige apron, wiping his palm, covered in medicinal liquid, on it.

In an instant, a large patch was left filthy.

Miss Miss Puwei's eye twitched, but she dared not say anything.

"Ah, sorry — force of habit."

"N-no, it's fine."

"You probably don't know this, but I also live in the woods. Every time I finish applying the maintenance solution to the trees, there's a Miss Spider who wipes my palms for me."

"."

"Sigh, she's just spoiled me too much. Without her by my side, I can't even wipe my own hands. Miss Wen Na, can you do it?"

Wen Na forced a stiff smile. "Of course."

She raised both hands and, through her apron, took hold of Rod's large hands.

First she wiped them overall once, then she slipped her fingers over his and cleaned each one carefully.

Rod could feel the faintly cool palms of the girl.

From his angle, he could just see the crown of her head—soft, thick pale-blue hair giving off a fresh scent of orange and lilac.

"Wen Na, although it wasn't stated explicitly in the contract, you should understand your own situation, right?"

"S-sorry"

"You said you have something precious you need to take back. Small matter—Axe Beach, I can walk right in. Let me touch your little hand, kiss your little lips, whatever, I'll definitely help you."

The small hand of Wen Na wiping his palm went rigid for a moment.

Then she raised her head, showing a smile that was barely different from a crying face. "I-I wasn't trying to trouble Mr. Rod, you know"

"But it's too late now. To find you, I went into Earl Gubao and fought an eighth-tier, almost died. Then after finally finding you, I fought a mid-seventh-tier old man, almost got gutted."

Almost died?

But when I saw you, aside from a bit more dust and not wearing a shirt, you didn't seem hurt at all, did you?

Also, almost hacked to death by Old Ed?

Who hacked who to death? Old Ed was the one who became a blood-soaked mess; you just had a scrape on your chest. How dare you say the words 'gutted'?"

But when you're under someone's roof, you have to bow your head.

Wen Na could only acknowledge his merit, and said miserably, "Y-yes, yes, you've worked hard"

"Then tell me, is just one White Dragon Horn seal worth it?"

Rod said with a smile.

While speaking, he used his other hand to pinch her smooth, sleek chin and lift it up.

Wen Na's large eyes, the same color as her hair, met his, then in an instant she panicked and quickly looked away. Facing the handsome man, her cheeks were instantly flushed pink.

Humans rarely had such a delicate face—even her panicked expression possessed such beauty and charm.

"You understand what I mean, Wen Na."

"Mr. Rod. I-I-I only want revenge. For now, I don't"

"What does this have to do with revenge? This is just a one-time transaction between you and me, concerning only the body, and nothing to do with what happens to you afterward."

"Ah? Mr. Rod means a one-night stand—sorry, our Miss Puwei family is rather conservative. Only after marriage"

Wen Na's heart was in a complete mess.

During the day she had already concluded that Rod had taken a liking to her; she just hadn't expected that when he stated it outright now, she herself would be so shaken.

But hearing it was a one-night affair of fleeting romance, she couldn't help feeling a bit hurt and disappointed.

But then she thought again.

In the near future she would be alone in Deepwater City. With her beauty, plus her frail body that couldn't even lift a thing, even with a treasure to help her there was still the risk of being exposed.

In the worst case, she might even become a noble's plaything

No!

Rather than that, I might as well give my first time to him!

At least he's handsome enough to look at, he's saved me several times, and his body is strong enough—s-strong

A bit like the heroic knight my lord in the storybooks.

Maybe after being with him I could get pregnant; maybe after he achieves fame and success he'll come back for me? Maybe he'll fall in love with me?

Wen Na, her face flushed red, decided to name the first child with Rod—Gais.

She stole another glance at Rod's handsome face, and shyly nodded. "Mm, that's okay. If it's Mr. Rod…"

Rod smiled, released her chin. "Good, then it's settled. After the White Dragon Tomb, I'll extract your Lilith bloodline."

"Huh? Lilith bloodline? What do you—huh?"

(End of chapter)