Do you have a problem with necromancers?

Chapter 117 Wild Dog
Martha Malone remains immersed in pain.

Her father's death was a huge blow to her. Sometimes she would wake up in the morning and subconsciously think it was all a dream, until she sat on the bed for a long, long time before she finally came to her senses.

The master of Highrock, the Grand Duke who ruled the Reach, lay quietly in a stone coffin in the lower hall of Eagle's Keep, his body covered with embalming garlic and camphor leaves. Every day at noon, the Death Priestess Nisk would purify and pray for him, asking the gods to allow his soul to return to heaven, while Martha stood silently beside him, watching her father's pale face.

After the prayers, the nobles would surround Marshan, as if they were treating the previous Grand Duke of Malorne, offering greetings and comfort, expressing their loyalty, and asking for instructions on various matters.

Martha knew nothing about politics or military affairs, and couldn't even understand the questions the nobles asked her.

But she quickly came up with a solution: she consulted Ryan Fahre.

Marquis Fahel… Back then, he wasn't yet Marquis Fahel; he was just an ordinary young man of noble birth. Every time Martha corresponded with him, she was deeply impressed by his wisdom—this man could always pinpoint the essence of any phenomenon, making Martha, who could only see the surface, suddenly realize the truth.

“I am not qualified to make decisions for you, and can only offer you my shallow understanding which lacks depth,” Ryan explained humbly. “According to the traditional practice of the Reach nobles, vassals are required to provide their own armor and weapons when responding to their lord’s military call. But in reality, if the lord is going to wage a long war, it will certainly be a burden on the vassals, since war is ultimately very expensive.”

“You can choose to have the Malorne family subsidize it, which will please all the nobles, but the cost will be that the family’s financial books won’t look good. I don’t know the Malorne family’s financial situation, but even if your family can afford it, it will make them think you are a weak and incompetent new duke with no prestige to control your vassals.”

“I never cared about this dukedom,” Martha complained. “If Kyle were here, I would have given him the dukedom without hesitation, and I wouldn’t have to worry about how to avenge my father.”

“Well, I have no right to interfere in your family affairs,” Raine said with a smile. “But considering your widespread popularity and affection among the nobles of the Fertile Lands, your brother will most likely first order the Tanfor family to dissolve your marriage, thereby severing your ties with the Fertile Lands.”

Martha frowned in displeasure and retorted:

“Kyle wouldn’t, he…”

“He’s a typical imperial nobleman,” Raine reminded her. “Being groomed by your father as his heir will clear all obstacles on the path to power. Have you forgotten the suffering and oppression the Amazons have endured?”

Martha fell silent. Emotionally, she was unwilling to accept that her own brother was about to break with her after their father's death, but she couldn't find any way to refute Ryan's point.

“Let’s not talk about that for now.” Renn wisely stopped talking and returned to the main topic. “You can choose to have the Malorne family subsidize your vassals, but the price is that the family will definitely have a lot of opinions about you; of course, you can also refuse to subsidize them, then some nobles may use the excuse that ‘the territory’s finances cannot support it’ to suggest that they withdraw from this war, which will affect your plan to avenge your father.”

“I disagree with both options,” Martha said unreasonably. “The war to avenge my father must continue, and I don’t want anyone in the tribe to oppose me because of it.”

"You're really putting me in a difficult position," Ryan said, pretending to ponder deeply for a while before finally saying, "Actually, there is a way."

"You say it."

“Some Riverlands nobles deserted the battlefield and headed north to support your brother Kyle,” Raine said slowly. “I recently received news that their fishing boat sank in the Raging Tide River, and all the passengers perished.”

“This is retribution,” Martha said coldly. “Their abandonment of avenging my father is tantamount to betraying their vassal oath of allegiance, and this is the punishment the gods have brought upon them.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Raine said. “Therefore, you can declare them traitors of the Reach, confiscate their lands and property, and then promise to use it to subsidize the losses of the vassals in this war. This way, you won’t have to use the Malorne family’s money, and you won’t disappoint the nobles too much.”

“That’s fine.” Martha finally breathed a sigh of relief. “Raine, thank goodness you were here with me, otherwise I really wouldn’t know what to do…”

"Raine?" Bersalia poked her head out from outside the door. "I've already... Oh, did I disturb you?"

“No.” Martha nodded to the dark elf. “I have no further questions. Goodbye.”

Watching Martha disappear down the corridor, Bersalia crossed her arms, turned around with dissatisfaction, and complained:
"No wonder you didn't want to sleep with me. So you prefer married women? What's wrong with that? You should have said so earlier. As long as it's your mission, it's not like I can't find a bastard to marry..."

“Stop,” Renn said slowly. “She’s here to ask me a question.”

"How do you become a duchess?" Berthalia chuckled. "I suggest she delegate everything to you, and all she has to do every day is sit on the duchess's throne and stamp your important decrees."

"That's none of your business," Ryan said calmly. "What do you want from me?"

"Can't I come to see you for no reason?" Berthalia sat on his desk. "How does it feel to manipulate the Duchess?"

“She’s not the kind of weak person who can be manipulated,” Renn said thoughtfully. “She’s testing my attitude and using my prestige to ensure that the nobles will continue to support her.”

“That’s normal,” Berthalia commented. “Even without any professional training, a woman can easily and accurately identify the highest-ranking man in a group of men. You can understand it as us having an extremely keen sense of social atmosphere.”

“I’m not interested in your boring talents,” Renn said. “As long as she can keep the nobles united to fight the savages, I can naturally keep her in this dukedom.”

“I’m also glad to hear you’re not interested in her personally.” Berthalia looked relieved. “If I lost to her in love, I’d kill myself right here and now.”

"Stop trying to seduce me," Ryan said impatiently. "What do you want from me?"

“The interrogation of the savage captives has yielded results,” Bersalia said.

After the Wraith Legion's failed raid on Eagle Fortress, the Savage Army has retreated back to the Serpent Mountains, and almost no scouts in the allied forces dare to venture alone into the mountains to spy on the enemy.

Raine dispatched Fatin and Aurora, who joined forces to venture deep into the Serpent Mountains, where they annihilated a savage outpost and captured their leader.

Berthalia used her superb interrogation skills to extract a great deal of information from the squad leader. For example, the Wild Elf King demanded that all tribes offer a certain amount of "human sacrifices" to replenish the wraiths lost in the raid on Eagle's Keep; and since the death of the werewolf Ruft, the wolf rider legion had been divided among various forces, and it was now difficult to form a well-organized fighting force.

When asked about the location of the Wild Elf King, the squad leader gave a suspicious piece of information, saying that someone had witnessed the Wraith Legion stationed west of Ravenburg, but there were no buildings or settlements in the deep mountains and wilderness there, and no one knew what the Wild Elf King was up to there.

Unfolding the map on the desk, Bersalia picked up a quill and drew a circle somewhere on the map, saying:

“I asked him to recall carefully, and he said it should be in this place.”

Ryan stared at the circle for a long time before suddenly standing up.

Hell's Cauldron! Wait, how can different dungeons be interconnected? Am I falling into a cognitive blind spot again?

The Serpent Mountain Range, far removed from civilized areas, is home to many high-level dungeons. The Hell Cauldron is a must-run dungeon for heretics because the final boss drops "Fragments of the Vicious Scripture"... Experienced gamers know that when they see the word "fragments," they know that many players will live in the dungeon year after year, even if they don't need them themselves, they can sell them to collectors.

The Vicious Scripture is a skill book for heretics, and the Wild Elf King, as an undead boss, certainly cannot use it; his target is most likely the Hell Cauldron.

This thing can continuously transform the surrounding environment towards hell. Simply put, it turns water into lava, grass into thorns, soil into gravel, animals into demons, and keeps the temperature constant above forty degrees Celsius.

The undead are unaffected by this harsh environment, but it's a different story for humans. To avoid a decline in combat effectiveness, they must consume expensive fire-resistant potions, and there's absolutely no way that Raine could buy a bottle of fire-resistant potion for every member of the allied forces, even if he had the money, he wouldn't have enough alchemy players to make them for him.

The Hell Cauldron in the dungeon cannot be moved, but it's hard to guarantee that the Wild Elf King won't find some magical means to move it at will. If he were to bring it to the gates of Eagle Hold and turn the plains south of the Raging Tide River into a literal, scorching inferno, the situation would become extremely troublesome.

Of course, Raine wouldn't be stumped by such a thing. He simply asked Bersalia to call over the demon hunter expert Murak and the death priest Nisk.

“I have reliable intelligence proving that the Wild Elf King has found an evil artifact called the ‘Hell Cauldron.’” He explained his conclusions and intelligence to the two in detail. “What strategies do you have?”

"Excuse me for asking directly, but is your information credible enough?" Murak questioned bluntly. "If it was the Wild Elf King deliberately spreading the word to lure us over and ambush us, that possibility is probably more plausible than the 'Hell Cauldron'."

“I’m willing to vouch for the veracity of this information,” Ryan said slowly and deliberately.

The information about the Cauldron of Hell came from his memory; the Wild Elf King couldn't possibly know that. It's impossible for a normal person to deduce information about the Cauldron of Hell from a vague, general location.

“If that’s the case,” Death Priest Nisk suddenly said, “we can use this opportunity to launch a surprise attack on the Wild Elf King.”

Both Ryan and Murak frowned and stared at him.

"It's crazy, but it's also quite feasible, isn't it?" Nisk shrugged. "Because of the characteristics of the Hell Cauldron, its surroundings must be an extremely hot environment that is unbearable for living beings. Only the undead can live there unaffected, right?"

"In other words, apart from the Legion of Wraiths, there is no other military force in the Savage Army that can protect the Wild Elf King for a long time. If we can organize an elite decapitation force, which can both restrain the Legion of Wraiths and endure the infernal environment, we may be able to bypass the western route and launch a surprise attack on the Cauldron of Hell, and assassinate the Wild Elf King."

Even the skeptical old Murak had to admit that the plan did sound feasible, while Rennes had even more factors to consider.

As a seasoned necromancer, she wouldn't fear even facing an army of vengeful spirits alone, let alone with four ancient heroes under her command, each a formidable woman capable of taking on a hundred enemies single-handedly. They would surely bring endless surprises to the Wild Elf King! The biggest obstacle to beheading the Wild Elf King is the massive army of wildlings guarding her. However, as Nisk said, the environment surrounding the Cauldron of Hell treats all living things equally, making it impossible for the wildling army to remain there for long.

Isn't this the perfect opportunity for a decapitation strike?
Ryan was finally tempted. Even considering the possibility that it was a trap, he was absolutely not going to miss this opportunity.

Of course, before setting off, they had to get enough fire-resistant agents for this decapitation team.

------------

The highly anticipated inaugural Fahre Prize has finally been announced.

As expected, the five professional magic awards were won by well-known figures in their respective fields, and there was no unexpected occurrence of a "nobody outshining everyone else to win the grand prize".

As for the Spell Contribution Award, it was given to an unknown individual:
Stray dogs.

The Wildhound Mage appeared to be a woman in her forties. She had no real name and had never told anyone what she was called. According to the Storm Province Spellcasters' Guild's records, this woman's hometown was Hyrule in the North, which was known as the "Mage Desert." Therefore, it was unknown who maliciously gave her the nickname "Northern Wildhound," and she did not object to it.

Her major was alchemy, which is potion making. Alchemy and rune magic are the two most lucrative professions among all mages, and Wildhound Mage was excellent at both potion making efficiency and potion quality, but she herself was always extremely poor, and no one knew where she spent all the money she earned.

Renn invited the Wildhound Mage to Eagle Keep under the pretext of presenting an award.

“Besides the bonus, I have another order here,” Ryan said.

“No,” said the wild dog mage. Her voice was very hoarse, like that of a stray dog ​​that had been starving for a long time and only had the strength to whimper.

"Don't be so quick to refuse," Ryan reminded him with a smile. "My compensation will definitely satisfy you."

“Queen Rose,” said the Wild Dog Mage.

Hmm? Renn frowned slightly, not expecting that the other party would actually use that name.

"I'm studying her manuscripts," the Wild Dog Mage said in a rare, complete sentence. "I don't have time."

The field of alchemy has many research directions, such as enhancing physical fitness and treating diseases. Of course, there is also the "potion of turning stone into gold" that alchemists dream of. Its inventor was an ancient wizard whose name is unknown, but the specific formula has been lost. Currently, it is only known that one of his fingers was made into a magical item, and the bodily fluid that seeped from it also has the effect of turning stone into gold. The last owner in history was the Rose Queen of the Red Soil Plateau.

Of course, the Rose Queen's research manuscripts contained no record of a potion that could turn lead into gold. She was primarily researching various poisons.

“What a coincidence,” Renn said slowly. “I also have an alchemist here who has an extremely deep understanding of the Rose Queen’s various studies. I can even say that you will never find anyone in this world who knows more about poisons than her.”

The Wild Dog Mage did not respond; her silence spoke volumes.

I do not believe.

"Dia!" Renn called to the maid in the next side room, "Go and fetch Berthalia!"

The Wild Dog Mage remained expressionless, unmoved by the name. After all, many people name their children after their fathers or ancient heroes, so there's nothing strange about it.

Berthalia rushed over and, after hearing what Rein had to say, looked at the northern woman with surprise.

Is this my die-hard fan?
“Alright, come with me.” She lifted her chin and said, “Not just anyone is qualified to study the Rose Queen’s manuscripts. I want to see how skilled you are in alchemy.”

Bersalia arrived at her alchemy lab with her wild dogs and arrogantly said:
"Petrifying solution, one and a half bottles. The ingredients are on that shelf over there. Show me how to prepare it using the equipment here."

The Wild Dog Mage silently stepped forward, took out the necessary materials, and began to skillfully process them.

Bersalia watched with her arms crossed, and soon couldn't help but say:
"Who told you to boil black nightshade in water? Don't you know that boiling will cause the toxins in black nightshade to dissipate?"

“But this will also remove the pungent smell of black nightshade, making the poison even harder to detect,” the Wild Dog Mage said fluently. Her usual taciturn style seemed to have completely disappeared when it came to matters involving alchemical potions. “Even with reduced toxicity, it still has a considerable lethality.”

“To remove the pungent odor, you can add milk, leech venom, and talcum powder,” Bersalia sneered. “On the contrary, weakening the toxin will prevent some vigorous beasts from being killed immediately by your inferior poison. Did your barren brain even consider this possibility?”

"Anyone who would use petrification potions to deal with powerful beasts must be out of their mind," the Wild Dog Mage retorted.

The two quickly began arguing fiercely. Bersalia soon discovered that this wild dog mage was indeed highly skilled in alchemy, completely surpassing her, a pragmatist who was severely biased towards poisons. However, he had no talent for poisons, lacked imagination, and always liked to apply knowledge from other fields to poisons.

No way! Your line of thinking is completely wrong! I admit you're an excellent alchemist, but you're absolutely not qualified to be my apprentice! You stone-headed idiot!

The two returned to Renn's study after arguing, and Berthalia immediately concluded:

"She is indeed very talented in alchemy, but in the field of poisons, she is not even as good as a dog on the street. At least a dog can spread the mad virus. My suggestion is to let her study those tonics and sell them to those noble old men and women. At least she won't starve for the rest of her life."

"What about fire-resistant agents?" Renn asked.

“That works too,” Bersalia said dismissively. “Anyway, fire-resistant potions aren’t difficult to make.”

“It needs to be able to withstand the infernal environment,” Renn continued.

Bersalia strangely shut her mouth, only observing Renn's expression; as for the Wild Dog Mage, she had little expression to begin with, and it was difficult to discern her true thoughts from her face.

"Purgatory environment, hmm?" Bersalia repeated, making sure Rein wasn't joking, and said calmly, "To go to Hell, fire resistance potions are just the most basic requirement. You also need to consider the sulfur winds that blow there all the time, and the demon minions that roam everywhere. So you'll also need poison resistance potions, thirst resistance potions, and potent potions against evil."

“I can put them all into one potion,” said the Wild Dog Mage.

“Very good,” Renn said with satisfaction. “I want a dozen. Get them ready as soon as possible. Just tell Bersalia what alchemical materials you need.”

"Wait, those are my materials!" Bersalia exclaimed in a panic.

“I had all your alchemical materials obtained for you by my own people,” Raine said calmly. “They were paid for with my money.”

"What's given to me is mine!" Before Bersalia could finish speaking, she was stopped by the Wild Dog Mage.

“Give me the materials,” she said.

“You’re a dog! Even a dog that asks its owner for food will at least wag its tail!” Bersalia yelled.

Regardless, Raine's orders were absolute, so Bersalia had no choice but to bring the Wild Dog Mage back to the lab, sneering as she said:
"Take whatever you want. No matter how well you perform, the most you'll ever get is a potion-making job. I advise you not to dream of going any further. Once you're done, get out of here."

“You’re imitating,” the Wild Dog Mage suddenly said.

“Hmm?” Bersalia raised an eyebrow.

“You are imitating the Rose Queen from a thousand years ago,” the Wildhound mage said slowly. “She was a stingy, vengeful, jealous, and mean-spirited dark elf, and you are merely imitating her personality.”

"I—" Bersalia laughed in exasperation. What do you mean by imitating yourself? Do you even know my true identity... huh?

Is she vengeful, jealous, mean-spirited, and evil?
"You are a descendant of Helene Isa?" Berthalia asked in a deep voice. "She's the one who slandered me like that in her diary, isn't she?"

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Wild Dog Mage said blankly. “I’ve never heard of the name Helene Issa.”

“Lies!” Bersalia sneered. “‘Stingy, vengeful, jealous, and mean-spirited’—that’s what she used to say, even the order of the adjectives is exactly the same!”

"You are a descendant of the Orphan of the North, a survivor of the Issa family, who were wiped out in the North decades ago!"

(End of this chapter)