My Players Are So Fierce

That night, Grand Marshal Huggesen, who rushed back all the way, finally returned to Moss Valley on the voodoo bipedal dragon of the Split Claw Clan before the divine selection ritual of The Master of Hunting began.

Just as it rode its black-red Throne Wolf named “Death Claw” away from the landing point, it was greeted by Lord Manson, expressionless, waiting ahead at the fork in the road, accompanied by two teams of hunting elects from the Blood Scar Clan.

These specially identified Wolf People were all silver rank, wearing armor adorned with the leather and bones of Thunder Lizards, wielding weapons flickering with corruptive power, each larger than regular elite Barbarian Soldiers by two sizes.

“A Big Guy” would absolutely suffice to describe them.

Moreover, these beings exuded a considerably dangerous aura, even though Huggesen knew it could easily defeat them, yet the sense of danger was not diminished by the disparity in strength, proving these beings surely possessed means to bypass rank differences for real damage.

The name “hunting elects” on its own confirmed that these beings were The Master of Hunting’s warriors in the world, fundamentally different from ordinary Wolf People.

“Before such an important ritual, you’ve gone missing for over half a day without cause?”

Lord Manson, leading Huggesen into Moss Valley, now under martial control by the Blood Scar Clan, was very displeased, leaning on the Bone Staff, scolding:

“This irresponsible behavior surely wasn’t taught by Chief Botana?”

Huggesen did not argue back but instead took something out from the hunting bag behind it and handed it to Manson.

Manson raised eyebrows in surprise.

It was a pair of elf-styled combat claws, radiating a bizarre purple-black glow.

They were crafted into an intricate beast gauntlet style, carefully examining revealed the resemblance to the Abyssal Destiny Spider revered by elves, the two claws formed by its six spider legs as blades, and strands of abyss-like arc light wound around the sharp slender blades, bestowing the item with intimidation.

“Corrosive Wound?

The sacred artifact of the Split Claw Clan, you spent this half day obtaining it?”

Manson’s displeasure dissipated immediately.

It nodded and said:

“Well done!

Bringing this sacred artifact to the divine selection ritual will allow it to receive The Master of Hunting’s blessing, deepening your connection with it.

Truly a born warrior inheriting the Blood Descendant of the King of Bone Biting!

But you should have at least informed us before leaving.”

Huggesen shrugged.

It didn’t keep the combat claws in its hands, instead stuffing them into Manson’s, which made the Golden Priest raise an eyebrow in astonishment, then saw the grand marshal conveying a message using simple hand gestures.

“You intend to use it as collateral to lease a fiercer army from the Blood Scar Clan?”

Manson frowned and said:

“Unnecessary!

I’ve already recalled the entire Blood Scar army from the Brass Fortress Battlefield, a hundred thousand strong, enough for your mobilization.”

“Aw”

Huggesen let out a brief roar, stubbornly shook its head, gestured a circle around Moss Valley, signaling its desire for the hunting elects here, then made a fighting gesture, finally taking out a fragment of the Transia Flag from its bosom.

The meaning was clear.

Huggesen believed only God-given warriors like hunting elects could counter the war spirits of the Transia People.

This request made Manson Priest somewhat hesitant.

Hunting elects, being a unique unit of the Blood Scar Clan, were limited in number, currently securing Moss Valley to ensure the unhindered descent of The Master of Hunting, so by rights, these divine warriors could never leave the Hyena Man Sacred Land.

But it indeed witnessed the absurdity of Transia’s war spirits firsthand.

The brutality and belligerence of those undead warriors were shocking even to it.

Huggesen’s prudence was not unfounded, furthermore, the main reason for this grand marshal joining as divine selection was for revenge against the Transia People’s Governor.

It was even willing to exchange the sacred artifact of the Split Claw Clan for a batch of elects, showing the intensity of its vengeful heart.

Manson did not answer immediately, glancing at the Corrosive Wound in its hand, the genuine divine artifact stirred its mind slightly, after a moment it spoke softly:

“I need to apply to the Chieftain…

But don’t worry, this sincerity will surely sway Chief Amot, if your performance in tonight’s divine selection ritual is outstanding, I believe this will greatly enhance your request.

Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Huggesen nodded, reaching for its sword from the Throne Wolf Death Claw’s weapon bag and strapped it behind, Manson waved its hand, saying:

“Bring your Throne Wolf along, I’ve heard Death Claw was the mount and companion Chief Botana painstakingly acquired for you, this Throne Wolf’s bloodline also reportedly descends from Lord Felix’s hunting partner Benni.

Perhaps destiny has ordained it.

Your companion too has the eligibility to receive the power granted by The Master of Hunting.”

Huggesen’s eyes flashed with light.

It was unwilling to do this, Lord Felix had already instructed it on what to do next, reluctant for its Throne Wolf to also undergo this risk.

But Death Claw was loyal, it licked Huggesen’s fingers, then steadfastly followed alongside its master.

Huggesen finally nodded.