The epic story of green monsters

Chapter 1245

When Vorosk agreed to tell Allen his real name, Allen knew that the plan to subdue the Rotthroat tribe was successful.

I knew I hadn't chosen the wrong target. Even in the treacherous, wicked, and treacherous abyss of intrigue and betrayal, there are still extraordinary beings who possess the noble character of selflessness and dedication.

What others saw as an 'outlier' was, in Allen's eyes, an equal. He believed that once the other left the Ice Abyss and went to his territory, and learned about his deeds, even without the requirements and constraints of divine faith and true names, he would inevitably choose to cooperate deeply with him and jointly manage the occupied elven kingdom.

"Actually, before we came to meet you, Lord Lex, our tribe's higher-ups had already held a vote and agreed that the entire tribe would convert to worship His Majesty the God of Food."

Since things had come to this point, Vorosk stopped beating around the bush and stated his position directly: "So now I can tell you very clearly that my 37-strong Festering Throat tribe will sincerely follow the great God of Food and listen to the teachings of the gods."

The other troll elders hesitated, then remained silent. They understood what they needed to know and rationally judged that this was the best opportunity for their tribe to escape their misery.

"Believe me, my dear lambs, you will be proud of the decision you made today."

Allen wore an expression of utter surprise, though his eyes held a hint of fanaticism: "Thank you, my lord, for foresaw everything!!"

"With the Lord’s favor upon you, all calamities and sufferings will be far from you."

Vorošek frowned slightly. He was still somewhat unaccustomed to dealing with these fanatical believers in God, but he had no choice but to place his hopes on such a guy.

"Then shouldn't we talk about the baptism ceremony?"

Hearing the other person steer the conversation back to the main topic, Allen slightly toned down his exaggerated expression and gave a serious reply.

"The baptism ceremony can be held at any time, but before that, we need to solve the problem of the holy water required for the ceremony. I wonder if your tribe has the necessary materials?"

"And you just said that your compatriots number over 37, so the amount of holy water that needs to be prepared is not small!"

Elder Gram's expression darkened, and he asked, "What materials are needed to make holy water?"

"actually……"

Persuading a powerful tribe to submit to the worship of the God of Food was only the first step. There were still many things to deal with afterward. The powerful figures stayed in the frigid wasteland for several more days before finally settling everything and returning home.

Arriving alone in this barren land, Allen subdued a powerful tribe with just his sword and words. If the natives of the Mansa Wilderness knew about this, it would probably be embellished into a legendary story.

However, Allen did not have much of an emotional reaction to this afterwards. While the addition of a tribe of more than 300,000 people to the North was certainly a great help, it was just a drop in the ocean compared to the powerful enemies the North was about to face.

Fortunately, the Abyss is vast enough that, apart from the dominant Abyss Demons and Devils, there are countless other races and tribes from countless other planes that have been coerced and enslaved. Although the number of strong individuals and tribes that meet Allen's requirements is extremely small, they are still too many to count on two hands.

Having made this good start, Allen felt even more confident about the upcoming journey and goals. Perhaps by the time Allen finished this Abyss journey, the overall strength of the North would more than double.

……

"Sigh, our lord is going to collect soul stones again!!"

"How could he be so greedy? The last reason for holding a banquet was the Baroness's birthday, and less than a year later he wants to hold another banquet to collect gifts. Does he not want the villages and tribes below to survive?"

"I've heard that our Baron's reason for celebrating this time is quite valid: after thousands of years of trials and tribulations, his strength has finally increased once again, reaching a level comparable to the Balrog King!!"

"No wonder our lazy lord has been going out so often these days; it turns out he's been honing his combat skills!!"

"So, does that mean our lord might have a chance to get promoted and leave this poor, remote place?"

"Who knows? We're not going to be that lucky..."

On the Eastern Ridge volcano, the castle where the frost giant lord Herag resides is brightly decorated. The demons, frost trolls, and other vassals below begin to clear the surrounding snow, arranging colorful ribbons and rare plants in preparation for the upcoming celebration.

The servants attending to Herag chatted idly as they worked, exchanging information they didn't know about each other.

Near the crater, at the grand gate of the castle, several female frost giants dressed in magnificent animal skins rarely came out. They arrogantly ordered their servants around, occasionally uttering dissatisfied curses.

In the castle's main hall, a prominent crystal armchair sits in the center, where the frost giant Hellagur, even in his shrunk form, stands 5 meters tall, exuding an imposing and domineering aura.

An undisguised smile had been gracing Herag's face for quite some time now. He had originally only joined the God of Food for the sake of freedom, but he hadn't expected such an unexpected reward. Before Herag had even made any significant contribution, the God of Food's messenger, Lord Lex, had already given him a reward: a master-level magical dish prepared by a magical culinary profession he had never heard of before—Ice Soul Frost.

Upon first seeing this magical creation called 'Ice Soul Frost', Horag felt a strong tremor in his heart. His intuition, originating from his soul, kept reminding him that this magical dish might be the opportunity he had been searching for to break through his shackles.

Greed nearly drove Herag to madness, but the indifferent gaze of the divine messenger Rex pulled the frost giant demigod back to reality. Just as he was about to offer his collection in exchange for this precious magical artifact, the divine messenger Rex casually tossed the dish to the frost giant.

Of course, this dish wasn't free; along with it, the frost giant Herag also had an important task.

With his true name known to the other party, and now possessing an important tool to enhance his strength, the Frost Giant agreed without hesitation, having both a big stick and candy at his disposal.

As soon as the divine messenger disappeared from his sight, the frost giant lord impatiently returned to his castle and began to do something he hadn't done for hundreds of years—go into seclusion.

The accumulated magic and experience over the years, combined with the master-level magic dish, transformed into an incomparably sharp blade, easily cleaving open the heavy and solid door blocking the frost giant's path to sainthood. The obstacle that had stood for thousands of years became a clear path in an instant.

A month later, the Frost Giant Lord emerged from seclusion, no longer a demigod-level fringe lord, but a true saint-level being.

Thus, the frost giant lord's extravagant celebrations came about today.

"My lord, Baron Cliff of Snowcry Ridge has arrived!!"

Just as he was feeling pleased, a berserker servant rushed in and reported to the lord.

"So early??"

Herag hadn't expected such an important guest to arrive so early in the morning, which was quite different from the many banquets he had hosted before. However, this also indirectly confirmed the impact of his improved strength on his colleagues and neighbors.

He composed himself, rose from the crystal throne, and strode energetically toward the castle's exit. Before he even left the castle, his hoarse voice had already drifted out.

"Cliff, it's been so long since you've visited my humble castle!!"

"Haha, it's just that there are too many things to do in the territory..."

Another, more resonant but equally powerful voice echoed Hellagur's greeting. Soon, the owner of the voice appeared opposite Hellagur, a high-ranking serpent demon with ten arms and a physique comparable to a shrunk frost giant.

Seeing his former frost giant colleague, who had lived a muddled life, suddenly appear before him with a completely different demeanor, and the spirited and high-spirited aura emanating from him, the serpent lord, who had a bright smile on his face, felt a deep, malicious jealousy rising from the bottom of his heart.

Although he didn't realize the other person's true intentions behind their smile, Hellagur could guess what they were thinking. The increasingly smug frost giant enjoyed the moment, and his smile grew even brighter.

After exchanging pleasantries, the two lords, led by their host Herag, entered the castle's banquet hall, chatting idly while awaiting the arrival of other guests or envoys. Soon, all the neighboring towns and manors under Herag's jurisdiction had arrived, creating a rare spectacle of important figures gathering at Eastridge Castle. This not only brought pride to Herag, the host, but also to his companions and superiors.

The more powerful the master they serve, the more respect they receive and the safer they are in.

"My lord, it's time for dinner. Only the lord of the farthest territory, Alaa, has not yet appeared."

As darkness fell, the castle was bustling with people. A succubus servant quietly approached Herag, flapped her fleshy wings, and flew to his ear to whisper a reminder.

"Hmph, that damn bastard definitely did it on purpose!!"

Reminded by the maid, Herag automatically conjured up the face of a frost giant in his mind and said through gritted teeth in a chilling tone, "I'll settle the score with him later. Tell the people to prepare the food and start the feast."

"Yes."

The succubus maid quietly left the hall, inevitably being ripped off by several powerful lords along the way, but she could only greet them with a smile.

"Sorry, sorry, the snow is exceptionally fierce today, which made me late!!"

Just as the servants led the guests to their seats, and the frost giant Herag, as the host, rose to raise his glass and was about to give a toast, a sudden voice came straight from the castle gate. Although it was an apology, there was no trace of remorse in the tone.

"Summerfield!!"

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Herag, as the master, almost gritted his teeth and turned to look at the doorway, his eyes flashing with a strong warning. At the same time, a faint aura of power emanated from him, transforming into an invisible sword that struck the figure of another frost giant standing before the door.

The fellow named Samorfield is one of only two frost giant lords on the eastern frontier, and perhaps because of this relationship, the two frost giant lords have always been at odds.

This time, Horag sent an invitation to Samofel, who had also been stuck at the threshold of demigod status for many years, in order to retaliate and mock him. However, he did not expect that his mortal enemy would still provoke him even after knowing that he had advanced to sainthood.

However, remembering that this was his own celebration and there was no need to ruin the important matters over trivial matters, Hrag suppressed his anger and said with a disdainful look, "I thought you wouldn't dare to come, so I had the servants remove your chair!"

"If you want to sit down at the table now, you'll have to wait a bit. I need to have someone bring you another chair and set the table."

"It's alright, I can wait this long. Take your time setting it up."

Somerfield chuckled indifferently, slowly strolling into the hall. He surveyed the seemingly lavish decorations of the banquet hall, clicking his tongue in a strange tone: "Haven't been to your castle in decades. I didn't expect it to still be so shabby. It seems you haven't been living a very comfortable life these past few years!"

Compared to the largely unproductive territory granted to Hrag, Samorfield's territory has yielded numerous minerals such as Abyssal Cold Iron and Crystal Titanium, as well as many more habitable areas like volcanoes and hot springs. As a result, Samorfield lives a much wealthier life than Hrag, and has consistently used this advantage to its advantage to annoy Hrag.

"A comfortable life breeds complacency, while the hardships I endured led to my achievements today, didn't they?"

Not to be outdone, Hrag retorted with a single sentence.

"hehe."

"Hahaha."

The two exchanged glances and burst into hearty laughter in unison, but their fake expressions were clearly visible to the dozen or so guests at the banquet table.

"Today, you have all come to my humble castle to celebrate my ascension to sainthood."

"I don't have much to offer in terms of hospitality. I just happened to capture a traveler from another dimension as a slave, and he happens to possess a newly emerging divine profession in the material world—magical cooking—which allows him to transform ordinary food into dishes imbued with magical effects."
"I've tried it myself a few times, and not only is the magic effect quite good, but most importantly, the dishes I cook actually whet my appetite! Everyone should try it!!"

"Someone, bring the food!"

After the minor incident, Herag returned to the spotlight and began his performance as the absolute protagonist of the day with great enthusiasm.

As soon as his thunderous voice fell, the demon servants who had been waiting for a long time began to move busily behind the table, carrying gleaming plates. In less than ten minutes, the once empty rectangular table was filled with exquisite porcelain and silver plates of all sizes.

"This first appetizer, according to that guy who called himself the Demon Chef, is called 'Black Rose.' It's made by cooking the spinal cord and brain of a legendary demon with water from a tributary of the River Styx that flows through our plane..."

"Everyone should try it; you might be pleasantly surprised!!"

After a proud introduction, Herag looked at the guests at the table and noticed that although they were interested in the magical black soup on the plate, they didn't touch it.

Knowing everyone's worries, Hellagur calmly picked up the identical food in front of him, tilted his head back, and poured the thick black soup into his mouth in one gulp. The intense, fiery magic immediately flowed from his throat to his limbs. Although it wasn't the first time Hellagur had eaten this delicacy, he still couldn't help but let out a satisfied burp.

Seeing this, the other guests felt too embarrassed to refuse any longer and picked up their food, drinking it down in one gulp like Hellagur, completely abandoning any pretense of politeness. When they discovered that the food they swallowed began to emanate a not-so-weak magical power that spread throughout their bodies, nourishing every cell and causing them to be slightly strengthened, each of the guests, at least of legendary high-ranking, revealed a slight look of surprise in their eyes.

"Wow, it really is good stuff..."

"I never imagined that the taste of this rich soup would be no less than that of a pure soul..."

Everyone here is a seasoned and powerful individual; the changes and effects of food on the body after it enters the mouth are impossible to hide from them. Once they confirmed that the food was not only harmless but also quite beneficial, they were generous with their praise, complimenting this magical cooking technique they had never heard of before.

Even Summerfield, who was at odds with Helag, was no exception.

"Haha, I told you everyone would like it!!"

Helag's face lit up with even more pride, as if he were showing off his prized possession.

"The next main course is even more outstanding in both effect and taste; it is made by..."

As Helag introduced each delicious dish, they were devoured by the guests at both sides of the table, and the hall was filled with laughter and cheerful conversation, creating a very peaceful atmosphere.

Until the last dish was served and quickly devoured by the guests who had tasted its sweetness, the frost giant lord Herag, as the host, stood up, raised his crystal glass filled with bright red wine with a radiant smile, and began to speak loudly and unrestrainedly.

"I am truly delighted that you all could attend the dinner I am hosting today. Please forgive me if there is any inadequacy in our hospitality."

"But since everyone has been so kind as to ask for my help, I'll take the liberty of asking you all for another favor."

The other guests raised their glasses. Although they didn't know what the frost giant wanted from them, they were willing to give him face since they had enjoyed such a delicious meal on his turf, as long as it didn't affect their own interests.

"We've been neighbors for so many years, so just let me know if you need any help..."

"Exactly, even if I don't care about you, I'll help out just for the sake of this magical dish today..."

The positive feedback from the guests seemed to please Hrag. He downed the red wine in his glass in one gulp, then smashed the glass with a loud crash, laughing as he said, "I want to borrow your bodies as fuel to escape this frigid ice plain and regain my freedom. Please don't be stingy!!"

Swish! ! !
Before Herag could finish speaking, a bolt of silver lightning shot towards the two guests closest to the frost giant.