Chapter 177

The Giant Snake Lair was in chaos, so news spread quickly.

The Blood Curved Blade ambushed an elite squad of Golden Dead Spirits, and the news that both sides had perished spread throughout the Giant Snake Lair in just a few hours.

The incessantly noisy Giant Snake Lair instantly fell silent.

Dozens of big and small forces tightened their manpower, urgently recalling elite experts sent out, while issuing strict orders forbidding their subordinates from causing trouble during this period.

Everyone stared at Blood Curved Blade and Golden Dead Spirits, this pair of mortal enemies, eager to see what they would do.

If the two sides go all-out in a desperate clash… that would be too perfect.

Best if both sides suffer losses.

Then many enthusiastic people would eagerly rush to help the dying ones end their suffering completely, and enthusiastically help bury their corpses, most efficiently handling their remaining assets.

Blood Curved Blade's base lay in the middle of the Giant Snake Lair; here there was a small lake a dozen li in radius, surrounded by towering stone pillars and stalagmites, and relying on the dense pillars and stalagmites, Blood Curved Blade built dozens of stone forts of various sizes.

Thick, sturdy stone forts are naturally reserved for elites.

Near the stone forts, Blood Curved Blade erected many tents and huts; hide tents housed ordinary warriors, while the neatly arranged rows of huts beside the trenches were naturally inhabited by Blood Curved Blade's slaves.

The crisscrossing trenches encircled a region a hundred li square; countless figures swayed in the trenches; the False Sun above shed dazzling light; occasionally swords and crossbows reflected a piercing cold gleam.

Several sneaky figures lay on the ground, slowly crawling toward Blood Curved Blade's outer trench.

They gradually approached the trench; when they saw the outer trench was less than ten-odd meters away, the ground suddenly collapsed, and several fell into a pit, being shredded by the dense spikes inside.

A lizardman poked half his head out of the trench, bellowing at the mushroom cluster hundreds of meters away: "You scum of the Golden Dead Spirits, if you've got guts, come charge our grandpas' line… if not, crawl back to suck your old mother's milk—don't skulk about, making a fool of yourself."

A deep, muffled bowstring twang rang out, and a cold light shot forth.

A large hand seized the lizardman's neck, shoving him back into the trench; a six-foot-plus all-metal arrow nearly grazed his scalp, sinking deep into the mud behind the trench.

The six-foot-plus arrow plunged entirely into the earth, leaving on the surface only a thumb‑sized hole that still faintly emitted heat.

Inside the trench a chaotic scuffle of footsteps sounded; a dozen or so Blood Curved Blade guards stationed there had barely moved when the just‑buried arrow detonated violently.

A tremendous blast hurled a four‑to‑five‑meter patch of earth skyward, shrapnel spraying everywhere, dust choking the air; seven or eight slaves screamed as flying stones broke their bones, hurling them away in wailing heaps.

Suddenly a killing shout rose from the mushroom thicket; dozens of red‑faced, wild‑eyed rat‑people, clearly berserk, screamed and charged toward the trench.

Just then, within the chaotic trench, dozens of lizard archers sprang up, drew their light wooden bows, and loosed a volley of light poisoned wooden arrows.

The arrows flew like wind; though the wooden bows lacked power, the arrows were light, range about a hundred meters, yet sufficient against these rat‑people.

The arrows were coated with deadly viper venom; once the skin was nicked, the toxin entered the bloodstream, the rat‑people's hearts raced, purple‑blue bruises blossomed under their skin, and their steps grew unsteady.

But they had charged too fast; they ultimately reached the trench's edge, where dozens of rat‑people simultaneously exploded.

Each rat‑person carried over a hundred mining‑type thunder‑stones used for blasting ore, the Black Snake Domain's blasting thunder‑stones, more powerful than those used by the Wu Tie stone‑fort miners.

Each blasting thunder‑stone could shatter a seven‑to‑eight‑meter boulder; with over a hundred per rat‑person, dozens of them bore thousands of such massive weapons.

Continuous booms echoed as black mushroom clouds rose hundreds of meters; trench sections collapsed, bodies were launched into the air, and under the immense shockwave they were torn apart like rag dolls.

A stretch of trench over two li long was flattened completely; the surroundings fell dead silent; distant scouts from various factions blew whistles, some shouting in a provocative tone: "The Golden Dead Spirits' men are tougher than Blood Curved Blade's!"

Apparently provoked by those blatant taunts, within Blood Curved Blade's territory, in several hut areas, large gangs of rat‑people and dwarves in tattered hide armor brandished finely forged iron weapons and charged out.

Nearly three thousand slave warriors, faces flushed, eyes flashing with mad ferocity, howled "ah‑ah" as they rushed toward the mushroom forest beyond the trench.

The watching scouts in the distance burst into laughter, someone clapping and stomping, shouting "Truly brave!"

On the wind came the "ding‑ding" of coins striking; someone was taking bets on Blood Curved Blade's assault, wagering who would win this charge.

Likewise, a frenzied, mad howl rose from the mushroom forest.

About three thousand rat‑people, dwarves, and a few lizard archers surged from the mushroom forest, shouting loudly, their formation chaotic as they rushed several hundred meters before slamming head‑on into Blood Curved Blade's mass of slaves.

Thousands of fighters, possessing no cultivation to speak of, relying purely on brute strength, became a tangled melee.

They had definitely been fed a special potion; they felt no pain, knew no fear, and fought like mad beasts.

After a quarter hour, all slaves on both sides lay dead, none survived.

On the wind came angry curses… it turned out to be a draw, every bettor losing everything.

In the mushroom forest and behind the trench in the hut area, huge beasts stepped onto the battlefield, their bodies reeking of thick blood‑smell; they sniffed the blood‑soaked corpses, then opened their mouths and feasted.

After the beasts devoured every corpse on the field, over a hundred of them turned and left together, without any clash.

These beasts were worth more than those slaves.

The mushroom forest fell silent; in the hut area, a group of gray dwarves rushed out, grabbed assorted tools, and began repairing the trench that had just been blown apart.

Blood had turned the mud into black slurry; the gray dwarves worked swiftly in the blood‑reeking mire, soon digging a deeper trench on the spot; the blood‑mixed slurry dried quickly, and thanks to its adhesive quality, these trenches became far sturdier than before.

For several days straight, Blood Curved Blade and Golden Dead Spirits kept fighting like this.

Neither side sent out many Foundation Establishment cultivators; at most they dispatched three to five thousand low‑status slaves to brawl.

Similar clashes occurred dozens of times, slave casualties on each side exceeding a hundred thousand, yet both leaders seemed extraordinarily patient, nobody rashly committing elite fighters to the field.

Wu Tie's forehead, cheeks, and exposed chest skin sprouted hundreds of black, glossy scales; his skull grew unusually thick, his jaw slightly protruded, his nostrils became coarse, and his breath carried a faint heat.

A one‑foot‑long black horn sprouted from the center of his forehead, the dark horn looking weighty.

He stood nearly three meters tall, burly and mighty; beneath his slightly dark skin lay blocks of bulging muscle; he bore a completely black White Tiger Split, over four meters long and as thick as a man's thigh, like carrying an iron pillar, and strode heavily into the Great Dragon Cavern.

This appearance resembled the dominant dragonfolk of the Fire Dragon Domain adjacent to the Black Snake Domain, but his bloodline wasn't that pure; he should be a half‑dragon hybrid.

The dragonfolk are famed for their huge stature, immense strength, and unyielding vigor, plus exceptionally tough bones and formidable defense.

Moreover, they are rash and overbearing by nature, cruel and violent, simple‑minded yet extremely gregarious.

Thus, in the surrounding great domains, dragonfolk need not be provoked; even the most vicious, treacherous outlaws of the Black Snake Domain would not rashly offend them.

Heroic and vigorous, he kicked aside a gray rock lizard blocking the road with its cargo, Wu Tie stormed into the Great Dragon Cavern, stood in the middle of the passage, and looked left and right at the disorderly hut area at the exit.

In the hut area, merchants hawking their wares with slick talk glared like knives at Wu Tie's tall, burly frame, then instantly shifted their gaze, pretending not to have seen him.

In terms of combat ability, temperament, and backing, dragonfolk are poor trading partners; these fellows will attack at the slightest disagreement, killing and burning as routine, and they are personally strong with the dragonfolk clan behind them, so it's best not to provoke them.

Wu Tie grinned, shouldering the White Tiger Split, and stepped step by step toward the depths of the Giant Snake Lair.

Passing a spacious hide tent, Wu Tie suddenly halted, examining the large hide hanging outside the door.

The untreated hide gave off a strong fishy odor; on it, written in crooked red characters, were the four large characters "Recruit Troops and Buy Horses".

Above the animal hide, on the door frame of the tent, a half‑chi‑long blood‑colored curved blade was inlaid there, flashing with a blood‑red chill that made one's heart tremble.

Several weak‑strength dwarves stood beneath this animal hide; their skin was faintly red, their eyes also showed a hint of blood‑red, their small faces had twisted muscles, and their expressions were ferocious and vicious.

These fellows were not the gentle, compliant rock dwarves familiar to Wu Tie, but their distant relatives — the blood dwarves known for their brutality and deceit.

Blood dwarves excel at bullying the weak and fearing the strong; combined with their cruel, deceitful nature, many illegitimate powers like to keep large numbers of blood dwarves as low‑level cannon‑fodder troops.

"Big, big guy… what are you looking at?" The blood dwarves' innate talent for bullying the weak and fearing the strong kicked in perfectly; seeing Wu Tie, who was almost three times their height, suddenly stop before them, several blood dwarves immediately stepped back a dozen paces, adopting a posture ready to flee at any moment.

"You… here… are you recruiting?" Wu Tie pointed at that huge animal hide.

Several blood dwarves stared, glanced with a hint of awe at Wu Tie, who towered over them, and a slightly older‑looking blood dwarf stepped forward two paces, carefully kowtowing to Wu Tie.

"Honorable sir, your strength must be as immeasurable as your stature... We are subordinates of the Blood Curved Blade; our chief said we are going to war with the Gold Nether Spirit, so we sincerely invite an expert like you to join us."

In blood dwarf culture, the larger a creature's size, the greater its strength.

So when they realized Wu Tie wasn't coming to cause trouble, they immediately offered him their full respect.

"Do you provide food? Pay? Any other benefits?" Wu Tie raked his exposed chest several times; his sharp claws scraped violently against the black scales on his chest, sending out a spray of bright sparks.

With a "hng‑hng" cough, Wu Tie spat a mouthful of saliva onto the ground.

"Pa!"

On the hard rocky ground, Wu Tie's spit blasted out a hole half‑chi deep.

Several blood dwarves sucked in a cold breath at once... an expert, a great expert, a truly formidable expert.

"Food… pay… other benefits, indescribable benefits — as long as you achieve merit, you can become a squad leader, a chief, a lord… ah, good food, good drink, and the most beautiful women… countless benefits." Several blood dwarves lunged forward, throwing themselves at Wu Tie's feet, one hand reverently stroking his exposed feet while the other shouted loudly.

"With so many benefits? Alright, I'll join you." Wu Tie laughed brightly: "Achieving merit? That's just killing people! Well, I can't do anything else — killing is what I'm best at."

Several blood dwarves trembled all over with excitement.

They hurriedly reported to Wu Tie that the true Blood Curved Blade expert in charge of recruitment wasn't here but was waiting nearby; they sent two blood dwarves to guide him, eagerly leading him to find the actual high‑level recruiter.

Wu Tie laughed, turned his head, and saw that across from this Blood Curved Blade tent, less than fifty meters away, the entrance of another huge tent was likewise stared at by several blood dwarves.

On that tent's door frame hung the Gold Nether Spirit emblem deeply etched in Wu Tie's memory.

Seeing Wu Tie stride off with the Blood Curved Blade's people, the blood dwarves over there muttered a few low words, then hastily split into two and darted into the chaotic shanty area.