Chapter 501: Appraisal and Connections

Rod twisted his wrist, pried the green dagger from Mickey's hand, and kicked him over in one motion.

He gripped hard and snapped the dagger in two.

It didn't snap.

"Oh?"

He held the 【Tremor Soul Blade】 and cast an Appraisal spell on it.

Hmm.

The item was a bit too high-level; the Appraisal couldn't read it.

Can you do anything or not, Tremor Soul Staff?

But then again, there was nothing to be done about it—the 【Appraisal】 inside was just a common-grade skill, and unlike a mage, he couldn't pour in more mana to boost the spell's effect.

Rod glanced at Dimia.

He noticed that although she was paying attention to what was in front of her, the mana inside her body was running wild.

Presumably she was multitasking, secretly searching for any lurking peeping dragon through 【Dragon Sense】.

Forget it, he wouldn't bother her.

"Chris, I remember you know Appraisal, right? I rolled you a 【Banshee Appraisal】 before."

During the party a while back, when he'd allocated her points, this Appraisal skill unique to Banshees had popped out.

The Banshee lifted her chin proudly at his words.

"Of course! When it comes to 【Appraisal】 in the forest, I'd dare say I'm second to none—except that elf, she alone knows more than ten Appraisal spells, so she doesn't count. And except that lich, she's a research-grade professional, so she doesn't count either. And leaving out the spider, that's a racial talent issue, basically cheating, so naturally she doesn't count in the comparison either."

"Once you remove all those, only Little Little Bangde is left. You can't really compare with a little girl, can you?"

"Hehehe, I'm not a little girl anymore, you know!"

Don't tell me that!

Rod awkwardly pinched the bridge of his nose.

He felt a strange mix of embarrassment at realizing his "daughter" had grown up, and a wistfulness that he couldn't be too intimate with her from now on.

Tally came over and hugged his arm.

She asked curiously, "Isn't Little Bangde getting any action yet? If you keep raising her she'll grow up. A good honey peach doesn't need to be ripe to taste—eating it while it's still tart has its own charm, you know."

Shut up, you.

Rod silently recited that the above remarks had nothing to do with him and were purely the unorganized, amoral, lawless personal opinions of the succubus race.

He immediately jumped topics and handed the green dagger to the Banshee:

"Wait, why would an undead need to use the bathroom?"

"Of course you have to go after eating! Generally I only need to absorb the negative energy emanating from the ground or the spiritual energy from humanoid races to survive, but you keep bringing tasty things into the forest, it'd be a waste not to eat them, right? Though, because of my constitution, the impurities in food get broken down very thoroughly, so at most I can only pee."

"You even pee? Gross!"

Tally let out a cold laugh.

Then she turned her head, looking adorably obedient at Rod, and shaking his arm said, "Succubi don't need to excrete, not even pee, so I'm very clean. Master can taste every part of Tally freely~"

She watched Rod's utterly speechless face.

She rested her index finger on her cheek and said innocently, "Could it be that Master is the type who likes pee? Tally can do that too. In my mother's memories, she mentioned that some men like having urine splashed on their faces."

Can we please not talk about pee and poop?

Rod was tired and didn't want to engage with this topic.

"L-ladies? You-you all? This is—"

Not far away, the gray-furred dog-person Nick, still trembling on the ground from exhaustion, stared at Rod and the girls' interaction in shock.

"This— this man, he's enslaving you!"

"None of your business! This is the fun between me and my Master! What would a gelded mutt like you even know?!"

"F-fun?"

Nick's mouth hung half-open, and his understanding of what an enslaver was began to blur.

Rod had no doubts about Tally's judgment of "gelded mutt."

This was a group of dog-people who had suffered enslavement and torture; the horrors on their bodies were beyond imagination.

Like the other seventh-tier in the team, that female dog-person.

She looked to be only about twenty years old, both ears completely cut off, half her face forcibly gouged out, one side of her chest bulging and the other caved in, and when she slightly opened her mouth you could see the tongue-less cavity inside.

The remaining half of her face showed she had been a fairly good-looking girl; one could only imagine what she had been through.

Too tragic.

Rod could tell this was a group whose minds weren't fully mature, whose hearts were still decent, but who'd been driven half-mad by revenge.

"I think you should pay attention to that other guy—he was trying to kill you."

As he spoke.

Rod walked slowly over to the traitor Mickey, who was trying to sneak to his feet, and stepped on his head, pressing it into the dirt.

"Ugh—!"

Hearing the scream, the gray-furred dog-person Nick finally came back to his senses.

He looked in disbelief at this companion who had tried to take his life.

"Mickey... why?"

And aside from the two seventh-tiers, the remaining three dog-people had gathered around.

Wary of Rod on one side, glaring at Mickey pinned to the ground on the other.

By now they could see Rod had been holding back; after all, aside from their own two seventh-tiers who had exhausted themselves of spiritual energy, the rest had only suffered some flesh wounds.

Because his own hide was thick and his flesh tough?

Impossible!

Can't you see the human right in front of you didn't use any defensive spells at all, and dodged the overwhelming sword net of 【Silver Moon Sword Dance】 purely by evasion?!

They had personally witnessed the might of 【Silver Moon Sword Dance】, and it was precisely thanks to this move that they managed, under Nick's lead, to ambush and kill an eighth-rank expert standing guard, thereby successfully escaping that demon's den.

For someone of this caliber before them, dealing with the six of them would be nothing short of slicing melons and chopping vegetables.

"Why? Hahahaha why. Hahahahaha—"

And Mickey, upon hearing the question, burst into mad laughter at the first instant.

The laughter was wild, bizarre, as if he had become a different person.

"Do you know how all twenty-eight members of our clan were lured away to that place? It was my father! He was the one who personally led those people here! Just to exchange two Jin Along for gambling money, hoping to win back the family fortune he'd gambled away! Even me... even me... ah—ngh!"

Mickey suddenly let out a pained cry, cutting off his words.

It was Rod's foot pressing down harder, grinding his head another half-inch into the ground.

"Keep your voice down, why are you yelling so loud? Answer what you're asked, and stop dragging in all this nonsense. What? You have to play the villain with a tragic childhood backstory? Otherwise you don't have a motive? Please, not everything needs a motive."

This Mickey was clearly the type who bullied the weak and feared the strong, a tyrant at home.

Rod had only said a couple of sentences.

Yet he already wore a look of terror, not even daring to meet anyone's eyes.

"My lord!"

The grey-furred dog-man Nick even changed how he addressed him, looking at Mickey with an expression of pity.

"First, I apologize to you and your companion. The experiences we once suffered made us unable to face any form of slavery directly; we utterly despise all slavery without exception. But now we realize there may be other situations where slavery might be used, which is something we didn't understand. Again, our sincere apologies; we will offer compensation.

But before that, could you let me have a word with the fellow under your foot!

What he said, we all knew long ago, and because of it he was ostracized and tormented by the others back in that place. The harm he suffered was no less than ours, so after taking him in, he... he always..."

As he spoke, he began to cry.

He spoke very sincerely.

Plus he had the meek, obedient look of a dog.

Rod, seeing their miserable state, was already soft-hearted, so the little bit of annoyance in his heart naturally dissipated.

But then again.

This fellow was clearly the type who showed infinite tolerance toward his own companions.

Let him go and have a chat? He'd probably get stabbed again.

"Why be soft-hearted? He wanted to kill you. If you don't want to do it yourself, I can handle it for you."

"No, no... let's just talk first, I beg you, my lord."

With things said to this point, Rod couldn't very well keep meddling.

He lifted his foot and stepped back a few paces.

Sure enough, the moment Mickey lost the restraint, he immediately snatched up a broken sword from the ground and rushed over at full speed.

The two seventh-ranks were exhausted, but the remaining three sixth-ranks weren't dead, and without much effort they subdued him again.

After that, Rod couldn't be bothered to keep watching.

He had just turned around to ask the banshee Chris for the appraisal results.

Tally leaped over and hugged him again.

Her pretty little face was full of disbelief: "Why do I feel like Master seems quite interested in this castrated dog? Could it be... Master likes femboys???"

"Who taught you that word?"

"You did! Last time when I took on the little-brother persona, you called me a little femboy."

"..."

She's slandering me.

"It's not really for any reason, just intuition. I always feel there's no small amount of karma on him."

Rod's arm supported her plump bottom, while his other hand pried apart the arms wrapped around his neck.

He pried them apart, she wrapped them around again; he pried them apart again, she wrapped them around once more with a mischievous grin.

This one really is clingy enough.

Whatever.

Letting Tally cling around his waist, Rod looked toward Chris.

"The appraisal results. Tell me."

"What appraisal results?"

The banshee widened her innocent eyes, spread her hands, and put on an utterly clueless face.

"..."

This one's habit of pinching pennies has flared up again.

Not a single one of them is easy to deal with.

"I'll count to—"

"I was just kidding!"

Before he could finish, Chris hurriedly pulled out the green dagger, smiling ingratiatingly:

"It's called 【Emerald Shadow Calamity Blade】, and it has three effects in total:

'Black Dragon Calamity' — affects the wielder's perception; the target will gradually become more suspicious, irritable, or despairing. The more spiritual magic power it absorbs, the effect will spread to the area around the wielder.

'Curse Binding' — when a living being picks up the Emerald Shadow Calamity Blade, it becomes bound to them; the bound one will gradually be eroded by a certain whisper, drifting toward evil.

'Solidity' — not easily destroyed.

Hmm... I can sense that the 'Black Dragon Calamity' energy within is in a kind of delicate balance; it seems there's an extremely hidden timed detonation ritual."

Rod was speechless.

Aside from being sturdy, it's all side effects.

"Look at you — why would you even want this thing?"

"Hehe. I have my own channels, if you don't want it just give it to me."

"Tell me, or you don't get it."

Chrissy hesitated a moment, then said: "With this, I plan to open a fortune-telling shop in Shi Ying Town — pick a target, sneak this thing into their home, wait until they're affected and come seeking help, then I'll put on a show, take the dagger away, and earn a bit that way."

Even as she spoke, she lost the nerve to keep going.

Seeing her master's expression turn sour,

she drifted over, secretly turned her squishy form solid, pressed herself firmly against Rod's broad back, and said ingratiatingly:

"It's just that lately I've seen you, Master, spending quite a lot, so I thought I'd help make up the difference!"

(End of chapter)