Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game

Chapter 51: Friendly Taranthan Undead

Chapter 51: Friendly Taranthan Undead

Inside Lord Yang and the zombie general's tent.

When Lowell entered, his face stiffened even more as he saw the two seated side by side, with Yang Qiu on the left and the zombie general on the right.

"Please have a seat." Yang Qiu politely beckoned. "The undead are currently busy constructing the summoning array that they require. I apologize for the lack of proper hospitality."

"By tomorrow morning, we can set off again and send some of the civilians to the already habitable Exile Town we have built," Yang Qiu continued.

"…Yang," Lowell struggled to maintain his nonchalance. "I acknowledge the fact that these 'Taranthan undead' are friendly toward the living. However, I still believe that having civilians coexist with these undead isn't a good idea."

"I understand. While the undead are very friendly, their appearance may indeed be too unsettling for ordinary civilians," Yang Qiu replied with a smile. "However, please trust me when I say that it is not a major issue. For the sake of better living conditions, I believe the civilians can adapt to and accept these friendly undead."

Lowell: "…"

Having lived for nearly three hundred years, Lowell, despite being high above and separated from the common folk, couldn't be completely ignorant of the hardships faced by commoners.

He had heard countless stories of civilians committing crimes just for food throughout his life.

While there wasn't a saying like "people do not fear death but fear what kills them" in this world, the underlying principle of such a saying was universal, and wise individuals of this world weren't lacking such a similar understanding.

Therefore, Lowell completely understood the implied meaning in Yang Qiu's words—when people are struggling to survive, is it really such a big issue to coexist with the undead?

Lowell couldn't help but sigh softly.

Camore was a well-known and prosperous town in the Duchy of Shiga's east. Yet even in this town, there were commoners who would willingly devote themselves to the undead for a bellyful of food. With his extensive life experience, Lowell couldn't blame these commoners for lacking dignity or betraying their compatriots. It wasn't their fault.

Yang Qiu could empathize with the Black-robed Inspector's frustration. After all, with his age and experience, lacking a broad perspective would mean his several hundred years of living would have been in vain.

Of course, empathizing didn't mean Yang Qiu was willing to yield.

Taranthan needed to first develop in order for the Fourth Crisis to have things to do. And for it to develop, friction and conflict with its neighbors were inevitable.

Head-on confrontation right from the start wasn't impossible since the number of players still wasn't enough to crush paper tigers. So, before gaining sufficient strength, it was important to take advantage of whatever possible first and secure as much time for sneaky growth as possible while avoiding confrontation.

"I have to be honest with you, Inspector Lowell," Yang Qiu said sincerely. "In truth, Taranthan's undead accepting these Camore commoners isn't due to their own desire but simply because of my personal selfishness.

"As you know, I once stayed briefly in Camore, and I vividly remember the plight of the displaced farmers there. I know there were many unfortunate souls among them, and I just want to provide what little help I can, even if it means allowing these unfortunate people to have a few decent meals in their final years. At least, it allows me to have a clear conscience."

Lowell was taken aback. As an inspector of the Goddess of Prosperity's faith, Lowell's powerful perception allowed him to sense that Yang Qiu was speaking the truth.

It was indeed the truth. In this conversation, Yang Qiu had spoken from the heart, though he did omit some crucial details.

This made Lowell feel slightly abashed. He realized that he had interpreted and assumed Yang's intentions solely based on his own cognition and sentiment—because he found the "Taranthan undead" somewhat peculiar and was startled by the grotesque zombie general.

"You truly are a seeker worthy of respect, spellcaster." Lowell's face flushed slightly. This was him expressing his highest praise for Black Mage Yang from the standpoint of a high-ranking faithful—spellcasters called themselves seekers, which many faiths refused to acknowledge.

Toward this praise, Yang Qiu modestly replied, "I am just trying to do what I ought to."

Just as he was acting all pretentious, several players boldly entered the tent.

Lowell assumed these undead had something to discuss with Yang, so he prepared to find an excuse to leave. However, to his surprise, these skeletons didn't even pay attention to Yang and directly went toward the zombie general.

Two of the skeletons even seemed curiously fixated on him as they chattered away in some demonic tongue that Lowell couldn't understand.

"Oh, Old Yang's buddy is here too?"

"Let me take a screenshot first. I'll log out and save it once we finish building the respawn point."

"I feel that this NPC looks more like a protagonist. If Old Yang is killed off, will they replace him with this one as Lord? Nowadays, games love using this 'love-hate' plotline…"

Lowell, who couldn't understand their words, didn't know why these undead often showed interest in him. Even more puzzling was why these intelligent skeletons were surrounding a seemingly mindless zombie general.

Yang Qiu, who understood their jokes and banter, calmly sipped his tea.

He was an elder and wouldn't argue with these players over a few remarks, like how those former bandits often did.

Noticing the teapot was empty, Yang Qiu nonchalantly issued an impromptu quest.

The player who had gone on about "Old Yang getting killed off and being replaced" suddenly turned around, grabbed the teapot, and walked out, saying, "I just triggered a quest to boil water for Old Yang. You guys carry on without me!"

"Go ahead, bro!"

Lowell who still didn't understand anything: "…"

Yang Qiu smiled and explained, "I don't need words to communicate with the undead."

"…I see." Lowell reluctantly accepted this explanation. After hesitating for a moment, he couldn't suppress his curiosity any longer and asked, "These undead seem to… take some interest in me?"

"Don't mind it. They are just curious about everything," Yang Qiu waved it off nonchalantly.

After chatting with Lowell for a bit, Yang Qiu issued another impromptu quest to the player who had expressed the desire for him to be killed off.

The player, who was busy boiling water and making tea, immediately jumped up and hurriedly went to rummage through the supplies to prepare snacks for Old Yang…

At six in the evening, OtherWorld time, when Yang Qiu issued players the quest of preparing dinner for NPCs, he continued assigning the most trivial of tasks to this player…

"Something's wrong! Why do I feel like I've been running errands all day today?" This player, who was having a blast earning reputation, couldn't help but grumble after being busy for the whole day.

"It's good to have quests to do," his teammate gloated. "Did you hear about Guileless Gale and Phantom's team heading out to 'explore' and got wiped out? They ended up back in Exile Town because the respawn point at this base camp hasn't been set up yet, and they can't teleport over. They've been crying over there and posted several threads on the forum asking us to speed up the construction."

"They deserve it! Those guys only call for help when they're in trouble!" This player, who was annoyed by the menial errands, suddenly perked up and cheered. Players were delighted by little things like this.

When the soldiers of the Holy Legion entered the base for dinner, they noticed a large pit dug in the center of the base. Some skeletons were preparing food for them, while others surrounded that large pit.

Black Mage Yang, accompanied by an ugly, grotesque zombie in ancient, tattered armor, was encircled by a group of chattering skeletons at the edge of the pit.

Even more absurd was that the zombie general was actually speaking, using a language similar to that of the skeletons, though with a slightly more complex pronunciation and a distinctive rhythm.

Holy Legion cavalry including Andres: "??"

Zombies, like skeletons that didn't die, were considered abnormal creatures that didn't fall into the category of normal living beings. In terms of monsters, they could be considered "physically mutated" ones.

In simple terms, they had tough skin, agile movements, and strong destructive power.

But when it came to danger… at least in the eyes of the holy soldiers, whose job was to deal with monsters, zombies—like skeletons—were a low priority for dealing with when it came to the undead.

The reason was simple: both these undead monsters had very low intelligence, and zombies much more so than skeletons.

Many black mages would use a ghost as their servant rather than a skeleton. And even if they had no choice but to use a skeleton, a zombie would never be in consideration. Skeletons could at least sweep the floor and do simple chores, but zombies couldn't even handle the most basic of tasks.

"Don't be surprised; it's just that this zombie king is rather special," Lowell told his subordinates. "The Taranthan undead are very convinced by this zombie king, and they hold it in high regard. We must not disrespect it."

"Understood," Andres replied, gulping nervously and leading the way.

"Not just the skeletons but even the zombie is special?" Several soldiers found it difficult to understand.

Having already had a meal prepared by the skeletons in the afternoon, now the civilians and even Holy Legion soldiers were rather satisfied with the evening's dinner and nobody felt uncomfortable.

Of course, the main reason for their satisfaction was the rich variety for dinner, which even included "dessert"—small biscuits wrapped in paper and pudding (jelly) in cartons.

The soldiers, who were very content with the dinner, happily returned to their own camp to rest after finishing their meal.

Seven hours after dinner.

Andres got up silently, lifted his blanket aside, and crawled out of his small tent. With a stiff expression, he gazed at the undead base.

Even in the darkness, faint noises occasionally came from the base.

This was still acceptable—there was still some distance between their camp and the undead base after all, so they could tolerate it.

But the problem was that the activities of these undead were not limited to their shabby base!

Andres didn't stand there for very long before he saw a large group of undead running out from their base under the dim moonlight, creating a rattling as they ran.

While running, these undead were also chattering loudly.

This noisy bunch passed by less than 50 meters from the southeastern side of the Holy Legion soldiers’ camp and headed deep into the wilderness.

Andres's head throbbed with annoyance at the disturbance caused by this group. He took a deep breath, then exhaled, forcibly suppressing the anger in his heart. Silently turning around, he bent over and entered his tent.

This was already… the fifth batch of noisy undead that had passed by their camp! There probably wouldn't be any more activity and noise already! Andres thought to himself as he lay back down in his blanket and shut his eyes.

Before long, this weary veteran fell into a deep sleep…

Cha Cha!

"WAKAKAAAA!"

"KUGULULU!"

"KEKUEKEKUE!"

Andres was awakened by noise once more. His bloodshot eyes shot open and he covered his head with both hands.

Andres understood that the undead didn't need rest, and he had no right to get mad. However, this was already the sixth batch coming out from there—wouldn't the base be empty by now?!

Veins bulged on his forehead as the disturbance passed, and the physically and mentally exhausted Andres shut his eyes once more.

Roughly around an hour later, the rattling of bones sounded again…

This time, the undead, still full of energy and jumping around in the middle of the night, seemed to be deliberately making an even louder din than previously.

Andres's face twisted with rage as he crawled out of his tent, and somehow a sword had found its way to his hand.

Several others lost their patience as well and emerged from their tents with weapons drawn too.

These soldiers, with killing intent surging, stared at the undead that couldn't empathize with them.

Then, these soldiers, who had decent night vision, were stunned to discover that these undead were actually arguing.

Not only were they arguing, but they had also started fighting.

Roughly 30 to 40 meters away from their camp, hundreds of skeletons were engaged in a chaotic brawl, with many skeletons glowing red from using battle roar…

Holy Legion soldiers: "??"

"If we didn't set up the teleportation point, you guys would still be crying in Exile Town! Stealing our monsters the moment you teleport here, have you no shame?!"

"Ask yourself that question! We've already given up half of the monster spawn points we discovered while exploring. What makes you think you have the right to take them from us? Such audacity!"

"Focus fire! Don't let him escape!"

"F*cking die!"

"Vanilla Slash!"