My Players Are So Fierce

At that moment, under the slightly dim gaslight, Joel wiped a barbarian double-edged battle axe, full of violent style, inside his weapon box.

Its appearance was quite simple and imposing.

The entire body of the axe had no superfluous decoration, only some elegant runes on the handle—magical characters learned by the Mountain People after being blessed by the nature spirits.

Buried deep for four hundred years, this ferocious weapon had not lost even a hint of its vigor; even now, under the light, its gleaming sharp blade still made Joel feel a chill on his neck.

This was not a psychological illusion; indeed, as Joel strained to swing the blade, visible frost freely formed on the sharp edge.

And through that swirling ice mist, the ghostly blue runes of The Fury could scarcely be seen on the blade.

This phenomenon was enough to prove its uniqueness.

This weapon was a cherished possession of the First Generation Count Xike, accompanying him out of the forests to join the massacre of the Black Disaster Jackal Man, and it was central to most stories of the Count’s 137-year life.

It was called “Vam Beheader.”

Just the name alone was filled with legendary allure, as “Vam” was the name of the War God worshipped by the West Sacha Barbarians of the Ice Bay area.

A weapon named after a divine spirit was naturally no ordinary item.

The Beheader Battle Axe was considered mythological among the Mountain People and legends about it also circulated in Kavkhoka and even the Great Wilderness area.

Because the First Generation Count Xike was once a close friend of Hero King Boris, who received assistance from Xike Wing Cavalry when he led his clan warriors into the Great Wilderness.

This meant that the weapon’s historical value was as profound as its practical value.

“A legendary item has reappeared after 400 years; this seems to be an ominous sign.”

After wiping the axe, Joel carefully placed it back in the weapon box, then picked up the First Generation Count Xike’s armor and slowly cleaned the dirt from the battle scars on it.

As he wiped, he thought:

“Could the messenger from the Thieves Guild have been telling the truth to the master of the house?

A chaotic era is approaching, and all those who sense the storm coming should prepare early.

It makes sense.

If they did not truly feel threatened, why would the usually unobtrusive Thieves Guild commission us to travel miles to retrieve this weapon?

It’s a troublesome matter.

Not to mention the revenge of the Mountain People afterward, just getting involved in the affairs of Transylvania itself could bring enough trouble to the family, and the local vampires are not all dead yet.”

Joel narrowed his eyes and thought:

“Those bastard sons of midnight are not easy foes; the master must have been out of his mind to want to join the Thieves Guild, daring to meddle in such affairs…

Is this the kind of matter we sewer rats should be meddling in?

But the local youngsters are still too green; their intentions to find a scapegoat and intercept us halfway were all too obvious.

Ha, luckily we moved first, otherwise we really would have had to compete with some peers for this deadly task.”

The cunning old fox was clear as a mirror in his heart.

He had already sensed the looming threat, yet as a Tomb Robber gang heavily funded by the Snegov family, they could not refuse an order from the Snegov Godfather.

Under the chaotic circumstances, those without a foundation had no power to choose their fate and could only drift with the current.

“Yet, the mission required us to take the weapons and armor, but why also the bones and even the ashes of the First Count’s beloved dogs?”

The old Tomb Robber still had an unresolved doubt.

He looked at the well-arranged skeleton and several bags of ashes in the neighboring box; the remains of the First Count were the true crux of this operation, even more so than Vam Beheader and the set of armor.

Old Joel could not comprehend the strange commands of the Thieves Guild; for tomb robbers only interested in wealth, taking such ill-omened items as corpses was unheard of.

“Boss, supper is ready.”

A burly voice came from outside the tent, and a heavily tattooed large man came in with a bowl of meat soup, respectfully offering it to Old Joel.

But his gaze lingered on Vam Beheader inside the weapon box.

The burly man evidently fantasized about wielding this legendary divine weapon and dominating the battlefield…

“Hey, stop dreaming.”

Old Joel noticed his subordinate’s longing and greed, and disdainfully said:

“More creatures have fallen under Vam Beheader’s blade than you have seen people in your lifetime.

This legendary item from the barbarians has been tainted with too much bloodlust.

It has even become a murderous weapon.

You could casually wield it to kill, but only those who do not fear death, who even embrace it as a form of glory, qualify to be its next master.

Do you know why the Xike family’s successive masters left this weapon in the ancestral tomb, not even taking it out when Westerburg was breached?

They knew well they couldn’t control such an instrument of slaughter!

Neither can you.”

“I think I can!

I’ve killed people before, more than one.”

His thick-necked subordinate retorted gruffly, earning only contempt from Old Joel.