My Players Are So Fierce

Chapter 216:

“You’ve done well. Such dangerous demonic objects are not something you can handle right now. In the future, if you find similar items, make sure to turn them in promptly.”

In the Blood Vulture Halls, Tris was carefully yet casually flipping through the ?Midnight Book? turned in by two little players.

Feel You Poor and Life Is Pretty Good watched the book in front of them. They saw that every time Lady Tris turned a page, strange spirit sparks would pop out of the odd book. These were the spirit echoes of the mental curses contained within being broken by Lady Tris’s spirit energy.

This scene made Life Is Pretty Good break out in a cold sweat.

He had been thinking about flipping through it on the way here.

But with the density of curses on this book, he probably wouldn’t have made it through a few pages before being finished off.

These cultists’ creepy things were really terrifying.

“Cultists often use this kind of shallow mental induction to tempt those with weak wills. Once you read it without protection, it means your mind will suffer irreversible damage.

However, speaking of the book itself, it is indeed a legendary item.

Tris looked at the various dark arts recorded in the book with interest and explained to the two curious little players:

“It’s impossible to trace when the original Midnight Book was created, but the most credible account I’ve heard is that this thing has been circulating in the shadows of the continent for at least 400 years. It’s regarded as a holy relic by some spirit mages who have fallen into darkness, but in essence, it’s just a grimoire recording various forbidden spells.

It’s said to be divided into three volumes.

They are the ‘Trickery and Destruction’ you found, which records techniques of darkness and death factions, the ‘Book of Astral Truth’ that records knowledge of sub-space, and the ‘Scroll of Dagon’ related to a legendary evil god.

You’re lucky, you picked up the most harmless volume.

Although the knowledge in it tends towards curses, corruption, and darkness, it doesn’t involve more troublesome demonic powers.”

“So, Lady Tris, is this the genuine article?” Feel You Poor asked curiously.

Tris glanced at this little darling with a mature woman’s smile as if looking at a little fool, shaking her head gracefully and saying:

“How could it possibly be genuine?

If it were genuine, you two would have become irredeemable and physically distorted lunatics due to the spirit impact the moment you saw it.

This is just a very high-quality handwritten copy.

However, the recorder likely saw the Trickery and Destruction volume in person. Look, he even thoughtfully added some annotations.

I’ve heard that the genuine Trickery and Destruction volume was personally confiscated from cultists in the Cato region by Lord Mairedin, the previous Purification Master of the Circle Tower, and stored in the Forbidden Tower of the Circle Tower. That was over 190 years ago.

Just a year before I was declared dead.

Ah, ancient stories.

But you’ve done well, and you deserve a reward.”

Tris pulled out two scrolls from the drawer, quickly wrote orders on them and handed them to Feel You Poor and Life Is Pretty Good, saying in a charming yet gentle tone:

“Go find the Blood Vulture quartermaster. Each of you will receive a mind protection ring made by me as a reward for promptly turning in the demonic object.”

“Thank you for your generosity! Your Grace.”

Feel You Poor accepted the note with a beaming smile. After glancing at it, he found it was a reward for a part of the “Clan Guard” set, which made him even happier.

That was the “top-tier set” in the current version. Getting a part for just doing a quest was a huge profit!

However, Life Is Pretty Good had some other expectations.

He said softly:

“Um… Grand Duchess Tris, I’m actually quite curious about this knowledge. Could I…”

“You want to learn?” Tris rolled her eyes.

She thought to herself that these otherworld warriors were truly ignorant and fearless. Even after being told that vampires, who are called “evil spirits,” view this thing as a demonic object, he still dares to defy the world and learn these things.

But then she remembered little Murphy’s instructions. After some thought, she said:

“It’s not impossible, but I need to filter out those dangerous spells that you can’t learn first. Afterward, I’ll allow you to copy some of the knowledge. However, warrior, you must first prove your potential as a spirit mage.”

Tris drawled, putting on a serious face and speaking officially:

“First, bring me 30 bottles of fine wine. I need them to complete a complex purification ritual for this evil spirit book. The wine must be at least 30 years old, and there can’t be any duplicates.

The longer they’ve been cellared, the deeper the purifying power contained in those mellow substances.”

“I understand! I’ll do my best to collect these for you. Thank you for your generosity, Lady Tris.”

Life Is Pretty Good saw that he had triggered the “Trial of the Trickster’s Apprentice” quest and left the Grand Duchess’s office contentedly with Feel You Poor.

On their way out of the Blood Vulture Halls, Life Is Pretty Good savored his conversation with Lady Tris and said softly:

“The NPC’s modeling is so bewitching, it’s like there’s a hint of charm in her very bones. I wonder what her favorability…”

“Shh! Don’t say it! This is a topic that can’t even be mentioned! Shut up quickly!”

Feel You Poor was startled and quickly covered his outspoken good friend’s mouth. He looked around and warned:

“Lady Tris is Lord Murphy’s official CP. Although it’s not explicitly stated in the game, their relationship is just like that. If you dare to make dirty jokes and get heard, it’ll be terrible. You know those high-level players like Brother Meow King?

They made dirty jokes everywhere and got cursed by Lady Tris. Their luck in the game is particularly bad.”

“Ah? There’s such a saying?”

Life Is Pretty Good widened his eyes and said:

“So, does this game really have a hidden ‘luck’ value?”

“There should be, I guess.”

Feel You Poor couldn’t give a definitive answer either.

After all, theoretically, he was also just a newbie who had been in the game for less than 20 days.

“Come on, let’s find a place to log off.”

Life Is Pretty Good had been playing for a day and was a bit tired, so he pulled his good friend towards the exit, saying as they walked:

“I’ll come find you in a few days, let’s meet up offline.”

“What do you mean log off? I’m already in sleep link status, I’m already asleep in reality. If you’re tired, you can log off yourself. I still have several quests to do.”

Feel You Poor’s schedule was very full. He counted on his fingers and said:

“The daily reputation quest for the Kadman People’s Army, the reputation for the Adventurer’s Guild, and the ticket quest for the fighting club. Later I have an appointment with Pomegranate and the others to do the ‘Advance into Blood Vulture Halls’ raid. Finally, there’s the summoner skill practice!

Bursting Belly said he’s already found several poisons unique to Transia that can be given to the manticore. I need to go out and look for them, and take Bursting Belly to level up.

I’m still busy.”

“Damn! Are you playing a game or going to work?”

Life Is Pretty Good couldn’t help but cover his face and said:

“It’s just a game, isn’t it enough to have fun? Why so tired?”

“You don’t understand, you haven’t experienced the fun of this game yet. Later you’ll be like me too, young man.”

Feel You Poor wore an expression of an “experienced person” and grinned, whistling casually as he summoned his manticore to descend from the sky. He mounted it and disappeared into the morning light of dawn.

Life Is Pretty Good pouted and opened the “sleep link program” of his game helmet.

He stretched his body in reality, closed his eyes and went back to sleep, then opened his eyes again in the game.

“Ugh, it’s already dawn.”

He felt this strange experience of playing games while sleeping and “crossing between two worlds,” feeling as if he was really dreaming. He was about to go to the administration office to wake up his two assistants.

Just after the two little rich guys left, Tris received a bead communication from Murphy.

The lord asked her to meet in a certain area under the Blood Vulture Halls. The witch hunters had initial conclusions from their research on the remains of the ghoul overlord at the bottom of the sewers, and Murphy thought Tris should know about this.

The Blood Vulture Grand Duchess immediately rubbed her brow. The fact that little Murphy was so cautious fully indicated that the corpse used as the “cultivation base” for the ghoul overlord also had some background.

This made Tris can’t help but complain why things in Transia are always so terrible? It’s just like pulling cassava, you pull out one and a whole string comes with it. You can never guess how many awful consequences an unexpected event will trigger.

But complaining aside, as the strongest person currently stationed in Crimson Citadel, Tris couldn’t abandon her responsibility to this land.

She quickly arrived at Murphy’s side.

It was an abandoned room at the bottom of the halls that had just been cleared out by workers a few days ago. It had now been set up by witch hunters with many natural wood carvings and ritual tools to create a barrier to prevent the overflow of death spirit energy.

But natural spirit energy wasn’t kind to vampires either, so Murphy, Maxim and Tris could only stand outside the room, watching Grandma Marianne, Old Eugene and Natalie deal with the remains of the ghoul overlord inside.

This thing hadn’t fully formed yet, but the residual Netherworld power meant it couldn’t be casually discarded. It was like a “source of pollution”, simply digging a hole and burying it could easily trigger a second undead disaster.

“We estimate we’ll have to burn it,” Tris said, examining the witch hunters’ handling process in the room. She fiddled with the Sonata scepter and said to Murphy:

“We can’t use ordinary flames to burn it. The purifying fire from Natalie’s holy sword can help us complete this task, but what exactly did you want me to see by calling me here?”

“It’s two things,” Murphy said, opening a wooden box in front of him. Inside were 10 pale, twisted bone claws and a pile of ghoul teeth tainted with foul power. These were “materials” just obtained from the ghoul overlord, all classified as “high-level rare materials” when appraised.

He didn’t want to waste them, so he said to Tris, who had a strange look in her eyes:

“I hope you can use your superior alchemy skills to process some of these things, make them into battle swords and short swords or daggers, preferably make a ‘Ghoul King’ series. This way I can have more rewards to give to my warriors in the future.”

“Ugh…” Tris rolled her eyes and said:

“Your personality really suits being a housewife, little Murphy. Can’t you stand even a little waste?

This ghoul overlord hasn’t truly formed, resulting in insufficient concentration of death plague on its claws and teeth. Even if weapons are made, they won’t be as high-level as you think. Alright, alright, we’ll make the most of everything. I’ll find time to make them for you.

But since we’ve come this far, why not take out its eyeballs too?

Those can be made into ornaments for reconnaissance. And the tendons can be tanned with alchemical materials to make bowstrings. The sturdiest few bones can make two protective shields. If you don’t mind, the ghoul overlord’s extremely stretchable barbed tongue can even be made into a whip.

Hmm, looking at it this way, it’s all treasure!”

“Now that’s what I call professional!”

Murphy gave a thumbs up and exclaimed. Then he took out a computation bead to relay Tris’s instructions to Guildmaster Natalie who was busy in the room.

He could clearly see the shock and helplessness on Natalie’s face outside the room, but the Guildmaster lady of the Adventurer’s Guild didn’t object. Instead, she sighed tiredly, picked up a pair of fully protective gauntlets and a boning knife made of sacred oak from the side.

She was apparently preparing to fulfill her lord’s request to “waste not, want not”.

“Then there’s the second thing,” Murphy said, handing the box containing the ghoul overlord materials to Maxim, who held it in his arms. He stood guard here, listening to Murphy’s description to Tris.

The vampire lord looked at the final purification taking place in the room filled with green light, and said softly to Tris:

“Grandma Marianne just told me that they’ve identified the ‘original form’ of this ghoul overlord. It was a dwarf, and a frost dwarf at that. Unfortunately, it’s been too severely eroded by Netherworld power to determine his original identity.”

“Hmm? A frost dwarf?”

Tris was truly shocked this time.

As the well-informed Crimson Witch, she immediately realized the strange aspect of this matter. She frowned and said:

“No matter which clan of dwarves, even those ‘exiles’ who committed grave errors and are not recognized by the three clans, they all strictly follow the teachings of Gaia, the Mother Earth. Regardless of identity and status, after a dwarf dies, they return to the flames, and their ashes are buried in the funeral temples located beneath the earth.

Theoretically, unless an irreversible accident occurs, it’s very difficult to find an intact dwarf corpse in the material world.

Those shorties’ adherence to tradition is beyond your imagination. They once paid the heavy price of 200 deaths to retrieve the corpse of a warrior. I witnessed that with my own eyes when I traveled the continent years ago.

To be able to form as material for a ghoul overlord, the person must have been a Golden Rank powerhouse in life. Even among dwarves, there wouldn’t be many such individuals.

I haven’t heard of any dwarf powerhouse dying an unnatural death in the past decade or more.

Let alone having their corpse stolen.”

“What about further back?” Murphy asked.

“Perhaps they obtained this corpse as material decades or even over a hundred years ago?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think necromantic spells can be cast with just any corpse?

What those cultists or orthodox death masters pursue is that peculiar ‘essence’ preserved when a corpse crosses from life to death. Especially for high-level necromancy like this, the selection of the subject is even more stringent.”

Tris corrected:

“The universally recognized school of death spirit masters, those Moon Priests of Sanghai, would even start complex rituals before the subject’s death to make their death ‘complete’, in order to obtain more perfect casting materials.

That was a plague ghoul overlord!

It’s a rare high-level undead even in the Netherworld plane. The timing and conditions needed to cultivate such a thing in the material world are beyond your imagination.

This dwarf’s time of death cannot exceed 5 years! Absolutely not! And if the witch hunters have confirmed he was a frost dwarf, then perhaps we can investigate a bit in Frosthold in the Great Wilderness through that flirty fox Shani’s channels.”

Tris glanced at Murphy and said:

“Of course, I’m just offering a suggestion. It’s impossible to get Shani to help you without paying a price, so now it depends on how much you crave this ‘truth’. However, my thought is, let it go, little Murphy.

Dealing with dwarves isn’t a pleasant thing, and this involves the dangerous ‘Dusk’. If you want Shani’s help, you’ll have to tell her some things, but you can’t be sure if the Thorn Clan is ‘safe’ either.

This will greatly increase our current risk.

We can keep this urn of ashes, and then when the time is right, send more trustworthy people to the Great Wilderness to return it. But for now, your curiosity needs to be suppressed a bit.”

“Isn’t there any other way to get a clue?” Murphy said, still not giving up:

“Like some spirit magic that can extract the deceased’s memories? This way we can at least confirm the identity of this ‘Dwarf Victim Mr. X’.”

“Oh, so that’s why you called me over. I thought you just simply wanted to see me. Tch, men.”

Tris snorted quite discontentedly, shaking her head and saying:

“Such magic does exist, but I can’t do it. My understanding of death magic isn’t sufficient to cast that level of ‘necromancy’. Perhaps you could find a genuine Moon Priest who can do it. I guess they’re probably the only ones in this world who can.

But those death servants of the Sanghai Empire never leave their place of origin.

So, let’s talk about it when we have the chance in the future.”

“Hmm, we have another secret that makes people anxious. I have a feeling that once Mr. X’s identity is revealed, it will bring another bloodbath,” Murphy sighed and said:

“Sigh, why are things in Transia always so terrible?”