Necromancer, summoning 055? What the heck?

Chapter 99 The Combined Invasion of Goblins and Ogres
Even though the pale sun overhead looks cold and indifferent in the winter desert, the heat waves from the ground still distort the air, making it frighteningly hot.

The sand groaned softly against the soles of the boots, as if it might melt into glass at any moment.

Wood, on the other hand, was used to it.

Wood is an Iron Emblem Warrior from the southernmost, humid and scorching region of the Stream Moon Federation. The temperature in his hometown is no worse than here; the only difference is that the desert here is drier.

Wood had heard the lord tell those around him that this was called... a temperate desert climate.

As a scout, Mu Tou spent most of his time riding on the back of a giant sand beetle, patrolling along the long sand dune line, occasionally raising his binoculars to look into the distance.

The sand beetle is enormous, covered with a thick, rough, pale yellowish-brown chitinous shell that gleams with a metallic sheen under the blazing sun.

Its six segments are thick and powerful, with shovel-shaped claws at the ends, which can easily dig through quicksand and make a dull "sanding" sound when it walks.

The rider doesn't sit on its smooth, arched back; that place is dangerous. Not just a bump can throw a person off balance, but when two sand beetles sometimes meet head-on, whether it's due to same-sex repulsion or opposite-sex attraction, they will involuntarily arch their backs.

Sitting on it is just asking for trouble.

The wooden seat is located at the junction of the thorax and abdomen of the sand beetle, where a saddle woven from vines is fixed along the edge of the gap between the shells. The rider is in front, and the sentry is behind, securing themselves to the saddle with leather straps.

Patrol days were exceptionally tedious. Apart from the sand tribe driver in the front row, who was wrapped up tightly, Mu Tou often didn't see anyone for a whole day or even several days.

As a prisoner of war captured from Ironback City, he was picked out by the old clerk of Cloud Mist Territory and sold to the current Lord of the Vast Sea. Wood didn't care who he followed; it didn't matter who he followed, as long as he had food to eat.

After all, there are far too many people who don't have enough to eat these days.

For example, that sandman in front of me usually wraps himself up tightly with a headscarf, only revealing two gray eyes, looking incredibly aloof. But whenever the patrol team gives out meals, this guy's mouth can stretch all the way to his ears.

The patrol team had plenty of food, but waste was not allowed. For the sand people, this kind of life was like paradise.

Currently, the able-bodied young people among the sand people are all working for the lord, not only ensuring their own well-being but also helping the elderly and children in the sand dunes.

After climbing up a high slope of a sand dune, Wood spotted another sand beetle patrolling from the opposite side.

That kid's name is Junzi. He and Mutou were prisoners in the same batch. The two of them were brothers in misfortune, and both of them had their names changed by Steward Helan.

Mercenaries who come from the bottom rungs of society can't have any good names; they're just named whatever their parents see.

The original name of the fungus was mushroom. Butler Helan said that "mushroom" and "silent" sound similar, and we should avoid using the name of the lord. This is called respecting the dignity of the person in question. Therefore, the name "mushroom" cannot be used. From now on, we will call it fungus.

As for Wood itself, its original name was Stone.

Steward Helan said that since the lord is at odds with Zircon Territory, it would be best not to use the word "stone" as well, as this is to avoid using it for those who are incompatible.

So they changed it to wood.

Later, when the lord found out, he berated the steward of Helan so badly that he couldn't even lift his head. Then he publicly announced that everyone could use whatever names they wanted, and it would have no impact on them.

Yes, the lord is a good man.

Butler Helan wasn't a bad person. He clearly came from a high-ranking family, and his every move exuded the air of a great man. So, Wood didn't change his name back, just in case the lord got upset one day.

Lost in thought, he waved to the mushrooms on the distant sand dunes, and the sand beetle turned around under the rider's control.

After walking a few hundred meters, suddenly, the young sandman sitting in front perked up his ears, grabbed the beetle, rolled off its back, quickly dug a shallow hole in the ground with his hands, and stuck his head in.

In just a few breaths, the sandman pulled his head out, wiped the sand off his face and head, and shouted in a hoarse voice, "There are people to the north, lots of them!"

This is a talent passed down through generations of sand people: the ability to track the movements of sand beetles in the vast sea of ​​sand by sensing the slightest tremors of the earth. When used as sentinels, it serves as a powerful early warning tool.

A dozen minutes later, the two left the large beetle in a sheltered sand dune and, using both hands and feet, like two lizards, silently crawled up the highest sand dune with the widest view, cautiously peeking out half their heads.

A long black line stretched across the vast expanse of yellow sand in the distance.

Wood lowered his voice: "Can you tell how many people there are?"

The young sandman pointed one thumb at the setting sun and the other finger at the front of the line, slowly moving towards the back. He muttered to himself for a while, then rolled over and lay down on the sand: "Two hundred here, three hundred, more, there's more at the back!"

The two relaxed their limbs and slid down from the top of the dune.

Wood rushed to the beetle, deftly unfastening the strap of the leather pouch beside the saddle, pulling out a folded metal rod—unfolded, extended! The tip snapped open with a "click," forming a fishbone-shaped receiver. He forcefully inserted it into the sand, precisely aiming the tip towards the direction of the Vast Ocean Territory, took a deep breath, and pressed the conspicuous red button!
The alarm, accompanied by a radio signal, was transmitted back to the distant Han Hai Territory.

Lord Chen Mo, who was inspecting the basic preparations for the seawater purification plant during a break from his cultivation, soon received news that an unidentified team was heading towards the Han Hai Territory.

Actually, there's no need to claim "unidentified." The scouts at the front had taken a close look through their binoculars and determined it was a standard group of ogre-goblin mix, the most common bandit group in the northern wastelands.

When Chen Mo returned to the temporary camp, the scouts at the front had already sent back more accurate intelligence.

"This team was definitely not formed temporarily; it must be a combination of several old bandit groups!"

As the leaders of the territory reported, they secretly glanced at the lord's expression.

It's terrible... Is it anger? Or fear?

“We have discovered at least six two-headed ogres. With that kind of strength, they could attack a small orc tribe in the north. The fact that they would travel such a long distance to find us means they must have a big benefactor who has given them a lot of benefits!”

"A two-headed ogre? Is it that powerful?"

The guard leader, Old Silver Armor Lynn, had finally found a familiar territory, so he quickly stepped forward and explained it to the lord using both hands and feet.

"Ogres are naturally gifted psionic beings, and used to be classified as magical beasts!"

"When this thing is single-headed, it's just strong and thick-skinned, able to hit an ordinary iron badge without armor. After it becomes double-headed, it gains the ability to cast spells."

"Being able to use several support spells on himself, as well as attack with magic, his strength has increased dramatically, almost equivalent to a silver-armored warrior paired with a moon wheel mage."

"Moreover, the older they are, the stronger their magical abilities become, making them among the most difficult to deal with in magical beasts."

Unlike humans and other races that require arduous training, naturally born spiritual beings are creatures that can absorb spiritual energy from heaven and earth without needing to cultivate. Most magical beasts fall into this category; once they reach a certain age, their level and skills automatically come into play.

The two-headed ogre is undoubtedly one of the best.

However, since the rise of the human race, no high-level magical beasts can stop the human race's slaughter.

The cannibals have gone from having hundreds of colonies at their peak to their current "red endangered" status, of course, no one here treats them as protected species.

"So, do cannibals really eat people?"

Captain Lynn nodded, giving an affirmative reply.

Having followed the lord for some time, Butler Helan had a good grasp of his style and temperament, so he added at the opportune moment: "A long time ago, ogres didn't eat people. Later, after being slaughtered by humans, they started eating people..."

I understand. They'll receive the same treatment as the indigenous people of the land where the bald eagle lives.

Chen Mo then returned to the rear courtyard of the camp, an area guarded by skeletons and oxen, off-limits to strangers, and belonging to the lord's private courtyard.

With a slight ripple, the leaders of the territory knew that their lord had gone to seek outside help again.

Everyone in the Han Hai Territory was on edge, as if facing a formidable enemy. Meanwhile, the team trudging through the desert was also suffering greatly. The desert was not easy to traverse, and even though the team had found experienced veterans as guides and brought sufficient supplies, the large group still encountered constant problems along the way.

This caused considerable distress to Larila, the silver-armored warrior who organized the team.

Chen Mo guessed correctly; at this stage, the only one willing to go to such great lengths to deal with him was Marquis Monroe of Zircon Territory.

Chen Mo's status as a lord came from the merits he was awarded by the Emerald Duchy of Cloud Mist!
His greatest achievement was that he and Princess Liushuang, the two little children, broke through the entire defenses of the Green Pine Kingdom and crossed the river in full view of everyone, even shooting down the Green Pine King's flag with a single shot.

With so many people present, and the camp having magical detection eyes watching, this person has made a huge blunder.

Even though the Kingdom of Green Pine was the victor in this war, completely annexing the Southern Pass of the Principality of Emerald, the topic of conversation among the nobles of various countries was still the Three Towers Flag that had fallen into the rolling river.

In this situation, as a direct descendant of a marquis family and a professional black glove, Captain Larila, with a death wish, came to the northern orc plains and began recruiting men to prepare for a massacre of the Vast Sea Territory.

As for why only Silver Armorers could be dispatched at the highest level? This is different from previous private vendettas. It is a heinous crime that violates the universally recognized protection regulations for pioneering lords. First-tier professionals are all on the close monitoring lists of various countries, and their actions are too conspicuous.

Those who haven't changed jobs are perfectly suited to do the dirty work.

Larila's recruitment progressed exceptionally smoothly. In just half a month, he pulled out a huge bandit group from the ravines and caves of the northern wilderness.

There are over six hundred goblin warriors. These ugly creatures can also cultivate, and those who succeed in their cultivation are revered as earth spirits by the goblins.

Of the six hundred goblins, seventy-five were high goblins, equivalent to more than seventy rank-up warriors.

That wasn't all. Through the Marquis's underground channels, he also brought in a horde of ogres: six adult two-headed ogres and three juvenile one-headed ogres.

Half a squad is skilled in both magic and martial arts!
Lalila herself led the team, with three other human warriors as support. Such a team was enough to make the small orc tribes in the northern wasteland tremble with fear!

The dwarf allies not only provided Larila with resources for communication and a large amount of money, but also generously supplied abundant marching supplies.

How did the Seven Luminaries Garland know about the bandit gang's planned attack on the Vast Ocean Territory? The answer is simple: they were the ones supplying the bandit gang with their own resources.

Of course, greedy dwarfs don't do charity. In order to gain the dwarfs' support in the north, the Marquis opened up casinos and loan sharking businesses in two of his territories to them.

Only those involved know the true extent of the cost.

Harboring ambitions to conquer the vast desert, and leading this seemingly strong and well-supplied force, Larila was full of confidence, dreaming of an overwhelming victory.

However, the nightmare began the moment they stepped into this sea of ​​death.

At this time, the temperature difference between day and night is seventy or eighty degrees Celsius. Raw meat is roasted during the day and frozen at night, which makes the goblins, stupid, dirty, lazy creatures with a mind full of reproductive desires, constantly chatter and protest.

"Giggle, my children's feet are getting so tender!"

"Humans, the little bit of glitter you've paid isn't enough for the great goblin warrior to turn himself into a dried-up corpse. There won't even be any edible meat left! Oh, not a single bit!"

That's right, goblins really eat everything. They eat not only grains, but also animals, human flesh, and even the flesh of their own kind of goblins.

When they are starving, they will even eat rotten flesh. Their bodies are on the same wavelength as those filthy things, so they are exceptionally resilient. As a result, the goblins can never be eradicated or killed off.

At night, he started yelling loudly again: "It's cold, so cold! I can't even get an erection on a night like this!"

"We need to go back, and we need to bring enough furs to start again!"

"Humans, you must apologize to the great goblins! You have deceived the goblins, and the Longtail God will punish you with the most terrible constipation!"

Larila's head throbbed from the noise, and her temples throbbed.

Finally, after paying an extra "heat and cold allowance," the goblins reluctantly agreed to march during the relatively "mild" times of day, such as the morning and evening.

What was originally planned as an eight-day journey was suddenly stretched to more than twenty days.

We had just settled things here when the cannibals started causing trouble again.

Entering the desert environment, it was impossible to carry a large number of livestock, and the ogres were meat lovers, so Larila had to hire the sand people and use their giant sand beetles as pack animals to carry a large amount of dried meat as food for the ogres.

Then, after eating jerky for a while, the female ogre in the group was weaned.

The little ogre cried loudly, its voice like a broken gong, piercing through the entire camp.

Although weaning may be due to external climate, changes in environment, or even endocrine disorders caused by long journeys, the cannibal doesn't care about any of these; his little one needs to be nursed!

You, human leader, must get me some fresh meat right now!
Otherwise... eating you wouldn't be a bad idea!
Ogres don't like eating people. In their words, human flesh is inferior to most beast meat, similar to that of scavenging hyenas, and tastes terrible.

But if you're unhappy, it's still okay to eat some.

Larila was so angry her eyes turned green.

Your baby needs to nurse? Your baby is taller than me! Still breastfeeding?
Besides, what does it have to do with me if you don't produce milk? I didn't mention that when I hired you.

However, reasoning with cannibals is unrealistic. Their left head is responsible for thinking about "who to eat," while their right head is already figuring out "how to eat."

That evening, while everyone was camping, the ogre leader on the left swiftly cleaved a large sand beetle in two, while the leader on the right unleashed a raging fire that roasted the beetle until its shell was charred and its flesh tender.

After the barbecue was finished, the cannibals swarmed around and feasted, enjoying their most pleasant midnight snack since entering the desert, while their eyes also set on the remaining beetles and camels.

This infuriated the Sandman guide.

These sandworms were passed down from my grandfather's generation. My grandfather passed them down to my father, and my father passed them down to me. They are just like the sandworms in my family.

This is practically my "grandfather," how could you roast my "grandfather" like that?

That's the downside of doing dirty work; everyone is there for personal gain, and there's no sense of collectivism or awareness.

Larila nearly ground her teeth to powder, and had to pull out another large sum of gold coins and make more empty promises to barely suppress the impending infighting.

The group trudged forward step by step amidst suspicion, complaints, and hatred.

As the days passed, on the tenth day, with the journey halfway complete, the team finally stepped into the outpost area of ​​the Vast Ocean Territory.

The outpost at the front of the Han Hai Territory stands in the middle of the sand dunes. Several thorny tree trunks are driven deep into the ground, with a few horizontal branches supporting them, and a flag is planted on top. This is a simple observation post.

The tower was now deserted, with only the jade vine longsword banner fluttering in the wind.

A Zircon Territory warrior who had followed Larila let out a sinister laugh and cleaved the watchtower in two with a heavy blow.

"Give this scum of the Han Hai a greeting gift! Bah!"

"Boom——!"

The falling wooden pole pulled the pin of a defensive grenade, drilling hundreds of holes of varying sizes into the human warrior.

This marked the first casualty of the Larrya gang.

Of course, this is just the beginning.

(End of this chapter)