Final Lord

Chapter 293 The King's Unresponsive Potion
"Quick! Before those minotaurs return, let's break through the guards and rush out!" Shakert raised a burning torch high, and the slaves surged towards the maze's exit like a tidal wave, their footsteps echoing excitedly through the narrow tunnels!
However, when they reached the maze exit, the expected minotaur guards were nowhere to be seen.

"What's going on?" a dwarf asked in a low voice, looking around warily.

Shaker was also very shocked, but he didn't have time to think about it.

Because he had already seen Blind Cat leading his elite cavemen, waving at them from not far away.

That is the hand of freedom.

It turned out that just before the minotaurs set off on their campaign, Wang Bufu, under the pretext of "celebrating the successful transaction," invited the minotaur guarding the gate, Wolfgang, and his men to drink heavily. Those minotaurs were already notorious drinkers, and with Wang Bufu's generosity, the liquor he provided was a rare find in the underworld. After several rounds of heavy drinking, the guards were completely drunk, sprawled haphazardly beside the barrels, snoring loudly.

"Go! Now!" With a wave of his hand, Shakert sent the slaves surging out of the Minotaur labyrinth like a flood bursting its banks.

The long-awaited air of freedom filled their lungs, and none of them dared to stop, knowing that if they delayed even for a second, they might face the pursuit of the remaining minotaurs.

……

The dim, fluorescent moss swayed on the walls of the Minotaur labyrinth, reflecting Keynes's face, twisted with rage.

His heavy breathing exhaled a sulfurous white mist, and the ruby ​​on his gold nose ring had long since shattered, leaving only a few faint streaks of blood clinging to the metal ring.

"They escaped? They all escaped?!" His roar shook the cave ceiling, causing rocks to fall in a flurry. His battle axe slammed into a nearby stone pillar, sparks flying and drawing a blinding arc in the darkness.

The surviving minotaur warriors cowered and retreated, their armor tattered, their bodies still bearing the stench of the poisonous swamp and the scorch marks of copper arrows. A warrior with a broken horn reported tremblingly, "Chieftain... the brothers who stayed behind said they were all drunk and don't know when the slaves escaped."

Keynes' pupils suddenly contracted, and the veins on his thick neck bulged. He turned abruptly, his three-meter-tall frame resembling a volcano about to erupt, each step causing the ground to tremble slightly.

He rushed into the guardhouse deep within the labyrinth, only to be met with barrels of wine lying haphazardly on the floor and minotaur guards snoring loudly.

His father, Wolfgang, lay back on the stone chair, a drop of wine still clinging to his nose ring, a satisfied smile on his lips, as if still lost in a sweet dream.

“Father!” Keynes’s voice was almost squeezed out through clenched teeth, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked.

Wolfgang was startled awake. He blinked his large, bulging eyes, still blurry with drunkenness, and mumbled incoherently, "Oh... Keynes...did they win? How many Medusa captured?"

"We lost!" Keynes roared, kicking over a nearby wine barrel, spilling the murky liquid everywhere. "We lost seventy percent of our warriors! Now even the slaves have run away! And you—" He pointed at the drunken guards scattered on the ground, his voice trembling with suppressed rage, "you're drinking?!"

"What!" Wolfgang's eyes widened, and he struggled to sit up straight, instantly sobering up considerably. He asked in shock, "You lost? How is that possible!"

Keynes' chest heaved violently, the handle of his battle axe nearly cracking from his grip. He wanted nothing more than to smash the barrel before him, to shatter this absurd situation—but that was his father, the former chieftain, the most respected elder in the labyrinth. In the end, he could only manage a low growl from the depths of his throat, turn and stride away, each step feeling like walking on burning coals.

In the shadows of the corridor, Keynes slammed his fist against the rock wall, sending shards of stone flying. His rage, with nowhere to vent, could only erupt into a defiant roar: "Medusa... and those damned slaves... you'll pay!"

Just then, the heavy stone doors of the hall were suddenly pushed open, and Wang Bufu staggered out. His luxurious cloak was still stained with undried wine, and his hair was slightly disheveled, clearly indicating that he had just woken up from his drunken stupor. His steps were unsteady, but he still quickly caught up with the enraged Keynes and grabbed the Tauren chieftain's arm, whose veins were bulging.

“Chieftain of Cairns!” Wang Bufu’s voice was slightly hoarse from the alcohol, but carried an undeniable seriousness. “I just heard about the battle from your wounded soldiers.” His brow furrowed, and sincere concern shone in his amber eyes. “Many soldiers have been poisoned. Although their condition isn’t too serious, they won’t survive more than three days without timely treatment.”

"So what? Are you here to laugh at me?" Keynes stared intently at Wang Bufu with his bloodshot eyes, his heavy breath hot and sulfurous on Wang Bufu's face.

"of course not!"

Wang Bufu remained unmoved, pulling out a medicine box inlaid with jade from his robes. "I have an antidote here," he said, his slender fingers gently tracing the intricate patterns on the box, "made from snow lotus and moonlight moss from the North, capable of neutralizing any toxin."

Take this and let the brothers try it. If it works, I'll have someone prepare it immediately.

Keynes's gold nose ring trembled slightly with his heavy breathing. He stretched out his calloused, massive hand, but hesitated and stopped in mid-air.

Seeing this, Wang Bufu shoved the medicine box into his hand, a tired but sincere smile curving his lips: "Don't worry, it's free. Consider it a small compensation for my guard friend who messed things up while drunk."

I'm so sorry. If I hadn't dragged them into drinking, those slaves probably wouldn't have run away.

Chief Cairns, if you require compensation, I will do everything in my power to provide it.

At that moment, Keynes's bloodshot bull-like eyes trembled slightly, and the surging anger, like magma extinguished by ice water, solidified into complex dark lines in his eyes. His rough fingertips unconsciously caressed the cool jade patterns on the medicine box; the meticulously carved grooves perfectly conformed to the calluses on his fingertips, as if this life-saving treasure had been forged specifically for him. The heavy weight of the medicine box pressed into his palm, reminding him of the sensation of a battle axe cleaving through Medusa's scales—only this time, he grasped not destruction, but the last straw to save his people.

The usually haughty minotaur chieftain now bore the scorch marks of copper arrows on his horns. He slowly lowered his head, letting his golden nose ring, adorned with a skull pendant, fall to Wang Bufu's eye level for the first time. When he spoke, his rough voice, hoarse from the burns of the swamp's poisonous mist, rang out: "Thank you." His Adam's apple bobbed, and his sulfurous breath brushed against the surface of the medicine box, condensing into tiny droplets. "You're a good merchant. Those slaves..."

His voice suddenly caught in his throat, and veins bulged on his muscular arms. After a moment of silence, Keynes suddenly smirked, revealing a ferocious yet frank smile: "Their escape is none of your business. These past years in the labyrinth, I've watched them grind their shackles with rusty iron plates, dig their nails through the rock walls. You only gave them a chance." His gold nose ring jingled as he shook his head. "Even without you, given the chance, they would have still run."

Wang Bufu's fingertips gently touched Keynes's scarred forearm, tracing the gaps in the scales pierced by the copper arrows. Neither of them spoke again, but in the light cast by the moonstone lamp, the Tauren chieftain's heavy breathing gradually subsided, and the cold light reflected from the jade medicine box shone faintly in his pupils.

(End of this chapter)