My Players Are So Fierce

1141: 386.

Murphy’s Eye: The Experiences of a Newly Initiated Heretic Pangolin_2

1141: 386.

Murphy’s Eye: The Experiences of a Newly Initiated Heretic Pangolin_2

“You are qualified to have a Mage Tower of your own, though only for now,” Murphy said.

Little Mo Fei had personally rebuilt Transylvania to uphold competition!

Once another powerful spellcaster challenges the organization of your Mage Tower and you fail, then you will lose your Mage Tower.

This is not merely an award or a grace, but also a heavy duty and pressure.

Of course, I know there are always people who dislike competition, so I will leave the choice to you.

Right now, I need to maintain this Reconnaissance Magic, so do not disturb me.”

“Understood, Your Grace,” He Lu said very aptly, bowing deeply while retreating to the edge, concealing his spiritual energy to avoid disturbing the ongoing surveillance magic.

Generally speaking, actions like Murphy’s current long-distance reconnaissance through vision swapping would cause severe mental impact and pressure because adapting to the switch in perspective is not something that can be accomplished in a short time.

However, Murphy often shifted his vision to the high-speed, overhead perspective of the Spirit Vulture Reveno, which was much more dangerous than his current semi-fixed straight-on view, so he didn’t find this troubling or bothersome.

Right now, he was using Hog’s eyes to survey the top floor of the abandoned Mage Tower in the Plague Town, which wasn’t as luxurious as he had imagined a Mage Tower to be.

To be frank, it was as messy as a chaotic construction site.

The dissected carcasses of marshland creatures were carelessly piled to one side as food for three overly large mutant Seat Wolves, and those beasts were unsanitary enough to make the air reek and nauseating.

The various instruments on the nearby experiment table were disorganized and scattered, and although Murphy was only a half-trained summoner and not too familiar with an alchemist’s processes, he could identify at least seven mistakes in the placement of items here, just based on what he had absorbed while in Cui Si’s lab.

“This damned magician doesn’t even bother to wash the used beakers, doesn’t he fear blowing himself up with his own experiments?” Murphy thought to himself.

Since he was borrowing Hog’s vision, his mental complaints were perceived by the tense Hog, surprising the Blood Claw Chief.

Goodness!

So it wasn’t because these mysterious instruments were too profound that he couldn’t understand their use, but simply because they were placed incorrectly?

“No, you can’t understand because you truly can’t understand, it has nothing to do with their incorrect experimental procedure,” Murphy corrected:

“This is a mistake that can only be detected by someone with a very high understanding of spiritual energy rituals.

You have much to learn, Hog.

You might consider trying to become a Jackal Warlock Hunting Priest; I’ve heard that this profession holds high status among the Wolf People.

Kenbort is one such Hunting Priest.

If you want to climb the ranks in the Wolf People’s society, you must learn to use every opportunity to change your image…

We can discuss this later, stay focused!

Tear Flesh is coming!”

The timely reminder from the Vampire Lord snapped Hog, who had been lost in thought, back to attention.

When he raised his head, he saw an aged Jackal Warlock, clothed in a clan-style robe, limping out from the inner chamber.

He was a very old Wolf Man.

This was evident from his shuffling gait and his frail, aged visage; his neck fur had turned completely white and even showed bald patches, looking like a mangy dog.

Yet, with the passage of time, this aged Wolf Man acquired an indescribable air.

He was shrouded in a chilling and ominous aura, like a snake lurking in shadows, sizing up the world outside his cave with venomous eyes.

Those eyes hidden under the hood met Hog’s gaze, causing the Blood Claw Chief to immediately lower his head in fear, cautious not to let those sharp eyes discern his guilt and secrets buried within his soul.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s just a Silver Grade Plague Warlock; it can’t see through the abnormalities on you,” Murphy reassured:

“But if you continue to maintain this guilty demeanor, what happens next is uncertain, you are here to deliver a message.

You are Kenbort’s confidant!

Show some backbone.”

“I am here to deliver a message, my lord!

I am King Kenbort’s confidant,” Hog blurted out nervously, repeating the words Murphy had imparted, which caught the old Jackal Warlock with a strange bone staff off guard.

Following that, he let out a hoarse, malicious, and contemptuous laugh.

He decried:

“Lies!

Kenbort would never consider a maimed mongrel as a confidant; his foolish obsession with pure bloodlines even surpasses his pursuit of power and ambition.

He is a pureblood from Moss Valley and even dared to make grand statements to me upon our first meeting, so how could he ever value you?”

“But it’s true, my lord,” Hog insisted, plucking up courage:

“Perhaps it’s related to my unique experiences.

I was once a prisoner in the vampires’ arena.

Later, I managed to escape with my people amidst the chaos.

I was the one who informed King Kenbort of the secret passage into the vampire city, but King Kenbort trusted the wrong ‘friend.’

He was betrayed by the Wolf Poison Vampires!

Those cunning bastards used us in their attempt to seize control of Crimson Castle.

And it was those midnight bastards that disclosed King Kenbort’s exact location to Blood Vulture Clan’s vampires, causing the king to die in battle after a defeat.”