My Players Are So Fierce

Chapter 2820 -940: I Decide to Call It “The Year of Turmoil” and “The Advent of the Saint”_3

“I don’t know if Sir Murphy wants to become king, but he is already the undisputed leader of this land. If he wants to be king, then all the Transia people would be willing to help him ascend the throne.

Yes, just like Lupa and King Louis!

He will certainly be a more formidable king than they are.”

—————–

“Look, even if you don’t have much desire for power yourself, your loyal soldiers are already planning to help you become king, my dear Murphy.”

In a dark alley on Fink Street, Triss, who was studying the strange phenomenon of space folding, jokingly said to Murphy:

“Guess what, if one day Maxim brings you a yellow outfit… Oh, with our customs here, it should be an extravagant purple robe and a crown.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. In this rundown land of Transia, whoever wants to be king can be king; I’m certainly not interested.”

Murphy, who was guarding Triss with his sword, scoffed:

“Besides, even if the anecdote of putting on the yellow robe were to really happen, shouldn’t it be Kudell crowning Milian? She’s been handling everything here all along. And that girl… She’s called Mia. I heard Kudell talk about her story.

She and her hunting team surrounded and killed a chosen hunter, her ferocious battle spirit prompting Kudell to break his taboos for her.

She’s a fierce warrior, and she will surely become the pillar of Transia.”

“Soldiers like Mia are already everywhere in the People’s Army; they die in fierce battles and become the backbone of the Blood Vultures blessed at midnight. After this battle, the Cadman People’s Army will become a renowned force on the Continent, and our Blood Vulture Clan will dominate the future of the night.”

Triss said with emotion:

“The Black Disaster has truly changed many things, and it’s foreseeable that it will continue to alter more traditions. It’s only May of Epoch 1112, and so much has happened; I really wonder how history will evaluate this year.”

“Hmm, I guess they might give this year a distinguished title, something like ‘Year of Turmoil’ or some strange nickname.”

Murphy scoffed:

“Look, Old Su Head fell from subspace into the material world, lost his divinity, and has to use faith to ignite the Divine Fire—isn’t that the standard ‘coming of the saint’? I tell you, the commentators on the Continent have finally captured real material to embellish their so-called Age of Chaos.

The events stirred up by Old Su Head and The Master of Hunting are just the beginning; there will certainly be more situations to unfold.

But luckily.

We are no longer as fragile as before; we already have the qualifications to sit at the table.”

The vampire raised his head, looking up from the dark and cramped alley, as if in a strange tube building staring at the dim sky, he said:

“Another hundred thousand men have fallen into our hands, plus Hog can finally develop the forces of the creator’s faction without interference. Triss, we’ve finally endured to the stage where we can ‘mass-produce troops.’ Next, all we need to do is take down Kavkhoka, and the manpower problem will be permanently resolved.”

“But your foreign warriors still need time to grow.”

Triss gathered enough information about space samples and put the pieces of spiritual energy granted by space back into her personal belongings, turned back to Murphy and said:

“You have to ensure that those ‘new recruits’ who come here in large numbers have enough time to grow, and large-scale wars like the Black Disaster are likely impossible to repeat in the short term.”

“I think you are jinxing us, Triss.”

Murphy pursed his lips, put his hands on his waist, stretched his shoulders, and followed Triss out of the dark alley, saying:

“Heaven knows what surprises Twilight and other forces have prepared for us, but as the Black Disaster has already been dealt with, all future challenges are not to be feared. Moreover, if it’s just a training ground, isn’t the Ligurian Peninsula the best low-intensity conflict zone?

The Half-body Men have always been calling for our help, perhaps it’s time to respond.

Of course, all of this has to wait until we thoroughly deal with the troubles at hand—Huggesen, and its last group of Wolf Man Rioters.

I must personally resolve this trouble.”

“Huggesen has made a sacrifice.”

Triss said in a low voice:

“Now judging from its series of actions, I can be sure that the Wolf Man has already made his final preparations. It’s very likely that when he chose to become the hunting god’s chosen, he was already aware, using his body to trap the escaping Master of Hunting.

But time cannot be dragged out too long.

The Master of Hunting will erode him, even if it’s just an escaping divine soul; for mortals, it’s an unbearable weight.”

“Understood.”

Murphy nodded and said:

“I will personally see it through to the end; it won’t be long, won’t… Look! Our great hero Sir Norman is over there taking a beating.”

Murphy pulled Triss to hide at the nearby alley entrance, where the two distinguished figures peeked out. In a house not far away, an embarrassed Norman was talking to three people in front of him.

Old Porter laughed heartily and patted his shoulder, Ambo seemed to be crying, and Lady Natalie, with bloodstained armor, maintained the posture of a superior listening to his report.

It’s really nice.

The ones who shouldn’t die are still alive, and those who should have are on their way; the good days of Transia are still ahead.”