Warhammer, I'm a nanny, not your father!

Onomamos and other slaves roughly pushed away the civilians who were queuing. The slave marks on their faces made several of the pushed civilians subconsciously show disgust, but when their eyes fell on Wop who was guarded by slaves in the middle, they lowered their heads in fear and dared not speak out.

This man must be a noble, otherwise why would those slaves dare to be so arrogant?

Seeing them walking towards the noble passage, the captain of the guards smiled exaggeratedly, his voice vibrating with unnatural flattery:

"Master, I am..."

"Who do you think you are? Get out of here!" Onomamos still pushed him away roughly.

The guard captain's face was just about to show a fierce look, but the moment he looked into Onomamos's eyes, he froze. The slave's cold eyes were filled with undisguised murderous intent.

The captain of the guard stumbled back half a step, swallowed his saliva, and glared at Onomamo. He looked at Wop, but found that the latter's eyes never lingered on him.

The captain of the guard lowered his head in embarrassment, cursing Onomamos's rudeness in his heart with the most vicious words. The master of such a slave must be no good!

There wasn't even a carriage, and no guards were seen. There was only a group of combat slaves protecting them.

This dog looks like a stray dog ​​that had an accident while hunting and fled back in a hurry.

What are you so proud of?

Who are you without noble blood?

Despite the scolding, the captain of the guard did not dare to offend the nobles.

Since we all know that others are lost, wouldn't it be asking for trouble to cause trouble at this time?

"This actually works?" Mira muttered softly after entering the city.

Onomamos sneered, "They are just a bunch of scoundrels who rely on the power of others."

Wop: "What if he had just insisted on checking my identity?"

"Do you have a noble family crest?"

"No."

"Then we'll just have to find a way to run away."

"Aren't you afraid of death?"

Oenomamos: "I'm afraid, but I want to take a gamble, otherwise I will definitely regret it."

"Where do we go next?" Angron asked, looking up.

Wop: "Let's go to the Colosseum first. Do you know the way?"

"It's right there." Oenomamos slowly raised his scarred fingers.

"My Lord, do you have a plan?" asked Onomamos.

Wop nodded. "I was originally planning to stay in the countryside outside the city-state for a few months, but now my plans have changed. I plan to stay in the city for a few months."

Oenomamos asked doubtfully, "What are you waiting for? Will there be reinforcements in a few months?"

Wop pointed at Angron. "In a few months, when he grows up, he will lead you in rebellion and take over the world."

Oenomamos suddenly regretted waiting for a child to grow up? What kind of plan was that?

It would take at least ten years for a boy who is only two or three years old to grow up. What can he do in a few months?

Even if he grows up, so what? Do they think they can overthrow the entire city-state with just a few people?

"My Lord," Onomamos lowered his voice. "We can't hide in this city for months. I know you possess magical powers, but the high-ranking knights also have ways to deal with wizards. I once saw them capture a powerful wizard with my own eyes!"

"How powerful is it?"

"He just stretched out his hand and turned an armored vehicle into scrap metal."

"It's indeed powerful." Wop nodded. This is at least more powerful than 90% of psychics.

Nuceria's technology is indeed retro, but their system is even more retro. Slavery is a bit too retro. What if you want to restore feudalism?

"How was he caught?" asked Wop.

"Just like this, stranger."

A cold voice came from behind him, and Onomamos' pupils shrank slightly, and he swung his fist at the young man.

Chapter 85: Grudges (5K)

Oenomamos's fist tore through the air, whistling like a cannonball, and he shouted at Wop:

"run!"

But it was too late. Twelve guards surrounded them like ghosts, and the silver mechanical tentacles behind their heads formed a prison in the air, trapping Wop and his group in a steel cage.

The slaves roared like trapped beasts and rushed towards the guards with their flesh and blood.

But without exception, they all failed.

Onomamos's fist blasted out with tremendous force, but was intercepted in mid-air by a snake-like mechanical tentacle.

Gleaming silver metal vines instantly wrapped around his arms, snaking up along the fleshy texture like living creatures. More tentacles attacked from all sides, tightly gripping his limbs like ropes on a gallows. A metal tendril as cold as a knife suddenly locked onto his throat, strangling his roar in his trachea.

However, these guards never truly viewed the gladiators as a threat. Their contempt was hidden in every precise yet slow attack, and in the millisecond of relaxation when their tentacles tightened.

Oenomamus knew this kind of arrogance all too well; it was the first lesson he learned in the Colosseum.

As the cold metal gripped his throat and the young man's lips curled up in triumph, Onomamos made his move.

His muscles tensed instantly, veins bulging as his bound arms tore free from the mechanical tentacles, sending metal shards flying under the brute force. The young man didn't even have time to react before the fragments of shackles hidden in his fists shot out like venomous snakes, piercing his throat with pinpoint accuracy.

Blood gushed out, dyeing the silver mechanical tentacles red, and also dyeing the sneer on Onomamos's mouth red.

He won, but the other slaves did not.

His resistance was in vain, twelve slaves and twelve guards.

The nobles above them gave them a sense of fairness, as if they were playing a game.

Except for Onomamos who barely won, the others were controlled. Their bodies were bleeding from the whipping and pricking of metal tentacles, and they screamed in pain. The silver vines of the royal guards were far stronger than the fists of the gladiators.

With the death of the young man, the mechanical tentacles wrapped around Onomamos suddenly stiffened for a moment. They were like snakes whose souls had been sucked out, and they completely lost their vitality.

The tight strangulation force suddenly relaxed, sliding softly from the gladiator's twisted muscles. As soon as Onomamos broke free, he immediately pounced on another guard and shouted at Wop, who was still standing there, "Run!"

"Oh! You are so loyal, Onomamos. It seems you have found a new master."

A humming silver sphere descended beside Onomamos, and a high-pitched female scream emanated from the speakers built into its case.

At this time, Onomamos had been caught by the tentacles of two guards and could not move.

He stared at the suspended silver sphere, his eyes burning with unwilling anger. He stretched out his fingers to grab it, but the tentacles prevented him from moving.

The sphere continued to spin indifferently, reflecting a cold light, as if mocking his futility.

"And you, my dear, what is your name?"

The silver sphere gracefully floated in front of Wop and asked Wop in her exaggerated accent.

"Please put away your naive little thoughts, otherwise your slaves may pay a small price for you. But don't worry, I won't kill them. After all, they are the hottest stars in the arena, and people love to watch their games."

Wop's attention had long since shifted away from the chattering silver sphere. His gaze passed over the noisy sphere and fell on the armored vehicles on both sides. These two steel behemoths were facing him with giant satellite dish-shaped devices on their roofs.

Wop and Angron were unaffected by it, but Mira's body trembled violently. Scarlet blood streaked from the corners of her eyes, and then bright red blood beads oozed from her nose and mouth. Her body collapsed as if struck by an invisible hammer, and Wop gently held her in his arms.

"It's very uncomfortable, isn't it?" The silver sphere suddenly rushed in front of Wop's eyes, almost touching his nose. "You wizards are indeed powerful, but this is our secret weapon against wizards. How can you not fall down until now? You are really tough. I like you more and more. I hope you can last as long in bed as you do now. So, can you surrender?"

Worp ignored the sphere's warning and slowly extended his right palm.

"It's useless. No wizard can use their power in front of them. Surrender. As long as you surrender to the high-ranking knight, I will guarantee your safety and theirs. I really don't want to hurt you."

The sound of the silver sphere stopped abruptly because she saw a faint blue psychic light emerging from Wop's palm.

In an instant, dozens of silver spheres swarmed in from all directions, flashing chaotic electronic light and emitting screams one after another.

"Impossible, how could the holy object become ineffective?"

"Guards, stop him!"

The Royal Guards are the followers of the High Knights. They obey the orders of the High Knights completely. The silver vine tentacles pierced Wop, trying to stop him.

They thought that even if Wop could use psychic powers, he would be suppressed by the holy objects, but the reality is often unexpected.

"Snapped!"

In an instant, the entire space was swept by a dark blue psychic storm.

The two armored vehicles made teeth-grinding metallic groans in the storm. The thick armor plates twisted and wrinkled like fragile tinfoil. The gears and bearings splashed out dazzling sparks under the high pressure and turned into a ball of twisted scrap metal in the violent explosion.

The silver tentacles that the Royal Guards were so proud of also made crisp crackling sounds in the light, breaking into pieces like shattered glass artifacts.

Wherever the psychic energy waves passed, metal fragments turned into silver flakes that slowly drifted away in the void.

"what!"

The guards suddenly knelt on the ground and let out heart-wrenching wails.

Sharp electric sparks burst out from the neural interfaces connecting the back of their necks to the mechanical tentacles. Some people scratched the back of their heads desperately, their nails digging deep into their scalps, but they could not stop the uncontrolled neural currents from wreaking havoc in their brains.

"Snapped!"

Wop snapped his fingers nonchalantly, and a series of crisp pops rang out like firecrackers, and the suspended silver spheres exploded into brilliant metallic fireworks one after another.

The fragments froze in the air for a moment, then turned into silver metal rain and fell down. Only the original chattering silver sphere was still suspended in the air.

Her voice softened. "We can talk. Since you haven't hurt me, there's still room for discussion between us, right?"

Wop: "You're right, we can talk now. Do you want to come to me, or do I want to come to you?"

The silver ball spun around Wop happily. "Dear, you can come find me. Do you see the tallest tower? That's my home. My home is quite big. You..."

"You're so nectar-filled."

"Snapped!"

Just like the other silver balls, the psychic energy crushed it.

"My Lord," Onomamos said in a deep voice, "The words of the Maggot Eye are not trustworthy. They must have prepared a trap for us!"

Wop shook his head. "I'm going to see her. You can leave the city first. No one should stop you now."

The slaves who broke free from their bonds surged forward like a tide. Onomamos spoke on their behalf: "My Lord, we will not run away again. At least this time, let us protect you!"

There was an incredible trust in the eyes of these slaves, as if they had experienced countless life-and-death battles together with Wop, but in fact they had only known each other for a few days.

Angron's ability acted as a catalyst, accelerating the tempering of this bond.

"Angron, what do you think?" Wop asked the boy, looking down at him.

Angron's childish voice was filled with undeniable determination. "Let's go meet her. I want to know why."

They advanced towards the tower, civilians along the way avoiding them, and no new guards or high-ranking knights stepped in to intercept them.

Perhaps, as Onomamos said, there was a trap waiting for them.

Like the sky-piercing spire of Nostramo, the interior of Desia's tower is also drenched in suffocating luxury, and every inch of space shows off the owner's wealth - the gilded columns are wrapped with glowing crystals like living vines, and even the air is fumigated with expensive spices, with a dizzying sweetness.

Murals made of liquid metal flow on the walls, depicting the great achievements of its owners throughout the ages.

Wop saw hundreds of winged warriors battling a horde of raging beasts, and though they paid a heavy price for their efforts, they ultimately emerged victorious.

Two female guards pushed open the adamantine door engraved with the noble family crest for Wop, but when the slaves subconsciously tried to follow in, several tentacles suddenly shot out like poisonous snakes and crossed their chests.

Wop handed Mira to a female/slave, "Onomamos, you wait here for me."

Onomamos nodded, looking at the guards with undisguised hostility.

"Welcome to my kingdom, my dear."

A familiar voice came to Wop's ears. He looked in the direction of the sound and saw a graceful silver-haired woman leaning lazily on the adamantine throne, with silver-white metal wings stretched out behind her. Every feather was radiating a moonlight halo, making her look like an angel descended to the earth.

A wolf-shaped mask with a blood diamond on its forehead covered her face. Golden lines like nerve links extended from the edge of the mask, and those metal veins as thin as hair extended all the way to her temples.

"High-ranking knights never reveal their true faces." She stretched out her body like a sated cat and whispered deliberately, "But if you tell me your name, I will take off my mask and show you!"

"Wop."

"Nice to meet you, dear Wop, I am Claudia Octavia."

She slowly rose from the throne, her silver wings casting a dreamy halo behind her. Her jewel-encrusted skirt rippled with her movements, like a flowing river of stars.

The fingertips covered with golden nails touched the edge of the wolf mask, and with an inaudible click, the golden wires of the neural connection fell off one after another.

The moment she took off her mask, the light in the hall suddenly became gentle, illuminating a face that was so beautiful that it could outshine the stars.