People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

"Take this inhibitor; one dose can be used three times. Your condition is quite serious. If you have a relapse, come see me again; I have emergency inhibitors."

His hand was halfway out when it was blocked by Bozokasti.

"Give it to someone else."

Bozokasti shook his head slightly:

"I... don't need it."

"We don't lack it."

Hedley smiled.

He had seen many Sarkaz like this. Sarkaz, even newborn babies, were countless, some even suffering from diseases, or even directly infected with Oripathy.

He'd been an inspector for so long, and some Sarkaz families had passed the assessment. When receiving aid supplies, they would deliberately defer to each other, the elderly to the young, men to women, and the seriously ill to those with milder symptoms. The dark and bright sides of humanity were vividly displayed in these people.

Hedley wasn't particularly high and mighty; it was just that his position, the support he had for Sheraton and Ernst, and the resources he controlled made him wonder about these people:

"Why do you guys think this thing is so rare?"

These Rhodes Island inhibitors were all obtained directly from Kal'tsit. Ernst provided her with the orders and helped her solve the Sarkaz problem. Kal'tsit's reward was not just an occasional consultation.

The collaboration between Rhode Island and Serrano is not limited to setting up an office in Serrano.

These inhibitors were all sold at cost price. Moreover, Sherag didn't have to spend a single penny; it was all charged to "Kazdelnia's" bill.

Sherag was just paying the money upfront, essentially giving Kazdelnia a loan, waiting for those old Sarkaz to pay him back with gold coins.

What? It can't produce any more, not a single drop left?

No problem, we'll return the goods with cheap labor, Sarkaz knowledge, and all sorts of rare collectibles preserved by the Sarkaz! They have tens of thousands of years of accumulated treasures!

"So, take it without worry. This is Kazdel's gift to every wandering compatriot returning home!"

Hedley said,

"Don't let down your compatriots' good intentions."

Bozokasti was stunned for a moment, and when he came to his senses, the inhibitor had already been stuffed into his hand.

He hadn't heard the word "compatriot" in a long time.

Yelena was his daughter, and although they were not of the same race, he had come to regard her as family. Everyone in the guerrillas treated him like a brother and were utterly loyal to him; with them by his side, Bozokastie never felt lonely.

But decades later, hearing the word "compatriot" spoken in Sarkaz, from the mouth of a Sarkaz in Kazdel, still stirred something within him.

This is a feeling that originates from the deepest part of every Sarkaz's heart.

"Compatriots."

Bozokas muttered something to 8, then 6 nodded and accepted the three from the east and the west.

"grateful."

"No need to thank me. If you want to thank someone, thank Prime Minister Ernst."

Hedley said, and the "Eye" beside him nodded in agreement.

The recognition of a royal court ruler is an honor that countless Sarkaz dream of, let alone the recognition of a non-human being.

Bozokastie fell silent again, but this time, he wasn't thinking; he was happy.

At least, what he had witnessed along the way was not a deliberate performance. The peace he saw while walking through the settlement was not an illusion. The image of Prime Minister Ernst that he had heard about did not diminish or collapse as he got closer to Sherag; on the contrary, it grew even more dignified.

He had thought that, after all, neither Hamer nor the members of the Presbyterian Church of Mount Eden had any direct interest in Ernst, so their eyes were inevitably filtered through a friendly lens toward Ernst, and what they said could be believed, but not entirely.

But now, the bad news is that Himer and the Hermit of Mount Eden are indeed viewing people through a filter, failing to depict a complete Ernst.

The good news is that the complete Ernst seems to be even better than they described.

Bozokast was in high spirits. No one could understand Ernst's existence and what his actions meant better than a veteran like him who had fought against the reactionary pickets in the snowy tundra for more than a decade.

On a smaller scale, he gave Sarkaz a home, helping these homeless and suffering people gain a chance to live with dignity.

On a larger scale, he sent a signal to all the oppressed: if the Sarkaz have a chance to turn their lives around, then why can't the others?

Ok, good, good!

Bozokasti's voice carried a hint of joy:

"I will thank him."

"I wonder how many Sarkaz are here...?"

"It's close to five thousand people."

Hedley Road.

Originally, there were more than 5,000 people. After the Sarkaz draft was passed, a large number of Sarkaz from all over the world gathered in Shelag, and at its peak, nearly 7,000 people were gathered outside the city.

But those who came later all successfully passed the assessment and entered Sherag.

Why? The principle is actually quite simple.

The first Sarkaz to arrive in Sherag were recruited by Hadreh, and there were specific requirements, so most of them passed the requirements.

The second group consisted of people forced to come to Sherag due to the requisition of the mobile city of Kazdel. Most of them were not well-educated, and their moral standards and abilities varied greatly, so most of them were trapped outside.

The third group, those who came to Shelag after the draft of the nation-building plan, were all Sarkaz who were truly dedicated to building Kazdel and the Sarkaz homeland! Most of these Sarkaz had jobs or lives in other countries, and some even had families. They were true idealists, talented idealists. Although they didn't have the same level as Nasti, crossing the not-so-high threshold of Hadley was a piece of cake for them.

After this group of people entered Shelag, there were several rounds of personnel turnover, with some leaving, some arriving, and people from outside the city eventually stabilizing at the current level of over four thousand.

For a nation, this number of people is clearly too small. But it doesn't matter, Hedre knows very well that most of the Sarkaz are still watching. They have been deceived too many times and have been lured in by empty promises. They won't set off until they see Kazdelnia actually take to the skies.

However, even with only four thousand people, Bozokaslut was still incredibly surprised by the number. *2

"What about the royal court?"

“Many of the royal court races have come, including several royal court lords, but Necire and Ducarre did not come; they chose Theresis.”

"Hedley replied."

One of the six Sarkaz heroes, the Carrion King Neltzer, did not choose Sherag; he stayed in Lontinim with Bloodlord Ducarre.

Bozokastie, a disciple of Niezile, felt somewhat regretful upon hearing this news.

But he could also understand his master's thoughts.

The Scavengers are unlike any other Sarkaz; their lives are almost entirely tied to war. When war breaks out, the Scavengers thrive; when war ends, they perish. He too had an obsession; he desperately wanted a war that would "change everything."

But can war really change everything? Ursus's sweeping conquests, in the end, didn't they also...

Bozokast could only let out a sigh.

But he quickly perked up; he knew that Hadley's arrival also meant something else.

He will soon be able to meet Ernst Shivaesh.

The world belongs to young people like Talulah and Yelena. Bozokast is very curious about what kind of young man Ernst is.

Chapter 664 Bozokasti, do you want to improve?

Shelag, Sakaz Residents' Committee.

The residents' committee was bustling today, with several royal court Sakaz who don't usually appear here showing up.

Before Ernst arrived, they looked Wendigo up and down, who had just arrived in Shelag.

"Tsk, what's going on? He's supposed to be a pure-blooded Wendigo, is he serious about all these diseases?"

Fremont clicked his tongue, his face clearly showing his disdain.

He didn't dislike Bochokast; he just felt sorry for Bochokast.

He'd actually witnessed quite a few Sarkaz working for others and fighting for foreign tribes. Even these liches, hadn't they been following Letania for the past thousand years?

While Fremont was somewhat conservative, he wasn't rigid and wouldn't scoff at such behavior like Blood Lord Ducarre did. He was also principled and reasonable.

Since it's working for someone else, wages are expected, right? If it's a mercenary, it's even easier to say; it's an equal exchange. The Sarkaz risk their lives for someone else, so at least outside of the battlefield, they won't have to worry about food and clothing, or at least they won't suffer too much hardship, right?

But look at Bozokasti? He's riddled with illnesses, and these aren't just simple Oripathy. He has at least a hundred hidden injuries, and in some places, even the Wendigo's skeleton shows signs of cracking!

Even if the royal physicians of the Letanian royal family were to treat these illnesses, they would most likely give a "no cure" answer. If it were an ordinary soldier, he would probably have died dozens of times over! It's only because Bozokasti is a Sarkaz, and a pure-blooded Wendigo at that, that he has barely managed to hold on until now.

Fremont even found it somewhat laughable when he thought about it!

The Sarkaz's tenacious vitality prevented Borocaster from succumbing to the wounds left on the battlefield, but it caused him to suffer for a longer period of time until Oripathy, an incurable disease in this era, finally grew to a fatal degree.

For a moment, he couldn't even say whether it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Faced with Fremont's nagging, Bozokastie was somewhat helpless.

He couldn't even utter a word to refute it. On the tundra, he, a Sarkaz several hundred years old, was undoubtedly an elder compared to those descendants of the First Men. But here, Fremont, Lamaren, who among them hadn't lived longer than him? Who among them wasn't a renowned hero, scholar, or great wizard?

They were of the same generation as their master, Zero, the King of Carrion, Niezilei. Compared to them, Jiu felt like a younger brother.

Moreover, although Fremont's nagging was grating, Bozocasti knew that he didn't mean to blame him.

After a long pause, he could only silently squeeze out four words.

"I do not regret."

"No regrets?"

Fremont was taken aback, then burst into laughter, laughing so hard he turned around and pounded the table.

No regrets, what a wonderful statement about not regretting.

That temper of his is exactly like Niecilei's.

But he never imagined that he was carrying the last hope of an ancient Sarkaz tribe on his shoulders!

The liches are a race that values ​​heritage, history, and knowledge above all else. The title "Last Pure-Blood Wendigo" represents a heavy past and signifies a glorious thousand-year history facing a terrible threat. No one knows this better than they do!

He genuinely didn't want to see Bozokasti so indifferent to him.

Ramalyn walked to his side and gently patted Fremont's shoulder. A hint of helplessness appeared on her face behind her veil. Fremont also put away his smile and let out a long sigh.

Well, perhaps he was indeed narrow-minded.

The era of the royal court has passed, and the younger generation of Sarkaz are increasingly indifferent to its legacy. Whether this is a blessing or a curse remains to be seen.

Meanwhile, the sorceress queen, who claimed to "destroy all royal courts," looked at Bozocasti, stood on tiptoe, reached out, and wrote a spell on Wendigo's head.

"Stagnation, but the mind is not bound by language."

The Great Banshee spoke softly, and her words became law. Bozokasti felt a cool breeze pass by, and when he opened his mouth again, the sound came out of his throat first:

"What kind of incantation is this?"

He was slightly taken aback.

"My voice?"

Lamaren placed her hands on her abdomen and smiled slightly:

“I can’t cure illnesses, but I can help you break down the boundary between what you think and what you feel. You can get used to it first, so you don’t say things you don’t want to say.”

"Mr. Ernst will be here soon. We can't expect you to communicate with him while you're stammering like that, can we?"

"Thank you for your help, Ms. Ramalyn."

Bozokasti bowed slightly, greeting the somewhat petite banshee before him.

Then, his gaze turned to the last person in the room.

Blazing flames emanated from his armor. He didn't introduce himself, but Bozokasti had already guessed his identity.

"Are you the resurrected Flame Demon?"

"Wendigo. The Wendigo I first saw were just a bunch of skeletons."

Safar, who had been summoned, stood up, but not as tall as Bozokasti, so he sat back down, pondering whether to ask Miloki to change his armor, and said...

"Back then, you were also a powerful clan under my king and Quilon, the vanguard of punishment. I never imagined that now, you would be the only one left."

"Over three hundred years old, you look old beyond your years. Do you live up to the bloodline you have?"

Bozokasti paused for a moment, then replied:

I have done right by myself.

"So, tell me about your achievements? Wendigo, I heard from them that you went to that country called Ursus and fought for their emperor your whole life, leaving your mark all over Terra. So, what is your proudest achievement?"

Bozokastie answered without hesitation:

"I fought Ursus on the frozen plains for over a decade. I destroyed hundreds of black mines and liberated many people."