Chapter 96

Tyrion cursed loudly, but this could not stop Mormont from charging toward the dragon.

Although he personally liked dragons, he would not recklessly shout and yell beside a magic dragon.

Zhuo Geng

Sir Qiao La

"Roar..." the magic dragon let out a huge angry roar.

The corpses and the mercenaries' flesh were instantly charred by the flames, an awkward smell permeated the dark mountain forest, mixing with the fishy stench, making it unbearable.

Chief Financial Officer

Tyrion worried the magic dragon would open its huge jaws and bite him too; in fact, not only Tyrion but the other surviving mercenaries shared that view, they all kept their distance, watching Mormont and the dragon as if they were monsters.

"Idiot!" Tyrion thought, feeling as if he could almost see the magic dragon suddenly attack him, tearing him apart like the captain, flesh flying.

The huge magic dragon finally seemed to notice the tiny shrimp before it, suddenly turning its massive head toward Mormont.

"Roar..." it bellowed angrily at Mormont.

Tuo Le Mi

Mr. Tuo Le Mi

After roaring in his face, the magic dragon swung its huge body, seized the headless demon corpse lying on the ground, and swallowed it whole.

Wei Si Te Luo Iron Throne

"Scatter!" Ser Jorah shouted loudly, "Gather the demon corpses together."

By now, everyone could clearly see that the magic dragon had descended from the heavens, drawn by the bloody scent of these demons.

The mercenaries quickly dragged the demon corpses together, then watched as the magic dragon feasted heartily.

It swallowed more than ten demon corpses whole, let out a roar, then ran, spread its wings, and flew away.

He came suddenly and left just as suddenly, like this group of demons that appeared out of nowhere.

Is this a joke the gods are playing on him?

What a pity, the captain.

After everything returned to quiet, everyone looked at Qiao La, and even Ti Li Ang did the same.

"Andal, who the hell are you?" Tuolemi asked leisurely.

"Qiao La Mo Er Meng, I already said that ten days ago." Qiao La didn't care about the Chief Financial Officer's questioning.

The picnic group of over two hundred, after demon harassment and magic dragon ambush, now has just over a hundred left. In a short while, they lost nearly half their fighters.

"No, you're hiding something from us." He drew his long sword from its scabbard, and the other mercenaries, seeing this, likewise drew their weapons.

"What do you want to know?" Qiao La Mo Er Meng did not retreat, "I've had plenty of experience; if you want to know, I can tell you anything!"

"You damn well know the magic dragon's name—it sees you like an old friend, we can tell!" Tuolemi held his long sword, not preparing to attack, but the mercenaries behind him had already half-surrounded him. "Tell us, why!"

"I don't think it sees me like an old friend. However, I have indeed seen them before—seen them born from stone, seen them grow, seen them make their first hunt." Qiao La Mo Er Meng said this calmly, "So of course I know its name."

"Who the hell are you?" another mercenary named Qiao Ge demanded.

"Hasn't anyone asked you that already?" Qiao La glanced at him contemptuously, still composed, then turned to the Chief Financial Officer: "I once served the Dragon Queen Danilisi."

"Then why are you here?" Tuolemi demanded.

"Because he's a spy sent by the Iron Throne to the Dragon Queen's side, exposed and expelled." The little demon hurried forward to interject, lest he say something stupid.

Ti Li Ang walked over, smiling, hoping the water just now had washed his face clean.

"Is that so?" Tuolemi asked.

Qiao La Mo Er Meng glanced at the smiling little demon and nodded.

"Ah, if I counted right, we now have a hundred thirty people, including me, a warrior." Ti Li Ang interrupted Tuolemi's further questioning, saying, "Rather than worry about a Dragon Queen traitor, we should think about how our picnic group can survive in the Walantis army." Most importantly, how to stay alive under the next demon's claw.

"You're just a dwarf, what right do you have to join the picnic group?" Qiao Ge said contemptuously, "Besides, you said they either get crushed by gold, or…"

"or be played to death by a woman."

He said while drawing his long blade, walking toward Ti Li Ang. Ti Li Ang retreated two steps, nearly tripping over a corpse beside him.

Qiao La Mo Er Meng drew his sword to block his path, and Ti Li Ang could only respond with gratitude.

"The dwarf is lying." Qiao Ge said.

"He hasn't lied; you're just stupid." Qiao La mocked, "Mercenaries only die these two ways, right? And these demons are creatures of witches, and witches are women too."

Ti Li Ang burst out laughing, "Even the magic dragon is a woman's."

"Let me kill him!" Qiao Ge angrily requested of Tuolemi.

"Damn it, killing a member is a serious crime!" Ti Li Ang replied.

No one paid him any heed.

"Hey, idiot, don't you see where we are?" Ti Li Ang kicked the demon's skull, "We haven't finished the demon road yet, and if I heard right, we still have a third of our gold—do you really want to toss that too?"

He's certainly not an idiot. When the two first joined the group, he suggested the Chief Financial Officer take away the boxes they were carrying, because he thought the boxes certainly contained gold that needed to be kept under unified group custody. Thinking of his expression when he opened the box back then, Ti Li Ang still wants to laugh.

"Let me kill this dwarf!" Qiao Ge flew into a rage.

"You talk too much. If you want to kill a dwarf, first ask my sword." Qiao La said sternly.

"Sir Qiao La, I have a question I hope you'll answer honestly." Tuolemi looked at him, speaking solemnly, "Since you've been expelled by the Dragon Queen, why return to Milin? Don't tell me you intend to go back alone to kill her."

That's a hard question to answer.

"Hey, I thought you'd ask, Sir Qiao La, why you'd risk your life to save us!" Ti Li Ang shouted.

"Hu Ge, save your strength!" He gave a sinister grin, looking at Sir Qiao La, "Sir Qiao La, if you don't answer the question above, we can't trust you."

"There's nothing to hide either," Qiao La slammed his long sword into the ground, "I returned to Milin just to see the Dragon Queen again, so I can serve her."

"You're an expelled traitor, and you still have the face to pledge loyalty?" Tuolemi sheathed his sword, smiling, "What makes you think the Dragon Queen will take you back?"

"Lord Tuolemi, I didn't expect you to be this clever!" the little demon said with a smile, "The box Qiao Ge seized earlier is his gift. The head inside originally belonged to a high official of the Weisiteluo Iron Throne. He not only betrayed the Dragon Queen's father, but also had people kill the Dragon Queen's niece and nephew, making him the Dragon Queen's enemy. With this gift, the Dragon Queen will surely recall her expulsion order."

Tuolemi still gave a light laugh, as if mocking.

"Who killed the dragon queen's father is a kingslayer; let me think—what's his surname?" He smiled, scrutinizing Tyrion. "You're either a Westerosi or a Westerlander; you should be able to remember that, right?"

Ptolemy wasn't completely ignorant of Westeros. Damn, he already knew what was going on, this smart-ass!

"Lannister." Tyrion said, feeling a bitter taste on his tongue.

"I heard that the ones who killed the dragon queen's nieces and nephews are, uh, the Lannisters you mentioned; you won't tell me the head in the box is also a Lannister's, will you?"

He imagined ending Tywin's life, then cutting off the Duke of Tywin's head and taking it overseas…

That image is too beautiful.

If you were to travel all the way with that face, you'd surely run into bad luck.

"The head is Varys's." Mormont replied, "He was a senior minister of the dragon queen's father; after Robert seized the throne, he defected to Robert, and thereafter he kept sending assassins to kill the dragon queen and her brother."

"That does sound like a proper gift. So you joined the picnic team, ready to betray at any moment, huh?" Ptolemy chuckled.

That's another tough question to answer.

"Hey, why not say it's to give our mercenary corps a new option?" If that stupid quartermaster general were still alive, he wouldn't say that. Now even the team leader he's unsure about is dead.

Originally his plan required a certain atmosphere, but now he can't worry about that much.

A game is only fun if it keeps changing, right?

Ptolemy smiled faintly. "Our picnic team isn't the Younger Sons team, nor the Windblown team, nor the Cold Wind team, and certainly not some bravery team…"

"Damn, if I didn't mishear, we're not the Golden Team either." Tyrion laughed. "Our team's motto is 'Feed correctly and wildly' (Feedcorrectlyandwildly), not 'stubbornly picnicking'; our team flag is a little bird eating dead people, not going to eat live dragons. Or should we change the motto to 'Words like gold'? Change the flag to a crow bravely fighting a dragon?"

"The team leader and quartermaster general are dead." Ptolemy still gave a wry smile. "After we elect three leaders, we'll decide how to change it. Hugo, perhaps you could decide the motto then. But if we keep losing this many people, there's no point thinking about a motto—we'll just become seasoning for someone else's picnic."

"Isn't that right, boss? Only the living can gnaw on others' corpses." The little devil liked talking to smart people.

"You're disgusting, Hugo! We don't eat human flesh." Ptolemy gazed up at the dark mountains and forests on both sides.

"How can you become a fat crow without eating human flesh? I dream of becoming the crow on the flag, oh," Tyrion looked at the three crows on the team flag, grinning, "Although I have no nose, my sense of smell is sharp; I can definitely find the best corpses for the other two. What do you say, boss?"

"Hugo, just having a nose isn't enough," Ptolemy burst out laughing, "Heh, at least Hugo isn't enough. We can have a good chat later."

"As long as we have something to talk about." Hugo returned a smile.

"Ser Jorah, since you've been exiled by the dragon queen, you can naturally join our team, and what happened between you and the dragon queen is none of our business. Tell me, are you still a team member?" Ptolemy stroked his beard as he asked.

"If you haven't lost the roster, sir, then that's it." Ser Jorah said solemnly.

"Great. The roster is hidden on the team leader's person, almost destroyed by the dragon." He laughed, "Just a hair's breadth away!"

"It seems my shout at the dragon was just in time." Ser Jorah stared at him.

Ptolemy burst out laughing.

"Ser Jorah, now let's talk about your shout at the dragon." He stopped laughing, "If it weren't for your action, the picnic team would have lost many more people! But since you just said you're still a team member of the picnic team, we don't need to express any thanks—this is just what you're supposed to do, right?"

"Damn, boss, you're such a cheapskate!" Tyrion feigned criticism, then turned his gaze to Jogo. "At least let's give this excellent team member a round of applause! What do you say, Jogo?"

Jogo snorted and walked away.

Ptolemy paid no attention to Jogo, gazing at the two of them with a smile, as if looking at two treasures.

"If the treasurer isn't stingy, he can't guard the vault; my father taught me that from childhood. But my mother said, being generous is the most important thing for a man." He twisted the corner of his mouth into a smile, "Unfortunately, my father never got his hands on money at home, so there's no vault to guard; my mother, meanwhile, isn't a man, so she doesn't need to be generous. So I've always been torn—how should I act to be a good chief financial officer?"

"You damn well better listen to me. 'Boss, as I see it, our picnic team has plenty of troubles; compared to a good chief financial officer, we need a good team leader more—what do you say?'"

"What about the chief financial officer, then?" He grinned.

"Boss, of course it's decided by the brothers' election." Tyrion returned a smile, "But I suggest choosing from those who understand finance."

"But we don't have many who understand finance in our team; maybe there were a few originally, but now they seem all dead—I need to double-check." Ptolemy mused, "And compared to just understanding, the chief financial officer needs to be more loyal, more incorruptible, more reliable."

"If it's the latter, I think there's no one in the whole team more suited than me, boss!" Tyrion laughed, "Some big lord from the Westerlands once entrusted me entirely with his money, and I did a great job."

"What kind of money could you manage, just a Hugo?" He stroked his beard and laughed.

"Owe several million gold dragons." "Boss, this has nothing to do with the name." He didn't quite grasp how much Ptolemy actually knew.

"Of course it's related. We're holding the election tomorrow; we have time to decide slowly." Ptolemy looked at Tyrion, smiling, "Today we'll first clear the corpses. Only our crows get to eat corpses—no one else ever eats ours."

"Boss, of course." Tyrion smiled, "If you don't mind, boss, this crow of mine needs to first find suitable armor."

"If you really are one of those crows, I hope your sense of smell is indeed sharp." The picnic team leader burst out laughing.

"Of course, I will definitely find the best 'corpse' for the picnic team." Tyrion said.