Chapter 114: First, Expel From Humanity
Toothed Forest Edge.
After the forest fire spread for hundreds of meters, the flames grew smaller and smaller, eventually dying out gradually, leaving only wisps of smoke drifting in the wind.
Over a dozen Shadow Figures gathered from all around, holding weapons or clubs, rummaging through the ashes for something.
“Over here.”
A man felt his stick hit metal, and with a flick, he unearthed a dry, hard thing from the ashes.
The others crowded over, their gazes sweeping across it, bodies freezing as they all fell silent.
It was a corpse, but it no longer resembled a human, like a hunched, withered monkey clad in a twisted, deformed suit of armor, pitch-black all over, only identifiable as once human from the skeleton.
“What are you standing around for? Get moving, take the corpses and weapons, don’t leave anything behind. We only have half an hour.” One of the men barked angrily.
Hearing this, the others didn’t dare hesitate and pulled out prepared bags and gloves to get to work.
On a treetop not far away, a Shadow Figure hid in the canopy, clothes and posture blending perfectly with the trees, hard to spot even up close.
He didn’t go forward; after all, he was merely cooperating with the other side, each belonging to their own group, and their relationship wasn’t even amicable.
After a long while, he sighed inwardly: ‘Very cautious.’
After the combat ended, the winning side didn’t come down to collect the loot or confirm the attackers’ identities; they withdrew immediately, calm as wizards.
He waited below for a long time, but that man and woman showed no sign of returning; it seemed this mission had completely failed.
‘That was Anse?’ He recalled the intelligence he’d reviewed before, eyes full of disbelief. ‘Impossible, right? How many days has it been?’
No sorcerer, no matter how genius, could be this outrageous, unless he wasn’t human.
‘Could it be a god reborn?’
Considering the current bewildering situation, he suddenly found this explanation quite reasonable.
‘Could the gods be at war again, with many already fallen or reborn, so their followers can’t contact them? How many people like Anse are there…’
His thoughts diverged, his expression growing increasingly grave.
‘This matter must be reported immediately!’
——
Jacqueline Castle, a luxurious bedroom.
Old Butler Harold patiently introduced Anse to the various living facilities, especially the washroom, whose layout was surprisingly similar to Black Tower’s, just larger and better equipped.
Not only was the design ingenious, but many functions were powered by magic.
A sense of disconnection welled up in Anse’s heart again; commoners and professionals were as divided as the Outer World and inner world.
The commoners’ world was truly backward in systems, technology, medicine, living facilities… much like medieval Europe in his previous life.
Whereas professionals, especially spellcasters and great nobles, enjoyed conveniences and comforts only found in his previous life.
There were even magic ships that could sail the Astral Sea here; the style changed completely.
Still, he knew these were products of civilization’s development and evolution—existence implied reason.
After the old butler left, Anse secured the doors and windows, activated the Scepter of Sanctuary, and entered Hollewen.
As soon as he entered, a wave of heat mixed with smoke hit his face, carrying a faint meaty aroma.
In the plaza, over three hundred kobolds were busy lighting fires and fanning them; the flames were small but the smoke thick, stinging the eyes.
Anse wasn’t surprised; he’d seen it earlier through the Scepter of Sanctuary’s projection.
Brat and the others were leading the kobolds to process dragon meat!
After skining the dragon tail, draining and portioning the dragon meat, they hadn’t waited for Anse, and after soaking overnight and drying half a day, the dragon meat showed signs of spoiling.
It went against common sense, but it had indeed happened.
Dragon meat was precious, but without processing, leaving it out would still lead to spoilage, just much slower than ordinary meat.
Fortunately, during the last sale of wyvern meat, they’d discussed storing dragon meat; without magic, common methods worked.
Like salting with spices, smoking, air-drying, and such.
After using up all the salt, Brat and the others turned to smoking.
Seeing Anse enter, Brat and the others hurried over.
“You’re finally here. How do we handle this thing?” Brat was covered in black ash, looking distraught.
Dragon meat was a legendary thing; no one had seen it before and they feared wasting it.
“Smoking works fine.” Anse patted his shoulder. “How much dragon meat is left?”
“Less than half is smoked; too much meat, too few people.” Brat pointed to the large racks behind him, loaded with chunks of meat.
By “people,” he meant humans; the kobolds didn’t understand him, Giant Tail wouldn’t translate, so efficiency was low.
“Is the storage room cleared?” Anse asked.
“Half cleared; the two ice cellars in the corner are done.” Brat immediately grasped Anse’s intent.
The basement storage room had cold storage, but it was empty and needed new ice.
“Great, let’s start making ice.” Anse waved grandly and got to work.
Making ice was as simple as eating or drinking for him; just slightly alter the Ray of Frost spellcasting mode.
They didn’t use river water but purified water from Black Tower, absolutely clean.
Giant Tail led the kobolds to fetch water; Anse stayed in the ice cellar making ice, each point of his finger producing dozens of pounds of ice blocks, simpler than Ray of Frost.
Brat and Finn roughly shaped the ice blocks and stacked them; neatness didn’t matter, fill gaps with ice shards.
Later, no ice shards were needed; the ice cellar grew so cold that splashed water froze instantly, forcing Brat and Finn to take turns outside to warm up.
The ice cellar soon took shape; all dragon meat and dragon blood went in, safe from spoiling for a short time.
Dragon bone, dragon tendon, and dragon scale went into the storage room too; ice-making had cooled the entire basement, convenient for storage.
Giant Tail and Finn had beast hide processing experience, but not refined enough; Anse decided to ask Illyas for advice and hire professionals.
After the forest battle, their relationship had changed; this small matter shouldn’t be a problem.
Unnoticed, night had fallen, so it must be dark outside too.
Anse gave Brat a few instructions and hurriedly left.
Back in the castle room, urgent knocking sounded at the door.
He quickly opened it; Illyas stood outside, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room, teasingly saying:
“You’re hard to invite; had to come myself.”
“Uh, was meditating earlier, didn’t hear.” Anse gave an awkward laugh and a lame excuse.
“Heh, dinner.” Illyas turned and walked off, leaving him her back.
Anse then noticed Illyas had changed into a black dress, soft and form-fitting, revealing stunning curves, with soft slippers on her bare feet, walking silently like a cat.
The two went downstairs one after the other to the first-floor dining room, where the old butler stood at the entrance to greet them.
The dining room was large, brightly lit, filled with the aroma of wheat and meat; a long table sat in the center, the host’s seat at one end empty, only an old woman seated to the left.
Two waiters stood on either side, one man and one woman, both appearing in their thirties or forties.
As Anse entered, nearly all eyes fell on him, mostly curious.
“Sorry, lost track of time.” He nodded in greeting; keeping an elder waiting was rude.
“Sit quickly; no strict rules here.” The old woman stood, a warm smile on her face.
Though wrinkled and gray-haired, her back was straight, posture elegant, features delicate; she must have been a great beauty in youth.
“This is my grandmother.” Illyas helped her grandmother sit, gesturing for Anse to sit opposite.
Anse sat quietly, inwardly curious how such a large castle had only two people.
The elder seemed to read his mind and smiled, explaining: “Illyas’s parents died in an accident; she’s held it together alone these years.”
Since then, Jacqueline Castle hadn’t hosted outsiders overnight.
“Let’s eat.” Illyas clearly didn’t want to dwell on it, picking up her wine glass for a sip of wine, her lips growing more vivid.
It was clear there were no harsh noble etiquettes here; everyone was casual.
This suited Anse perfectly; if it were too formal and tedious, with everyone putting on airs, he’d definitely move out.
