Chapter 43: Lizard Swamp (Part 1)

"I understand. Your Majesty must also understand that I understand." The Marquis's words sounded a bit awkward, but his tone and voice were serious and cautious. The meaning behind his words was clear, especially since both parties were fully aware of the situation.

The current circumstances were indeed different from before. The successive deaths of Aescher and Knight Tamik indicated that the Pope had few capable people left by his side. Yet, the hilt of the Dark Star Sword had reappeared. At this point, mutual suspicion and scheming would only waste time and energy. The Pope's decision to speak privately and express such thoughts made his intentions clear. For people like them, who were deeply calculating and complex, alliances, loyalty, and negotiations were meaningless. The only thing that could bring them together was a common goal.

"Good. It's good that you understand." The Pope nodded with a smile. In this situation, the question of trust no longer existed. A relationship built on shared goals and interests was the most solid. Since the other party had made their stance clear, the Pope could now consider them a reliable ally. "You have no ambition for power. As for me, I have become numb to power... or perhaps, I have seen through it. From observing Emperor Decken, I learned that one's ambition should not be too great, or it will ultimately consume them." The Pope touched the armrest of his large chair and smiled. "So, I am quite content with my current position."

"Your Majesty is wise, understanding the balance of advance and retreat." The Marquis bowed. Ascending to a high position was sometimes not difficult, but knowing where to stop was the true challenge. There were many examples of those who climbed too high only to fall and shatter, and such cases would never cease.

"I am also aware of Akibard's prophecy. Initially, I didn't pay much attention to it, but the establishment of Orford and the recent series of events have left me somewhat puzzled. However, no matter what happens, I will not allow this world to change." The Pope remained seated in his chair, his expression unchanged, but his voice was no longer calm and indifferent. His gaze was not sharp but solemn and authoritative, not like a mountain or the sea, but like the most powerful old man on the continent. "Whether it's the orc city-state or the legendary Lich King, none of them will change this continent under my watch. This is not just my will, but also the will of countless believers across the land."

"Now, let's communicate properly. I know you must have information that I am unaware of, perhaps even things beyond my capabilities. While these things may not be useful in your hands, if we discuss them together, they might prove valuable..."

"Thank you for your trust, Your Majesty. I will share everything I know." The Marquis nodded without hesitation.

Outside the Pope's study room, it was naturally impossible for anyone to eavesdrop on their conversation. However, it was not difficult to learn that the Pope had summoned the newly appointed Cardinal Inham into his study for a secret discussion that lasted the entire afternoon. Thus, a day later, the news had already reached Theodorus' hands.

The message was delivered by a trained dragonfly, a method that was the fastest aside from teleportation magic. Theodorus frowned as he read the letter from Celeste in the city hall, his brow deeply furrowed. After a long silence, he called for a lizardman messenger and said, "Tell Lord Borugan that capturing and taming the wild bulls should be our top priority. Everything else can wait. Also, have Lord Borugan temporarily take over the duties of the city lord. I need to make a trip."

The depths of the Lizard Swamp were no longer the desolate and tranquil place they once were. A road had been carved from the edge of the wilderness highlands deep into the swamp, and the outermost parts of the swamp had been transformed into fertile fields, with vast stretches of crops growing there.

Only the combined efforts of Orford's lizardmen and other orcs could have accomplished such a massive and difficult project in this once-forbidden and treacherous land. The plants, modified by elven magic, not only adapted to the swamp's soil but also grew at an astonishing rate, producing large berries and tubers within a month.

These tubers and berries were not for the orcs to eat. The orcs now consumed fine grains and meat produced in the highlands. Everything here was for raising the wild bulls.

The wyverns had been nearly wiped out in the last battle with the church's allied forces. It seemed impossible to replenish their numbers in a short time, so the focus of the taming efforts had shifted to capturing and taming the wild bulls.

The road was almost reaching the deepest part of the swamp. The trees grew denser, the swamp's miasma thickened, and the environment became increasingly hostile. If not for the fact that among Orford's lizardmen there was a swamp lizardman who originally lived here, no amount of manpower or resources could have allowed them to venture this far.

"Sir, they say this is the limit. Going further might encroach on the territory of the Swamp God," the half-orc adjutant carefully translated the lizardman leader's words to Lord Borugan.

Lord Borugan, with his massive head, nodded indifferently. His hair was as messy as the surrounding forest, making him look even more disheveled than the half-orc beside him. "Ah, they must be talking about the legendary hydra. Personally, I'd love to see this creature that only exists in bestiaries..."

The half-orc adjutant waved his arms anxiously, his ugly face twisted into a green knot. "Sir, that's a deity in the lizardmen's legends. Please don't do anything reckless."

"Alright, alright, I know. The books say it's as tough to deal with as a behemoth. I don't have time to provoke it." Lord Borugan waved his hand impatiently, then hesitated. "But if we could steal a few hydra eggs like we did with the baby behemoths, hatch them, and raise them, they'd be a formidable force..."

A loud crash interrupted his thoughts. A massive wild bull collapsed to the ground, splattering mud and water everywhere. An ogre's giant axe had struck the bull's neck, but even the finely crafted dwarven axe and the ogre's immense strength couldn't decapitate the bull in one blow. The numerous wounds on the bull's body were the main reason it had fallen.

"There's only one old bull left. Be careful..." An ogre warrior's warning was cut short as the semi-crazed old bull charged and sent him flying. Even the ogre, a mountain of flesh compared to humans, was no match for this monster. Just yesterday, a orc had been crushed, its ribs shattered, and its face disfigured by the corrosive gas spewed by the bull.

Another ogre warrior let out a roar and rushed forward, wrapping his arms around the old bull's neck. But the bull's pitch-black eyes glowed, and a faint dark magical wave surged from them, engulfing the ogre. The once-energetic ogre suddenly convulsed and then collapsed like an empty sack.

"Damn it, it's a bull king! Kill it quickly. I told you to be careful!" Lord Borugan shouted.

A strangely dressed ogre bellowed, holding a massive staff-like object. As he finished his incantation in the ogre's unique language, several orcs and ogres were enveloped in a red magical glow. Magic wasn't exclusive to high-intelligence races like humans; the bloodlust spells cast by these ogre shamans were no weaker than those of high-level mages.

A orc chanted a spell in perfect articulation, and a bolt of icy lightning struck the bull's head, instantly freezing a large portion of it. Then, the orc charged forward with a strange, massive longsword in hand.

The sword pierced the bull's side, and hot blood gushed out. The weapon, made from a behemoth's claw and inscribed with magical runes, was more effective at piercing the bull's scales than the ogre's axe. The hot blood carried a scorching smell, as the fire magic on the blade burned the bull's internal organs.

The bull let out a muffled cry, its head still encased in ice. Before it could struggle, the other ogres and orcs brought their weapons down on it. Blood and scales flew everywhere as the bull, despite its thick armor and strong vitality, couldn't withstand the onslaught and collapsed.

With the most powerful adult bulls dead and the rest captured with varying degrees of injuries, the orcs quickly rounded up the remaining juvenile and female bulls. Capturing wild bulls always required such brute force; only by killing the strongest could the rest be subdued. Even with the orcs' combat prowess and efficiency, casualties were common in this kind of work.

The ogre struck by the bull king's death gaze had already died. This rare monster's death stare could kill even a wyvern instantly. The surrounding ogres let out a few mournful cries and carried their comrade's body away.