Chapter 480: The Times Are Changing Too Fast

Regardless of what kind of thoughts the carpenter who was good at firing guns had after seeing the "tractor of the United Kingdom of Gu Ta Fu," the lizardmen of the Southwest Swamp didn't have the slightest thought of wasting heaven for this steel monster.

Old chieftain Tartak stood on a slightly raised highland on the edge of the tribe's camp, his muddy eyes wide open, his wrinkled chin almost falling to the ground.

He was like a stone statue weathered for a thousand years, staring blankly at the scene of bustling activity below, as if he had even forgotten to breathe.

In just one day, this dead swamp had completely changed its appearance.

On the second day after the merman tyrant named Kunga died, the Campbell construction team pressed the path connecting the Southwest Swamp to the outside world into a straight dirt road, and the mighty construction team poured in like a tide.

They brought clamor, brought fireworks, and even brought wonders that the local lizardmen, who drank blood and ate hair, never dared to imagine—

Only to see a steel monster let out a roar that shook the sky and earth, swinging its long neck and huge iron claws, every swing easily tearing open the soft and stubborn mud.

Not only that.

Even the silted river channels that the bravest warriors in the tribe could do nothing about were as fragile as rotten wood in front of it.

The waterway that once required hundreds of tribesmen to spend a whole rainy season to barely dredge, it only took one morning to get it done!

The unimproved swamp land is not suitable for most crops to grow due to hypoxia and soil water saturation, but the organic matter inside is quite rich.

If the accumulated water in the swamp land can be drained and scientifically managed, the land of the Southwest Swamp is not impossible to become fertile.

The Campbell people don't understand what science is, but the players from another world know it too well!

Now is the time to enclose land!

For the respected Demon King!

Tartak's surprise hadn't ended yet; the ability of the Invincible Group wasn't just excavators, and those metal brackets used for lifting shovel buckets were also moved into the swamp land together.

These metal brackets weren't used for digging pits, but for lifting the logs transported into the swamp land and accurately placing them in designated positions.

Originally, this work also required huge manpower, just like dredging the silted river channels. However, now, those most strenuous tasks seemed to have become the easiest errands?

In addition to the advanced tools, those guys who were clearly taller than the Campbell people also exuded the light of faith.

They shouted slogans he couldn't understand, their voices excited and loud, seeming to contain some mysterious power!

"Oooooh! Data pack! Data pack! I love the dog planner!"

"Liver it to death! Contribution points doubled, brothers! And underworld coin rewards! This cake is much bigger than Wheat Field Village!"

"Holy crap—why are there so many people, which grandson went to the official website to write a guide again?!"

Although he couldn't understand what they were saying, Tartak could feel that crazy energy, making him couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Those human laborers who seemed to be Campbell people seemed to be influenced by these people, and were also infected by that fanatical atmosphere.

This time Tartak understood.

Most of the lizardmen in the Southwest Swamp knew some human language, otherwise he wouldn't have known so much about Lei Ming City.

"For Saint Xisi!"

"For His Highness Edward!"

"For the land! For wife and children—"

And the houses in the suburbs of Lei Ming City!

Under the roar of the steel giant beast and the shouting of the crowd, wooden houses with unique and sturdy shapes rose from the ground at an unimaginable speed.

Mr. Ai Sa Ke Jifeng from the United Kingdom of Gu Ta Fu indicated that this kind of wooden house is called a stilt house, most suitable for the damp environment here.

As for why lizardmen need to be moisture-proof, that is unknown; Tartak didn't ask, and that Mr. Ai Sa Ke didn't explain to them.

Except for the high base and the angular main structure, the roofs of these wooden houses were also integrated with an artistic style similar to the "Saint Clement Cathedral"—towering and thin, heavy and mysterious, as if it were a miracle descended by some crazy god.

【Jade-Faced Hand-Tired King】 finally implanted the Gothic aesthetics he had realized into the lizardmen's architecture, although the actual effect looked like a "shack" for little murlocs no matter how you looked at it.

Actually, it didn't matter.

Even the most garbage art modeling was a new building compared to the mud sheds of the Hewan Tribe Alliance.

Several Stone Lizard elders who were also shocked beyond measure came to Tartak's side, their faces mixed with indescribable emotion and awe.

"Chieftain..."

"You are simply... too visionary!"

"Worthy of being the wisest person in a thousand years of our Stone Lizard clan, those damn human beings are actually willing to build houses for us for free! It is truly an honor to have a chieftain like you!"

The elders said excitedly, their eyes looking at Tartak full of worship, and Tartak's mouth couldn't help but curl up, a smile on his old and calculating face.

Free, of course, is impossible.

But how to pay still has many ways of saying it.

A rotten log that no one wants rots in the swamp, or is taken outside and sold for money, and then sharing the two points of benefit brought back with the tribesmen is certainly a good thing for the ordinary people of the Stone Lizard clan.

Tartak is different from Kunga.

Kunga would rather let the meat rot in the pot than have it all belong to himself. Even if he sold it for four points of benefit, he had to stuff it all into his own pocket.

But Tartak is a local lizardman after all, and he truly has feelings for this land, not just treating it as his own forbidden area. He certainly knows clearly in his heart that letting the young guys in the tribe follow Kunga to fight south and north is not as good as finding them a factory to work in; the former requires shedding blood, while the latter only requires shedding sweat.

Mr. Ai Sa Ke, representing the United Kingdom of Gu Ta Fu, gave him a batch of aid loans with interest so low it could be ignored, and he took out half of the money the first time to improve the tribe's infrastructure.

Including dredging waterways and building roads, including letting tribesmen move into new houses.

As for how to spend the remaining half of the loan...

That is another way of saying it.

"It's truly incredible," an elder couldn't help but sigh with envy, "the humans outside... have they actually become so powerful?"

"That idiot Kunga! He actually dared to dream of challenging such an existence, truly not knowing life from death!" the third elder spat, his tone full of lingering fear and celebration, "Fortunately, our chieftain is wise and followed that so-called... trend of the times!"

The elders talked all at once, praising Tartak and lifting him to an unprecedented height.

Only one elder who looked younger frowned and asked a question that puzzled him.

"However... Chieftain, I still don't quite understand. Didn't that envoy with wings say that the subjects of the Dragon God are coming to take us home? They are building on a large scale here now, do they intend to take these houses away together when the time comes?"

This question was indeed a bit young.

On Tartak's old face with wrinkled scales, a meaningful smile appeared, without the slightest bit of the confusion he had when meeting Mr. Ai Sa Ke earlier.

"Kolgak, my child, whether the subjects of the Dragon God take us home or not doesn't matter at all... do you really think the Jiana Continent is the Holy Land? If that were truly the case, the one coming to take us wouldn't be the Dragon God's messenger, but the Dragon God himself."

The elders were stunned, some lizardmen understood the meaning of this sentence, and some lizardmen had a half-understanding expression on their faces.

Tartak didn't explain, his muddy gaze sweeping over the vibrant construction site below, wisdom flashing in his eyes.

"What they say doesn't matter at all."

"Whether they are the Dragon God's servants or Saint Xisi's running dogs, whether they are mortal enemies or close friends, it's just a matter of you and me touching our upper and lower lips... what truly matters is what they have brought us, and where they will lead us."

Tartak knew very well that in front of Grand Duke Edward and the king of that so-called United Kingdom of Gu Ta Fu, he and his tribesmen were just insignificant little people. Let alone sitting at the table to play chess, they didn't even have the qualification to sit at the end of the long table and listen.

He didn't even see clearly how many people were sitting at the table, and who the two people who were truly arm-wrestling were.

Forcing oneself to the table is Kunga's end.

But little people have little people's way of living.

Although the Stone Lizard clan cannot decide their own destiny, it is very easy to seize the opportunities of the times and hold tight to the thighs that reach in.

Compared to the Campbell people who are fighting south and north, they are not necessarily less lucky.

As long as his tribesmen are no longer hungry and cold, and no longer live in shacks that leak rain in winter and wind in summer, he can close his eyes in peace.

Tartak is a clear-headed chieftain.

But the Hewan Tribe Alliance is not all clear-headed lizardmen, including the mermen who have firmly occupied the entire tribe alliance.

Kunga's death did not deter them, but instead aroused the backlash of the merman tribe.

The remnants of the "Grey Fin tribe" under his command, as well as several ancient merman tribes that had hated land species for generations, refused to accept the so-called "New Era."

However, they were very smart, knowing that they had no chance of winning against Campbell's cavalry, so they broke into pieces and scattered in the swamp land, hiding in dark waterways and deep in the woods, launching sneak attacks on the supply teams transporting construction materials under the cover of night.

It has to be said that the combat power of life-profession players is indeed not very good; if Brother 【One Leaf Knows Autumn】 were here, I'm afraid they wouldn't even have the chance to ambush.

The "Campbell people" were caught off guard.

However, what made these mermen unable to understand for a while was that those big guys didn't have fear after losing a few companions, but instead erupted with "morbid excitement," howling words they couldn't understand, and then organized a larger-scale "punitive expedition" to rush back.

"Farming monsters, brothers!"

"It was the NPCs who made the first move! Kill them back!"

"Oooooh! Mine! Experience! All mine!"

"Red name! It's a lizardman raider! I saw it! Their names are red!"

The gang members in the suburbs of Lei Ming City were not their opponents, and the lizardmen in the swamp were certainly not their opponents either.

Especially when a "big smart guy" hid a rotary machine gun on a supply vehicle, pretending to be empty of defense, luring the merman raiders to invade.

Just when this bunch of ignorant fools approached, that guy suddenly played dead, shook the handle and opened fire, beating the group of merman raiders until they were dizzy.

The bullets were like raindrops!

The lizardmen of the Old Continent received the baptism that the Saint Ankylosaurus Kingdom had once received.

Where had this group of sea pirates wandering on the Whirlpool Sea ever seen such terrifying firepower, and they thought they had been attacked by a full thousand-man team of the Campbell Principality!

After paying huge casualties, these remnants of Kunga learned to be smart.

They no longer picked those dangerous supply teams to attack, but assassinated the "Campbell people" scouts who went deep into the swamp to reclaim land and explore the map.

This time they picked the right target, but also offended the wrong person.

When the third scout's body was found by the water gate of the construction site, the new master's patience was clearly at its limit.

On this day, Tartak was inspecting the foundation of a row of newly erected stilt houses, when a thin figure appeared behind him silently.

"Chieftain Tartak."

That voice was like a boot stepping on a swamp covered with dead leaves, making the old chieftain's heart jump, and he turned around tremblingly.

He saw that person's face; it was Zerik, the patriarch of the Guardian clan, said to be the "Special Zone Governor" who came from the United Kingdom of Gu Ta Fu to guide their work.

Although he always felt that he looked like he came from the labyrinth next door, not at all like he came from the distant Jiana Continent.

"Zerik... my lord." Tartak bowed his head respectfully, not daring to look at those cold eyes, as if looking at them one more time, his aging soul would be taken away.

"There are a few mice, gnawing on the master's granary."

Zerik's voice was flat, as if he were talking about a trivial matter unrelated to himself, and as if he were suppressing anger, "They are hiding in the mangrove forest at the estuary, refusing to accept the 'Dragon God's' kindness... what do you think we should do?"

Tartak swallowed his saliva.

"Whatever you say, my lord."

Those guys were seaweed floating from the sea; he didn't care about the life or death of this bunch at all, and didn't even agree to let them stay at the beginning; it was they themselves who insisted on staying.

As for those young guys who were fooled by them...

Let them ask for their own blessings.

Even the Dragon God couldn't protect all the lizardmen, so what kind of ability did he, a chieftain, have to save all his tribesmen?

"That's easy to handle."

Zerik let out a hiss of laughter, and said in a cold and slow voice.

"Chieftain, you are a friend who embraced the New Era first. I think you should be interested in observing how we help those lost souls... find rebirth."

"Observe..."

"Yes." Zerik turned around, those vertical pupils flashing with a strange light in the shadows, "After all, we are all 'subjects of the Dragon God,' and brothers should deepen their understanding, shouldn't they?"

Tartak felt a chill run from his tailbone to his back, unable to say a word of refusal, and could only follow silently behind him.

And at the same time, Tafu, who was dozing off in the Great Graveyard, sneezed again, alertly aiming at the bottom of the basket.

Very good—

Alakto is not here!

She breathed a sigh of relief, turned over, and continued to sleep.

Recently, she had been laying eggs every day, and she felt that her body was about to be hollowed out by the Demon King.

At the estuary's mangrove forest, the air was filled with a rich salty fishy smell and the stench of rot.

The twisted tree roots were like claws from the abyss, stretching out from the black mud, intertwined, forming a natural labyrinth.

Sunlight was shut out, and only a few wisps of light passed through the dense canopy, illuminating the blood and oil floating in the water.

Those tree roots were not necessarily formed naturally.

Standing in the shadows of the forest were several pointed-eared figures wearing cloaks; they had pale skin and cold eyes, as if looking at hundreds of dirty mice.

Under their gaze, deep in a twisted bush, hundreds of stubborn lizardman raiders were forced to a dead end.

They backed against a tree root that could not be crossed, facing a group of silent Guardian clan warriors, desperately waving rusty fish forks and bone knives.

Under the leadership of the Demon King, the Guardian clan of today was no longer the little bug they could handle at will, let alone mixed with many of the Demon King's "Chosen Ones."

The merman leader who led them had one eye blinded, letting out a desperate roar: "Land scum! And you reptiles who betrayed the swamp! You don't want to—"

Zerik had no interest in listening to his nonsense.

He stood on a dry highland, side-by-side with Tartak, looking coldly at this group of desperate warriors.

Tartak's eyes widened and he cursed.

"Shut up! The Stone Lizard clan was originally a lizard on land; you bunch of goldfish who swam ashore, what right do you have to say that about us!"

This sentence made the merman leader's fins crooked with anger, but he couldn't say any words of refutation for a while.

Those young guys of the Stone Lizard clan who followed the mermen to raise trouble wanted to say something, but they had no strength at the moment.

Tartak softened his tone and said in an earnest voice.

"For the sake of us all believing in the Dragon God, it's not too late for you to turn back now—"

His words hadn't finished when Zerik turned his head, looking at the old chieftain with the eyes of looking at an idiot, as if the latter had said something stupid.

"Surrender? Chieftain Tartak, what are you talking about?"

Lizardmen believe in the Dragon God, that's true.

But the one he believes in is the Demon King, just acting in the name of the Dragon God now.

Without waiting for Tartak to open his mouth, the patriarch of the Guardian clan looked forward again, saying slowly in a cold voice.

"My master needs obedience, needs absolute order and cohesion; these stubborn traitors are like rust growing under his authority. That's right, they... are 'waste'."

"And my mission," a trace of fanaticism appeared on his pale face, "is to transform 'waste' into... 'resources'."

Zerik never looked at those desperate mermen and lizardman raiders again, just raised his arms lightly towards the shadows behind him.

"Purify them."

The dozens of Guardian clan acolytes he brought had been standing solemnly in the rear like ghosts.

They didn't chant any natural prayers or Holy Light doctrines that Tartak was familiar with, but chanted evil spells.

That ancient and low voice was like a whisper from Hell, tearing at the nerves of the living with a scorching grimness.

Tartak's face showed a trace of pain, but fortunately, he could endure it, while the corpses crawling at his feet couldn't.

Black mist spread at a speed visible to the naked eye from under the acolytes' feet, rising in wisps from beside the black mud and rotten tree roots.

"Roar—!"

The merman leader forced into a dead end let out a final roar, leading his men to launch a charge.

However, they stopped in horror after rushing out two steps.

In the mud pit between them and the acolytes, something seemed to... move.

A pale, bloated claw suddenly stretched out from the silt, grabbing the ankle of a merman warrior who rushed to the front.

Immediately after, one, two, ten...

The lizardmen who died in the previous battle actually came back to life, crawling up from the shallow water with stiff bodies!

Their faces had rotted, and only two groups of ghostly green fire remained in their eye sockets.

They couldn't make any sound, just opening their mouths covered with silt, pouncing on their former companions like beasts.

"Ah ah ah!!"

Screams rose one after another; the living mermen resisted desperately, but couldn't block the infiltration of death and the blades of the dead.

Bathing in that black mist of death, all the living lizardmen moved slowly, and even had difficulty breathing.

And those corpse ghosts like walking dead became even more agile in the mist, every move full of sharp spirit.

This was no longer war—

But a one-sided slaughter!

Blood dyed the mud black, one merman after another was tackled, had their throats cut, and then stood up again in just a few breaths, joining that slaughter.

Finally, a few mermen couldn't bear this extreme fear.

They threw away their weapons, rushed towards the estuary outside the mangrove forest regardless, crawled and rolled across the shallows, and plunged into the cold and surging sea water.

They swam towards the distance without looking back, swearing never to approach this cursed land again... just as they were when they were driven away from other places.

As for those other lizardmen who couldn't swim and made trouble with the merman tribe, they could only embrace that desperate fate in screams.

The slaughter ended quickly.

Hundreds of stubborn lizardmen were all killed.

As for the general tribesmen of the Grey Fin tribe, they were surrounded by Guardian clan warriors not far from the battlefield.

They didn't dare to pick up weapons at all, huddled in the mud water that didn't pass their knees, trembling like chaff, unable to make any sound, only their teeth were chattering crazily.

The merman tribe couldn't really live in the sea; they were like the Tide tribe of the Jiana Continent, having to build nests and lay eggs on the shore.

Dozens of newly "transformed" corpse ghosts walked with stiff steps, joining the encirclement, quietly waiting for new instructions.

Looking at the tribesmen who had become undead, those faces covered with fish scales were full of horror. What they regretted most at this moment was migrating here with Kunga.

Tafu in the Great Graveyard was sneezing non-stop.

Zerik took the terrified Tartak and walked slowly down the highland, stepping on the floating minced meat to face those survivors.

"And you?"

No one answered.

Zerik smiled, seeming very satisfied with their performance, slowly raised his arms, and comforted these wounded souls in a gentle tone.

"No need to be afraid, our Majesty and the great Dragon God are merciful; he has already forgiven your sins, it's just that I... couldn't bear those ungrateful dead fish, so I gave them a little punishment."

Although he had become a corpse ghost, the merman tribe's utilization of the Guardian clan and the disaster they brought to the Guardian clan, he had learned from other Guardian clan members.

That was a matter of his previous life, that's true, but now that he is the patriarch of the Guardian clan, he can certainly vent this breath for his tribesmen.

Anyway, the Demon King must have acquiesced.

Otherwise, why let him come?

"Let the past be the past," Zerik smiled kindly, saying in a gentle voice.

"From today on, there is no 'Grey Fin' tribe in the world. That name, along with your stupid past, has all been buried."

"You are 'Fishmen tribe'."

"Your mission is to dig mud for the new master. You will use your hands to create miracles on this swamp with us, or... live on in another form."

He looked lightly at those lizardman corpse ghosts standing quietly beside him.

Unlike himself.

They are puppets operated by acolytes, without independent personality or soul.

Under the threat of death, soon mermen reacted, violently smashing their head fins into the silt, begging for mercy in a voice with a crying tone.

"We, we are Fishmen tribe! Dig, dig mud! Praise... Dragon God!"

"Praise Dragon God!" Others followed suit, shouting the name of Gu Ta Fu, and the sound of kowtowing was particularly harsh in the dead mangrove forest.

Tafu in the Great Graveyard was sneezing non-stop.

Zerik smiled with satisfaction.

He turned around, and those corpse ghosts and the newborn "Fishmen tribe" had been driven by the acolytes, lining up towards the bustling construction site.

The "players" loyal to the Demon King would assign them specific work.

In the corners out of the Campbell people's sight, they would become the cheapest and most obedient coolies of the Hewan Tribe Alliance, contributing strength to the construction of the Southwest Swamp.

Until one day the Demon King forgives their sins.

Following beside Zerik, Tartak witnessed all this, but didn't dare to have any action, and didn't dare to say a word of pleading.

He didn't sympathize with those mermen at all, and only felt a pity for those Stone Lizard young guys who scolded him for being weak, not regretful.

At this moment, the old chieftain's biggest feeling was still the changing times, which made him increasingly unable to understand.

The magic that those guys in black robes were chanting was not Dragon language at all, it was clearly undead magic from Hell!

"Didn't expect the Campbell Principality to be so blasphemous, joining hands with the demons of Hell..."

He clearly remembered that humans and Hell were mortal enemies.

Tartak couldn't help but sigh.