Chapter 584: 582 Prelude_1
The Sky Breaking Mountain Range extends and undulates, forming a natural barrier on the westernmost border of the Westland.
In the hearts of the Westerners, the Sky Breaking Mountain Range represents the boundary between civilization and barbarism.
However, barbarism’s coveting of civilization never ceases.
When the Orcs were disjointed, Westland could fend for itself. But when the Orcs established a unified Empire, things escalated…
The shifting clouds let through a faint glow of sunlight, which was quickly overshadowed by the dense mountain woods, leaving little light.
Even in daylight, the Sky Breaking Mountain Range exuded a gloomy atmosphere.
Trudging on the rugged mountain path, Viscount Benson panted and asked:
“How much farther?”
Hearing this, the guide leading the way paused his steps. Turning back, he revealed an ugly and savage face—it was an Orc.
“Not far.” The Orcish guide grinned revealing his horrifying tusks.
He stood at a height of three meters, his body muscular. Behind his ears, two spiral horns protruded upwards. Strange colors smeared across his dark green skin, giving off a creepy glow every time he breathed, as if possessed by some peculiar magic.
Viscount Benson seemed to dare not to meet the gaze of this Orc, quickly looked down and hurried along.
The Orc guide snorted contemptuously; a savage glint flashed in his eyes, but in the end, he held it back and continued leading the way forward.
After about three hours, Viscount Benson, worn to the point of fainting, finally arrived at a valley.
The trees in the valley had been cleared out, transformed into a massive camp.
A myriad of disorderly tents scattered across the valley, extending beyond the eye’s reach. Columns of smoke rose from the camp, indicated dinner preparations were underway.
Viscount Benson took several deep breaths to calm himself and fixed his disheveled clothing.
As an envoy of the Glorious Empire, he must maintain his proper manners and deportment.
Of course, if possible, Viscount Benson would not want to take on this task.
Based on past experiences, few envoys sent to the Orcs returned alive.
How could these Orcs, who only knew murder, understand diplomatic courtesies?
But there was no other choice. Emperor Reinhardt had explicitly requested Viscount Benson to go on this mission, and he had to accept his fate.
Viscount Benson also understood clearly; this was the Emperor’s punishment for him. The Benson family’s attempt to curry favor with the North Territory in Falcon City was seen as a betrayal by the Emperor. And now, the reckoning had come.
Following the Orc guide into the heart of the camp, Viscount Benson struggled to maintain composure and dignity. However, the horrifying faces and bared teeth of numerous Orc soldiers along the way left him trembling with fear.
Finally, the Orcish guide halted before a huge tent, markedly different from the rest.
Viscount Benson stood in front of the tent, looking straight ahead, silently praying to the Lord of Glory.
Whoosh—
Tent’s curtain was lifted by a robust hand, and soon, an enormous figure, five meters tall, emerged.
Thump! Thump!
The ground quaked under his feet, and the air filled with the smell of blood with each breath he took.
Viscount Benson strained to lift his head and looked at the colossal figure; his throat contracted uncontrollably, and he found himself unable to utter his prepared greeting.
“What did your human emperor send you to do?”
The heavy voice, overpowering, caused Viscount Benson’s legs to tremble. Stammering, he replied:
“Your Highness… His Majesty wishes… to discuss… the possibility of… peaceful coexistence between the two empires…”
“Peace?” Orc Emperor Saruman bared his horrifying tusks. His gaze swept over the Orc military officers gathered behind. He asked loudly, “Do you accept peace?”
“No!”
“Kill all humans!”
“Waaaaaaaaaagh!”
…
The eerie shrieks and howls from behind left Viscount Benson without any hope. Completely disregarding the etiquette of an envoy and the dignity of the Empire, he dared not to refute the provocative remarks of the Orc Emperor and remained silent with his head low.
At this moment, all Viscount Benson wanted, was to keep his life.
Emperor Saruman couldn’t even bother to look at Viscount Benson again as if deeming one more glance at the cowardly human envoy a waste of time.
Whoooo—
Emperor Saruman drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
A palpable aura of murder filled the entire valley, bringing countless orc warriors to sudden silence. But their eyes were all reddened—
So red as if blood could dribble out of them.
“My warriors, open your eyes and look at the East!” The colossal body of Emperor Saruman stood tall and proud, like a demon god incarnate:
“There, you will find the most beautiful mountains and rivers, the most fertile land, the warmest sunshine, and a habitat suitable for survival. Do you willingly let all these be occupied by such cowardly wastes?”
“No way!”
“Kill all the wastes from the East!”
“Waaaaaaaaaaagh!”
…
Viscount Benson, who initially kept his head low in silence, suddenly stopped trembling. He slowly lifted his head, an amalgamation of anger and fear etched on his face.
But he still struggled to stand upright.
Regrettably, in front of the gigantic Emperor Saruman, Viscount Benson appeared weak, like a frail lamb.
“Saruman!” The viscount stubbornly lifted his head. As if finally enlightened by the knight’s faith, his body still shook, but his tone was unprecedentedly firm, “Humans are not wastes! We also have warriors willing to face death! If you dare cross the Sky Breaking Mountain Range, you will surely be struck by the thunderous counterattack of our warriors!”
Emperor Saruman finally lowered his head, staring coldly at the human knight in front of him. Then, in the next second, his right hand shot down like lightning, easily gripping onto Viscount Benson.
Viscount Benson was unable to move, but he continued to curse vehemently.
Perhaps, having a clear understanding of his fate now, Viscount Benson cursed without holding anything back, passionately.
But soon, the curses turned into terrified screams.
With a slight force, Emperor Saruman tore Viscount Benson’s body in half like a rag doll.
The gushing blood splattered onto Emperor Saruman’s face. He didn’t flinch, instead even extending his tongue to taste a few drops.
“Warriors—” Saruman casually tossed Viscount Benson’s corpse to the ground and roared,
“Charge out!”
“Waaaaaaaaaaagh!”
The clouds in the sky also started rolling with this wave after wave of roars, sweeping Eastward.
…
“Congratulations, my lord Duke!”
“Congratulations Count Angler!”
The banquet hall in Lion Roar Castle was filled with joy and celebration.
Colin escorted Vera into the hall, smiling, and waved to the congratulating crowd to show his gratitude.
Upon walking past the Troll Emperor, Colin paused, moved closer, and quietly said:
“Your Majesty Okamoto, Vera is pregnant. I’m afraid we must refuse your invitation to return the visit.”
A hint of disappointment flashed across Okamoto’s eyes, but he immediately said: “Count Angler, you can represent the Duke to go to the Troll Royal City…”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to find the time either.” Colin interrupted with a smile.
Okamoto still seemed not willing to give up: “Your Excellency, what about the cooperation we discussed earlier…”
“I’m sorry, but I might not be able to fulfill that promise.”
Colin resolutely shook his head, and without waiting for Okamoto to persuade him further, he walked away, holding Vera’s hands.