Chapter 1167 - 184: Sights of the Territories Along the Road to Marle Castle and the Shadow of War_4

Chapter 1167: Chapter 184: Sights of the Territories Along the Road to Marle Castle and the Shadow of War_4

As far as the eye can see, there are twisted strangler figs, tangled ancient trees, bottomless quagmires, and puddles covered with thick duckweed, reflecting an eerie light. Roads? Here, they’re almost a luxurious concept. The so-called "road" is merely a narrow plank path paved with wooden stakes, gravel, and resilient vines on relatively solid mud, winding and twisting like a giant beast’s intestines deeply embedded in dense vegetation.

Here is the absolute domain of Count Litaner, a unique kingdom made up of treacherous swamp, rivaling the size of a count’s territory. His ruling core, [Mud Crown Castle], though hidden deep in the swamp and unseen, influences like omnipresent miasma, blanketing every inch of the mire. The arrival of the Hesse Territory caravan is undoubtedly like a boulder thrown into this seemingly calm, yet treacherous mire.

The speed of the caravan inevitably slowed down, as if trapped in sticky amber. The heavy wagons trudged on the slippery plank paths, with wheels often sinking into soft mud, requiring the escort soldiers to push and pull strenuously. The maneuverability of the air cavalry units was also severely limited. The dense canopy greatly compressed flying space, making the large wings of the griffins and horse vultures awkward at low altitude, only able to conduct low-altitude patrols over relatively open waters or plank paths. The Flying Horse Knights, relying on their nimble and agile advantage, shuttled through the forest crevices undertaking more critical front scouting tasks.

Yet, everyone could sense it——countless eyes were staring at them through dense branches, turbid water surfaces, and even surging mud. It was a spine-chilling feeling of being watched by the swamp itself.

The Count’s "welcome" soon arrived in his peculiar way, neither by a massive army at the border nor by warm hospitality, but by the swamp’s own "animated" malice.

Without warning, colorful poisonous miasma would suddenly rise from certain puddles or rotting tree holes, drifting towards the caravan with the wind. The well-prepared convoy immediately took out various products from the perfumers to disperse the toxic mist. Meanwhile, countless disease-carrying, huge mosquitoes swarmed like dark clouds, with the guards igniting specially-crafted insect-repellent herbs, and the Flying Horse Knights precisely igniting insect-repellent smoke bombs with enchanted arrows, barely resisting this biological weapon’s attack.

Hilude’s griffins and Flying Horse Knights repeatedly captured fast-moving figures, those were the "frogmen" scouts able to breathe freely in the bogs and underwater. They slipped away like mudfish, striking quickly and retreating immediately, never confronting directly, leaving only a few strange mutters and ripples where the mud churned. Occasionally, on foggy dusks, in the turbid water deep beside the plank paths, there was a faint emergence of a boat-shaped shadow covered with slippery moss, bizarrely shaped, silently gliding past like a ghost ship, and soon disappearing into the thick fog. This was the Count’s unique "swamp boat" troops, elusive.

Yet even amid such difficult trekking, Hesse Territory’s escorting units maintained a high level of discipline. Elite soldiers, clearly armored and well-armed, kept a neat formation even in the mire. The Champion Knights were like mobile fortresses, their eyes keenly scanning for any suspicious movement. This display of steel-like willpower and combat effectiveness in a harsh environment was a potent deterrent in itself. The frogmen and swamp boat troops, adept at ambushes and harassment in the bog, evidently found no weak links to exploit against such well-arrayed elites.

Under tight vigilance and ongoing minor harassment, the caravan danced on a knife’s edge, struggling through this swamp territory of the Count. Each day was long and suffocating, the moisture seemingly seeping into the bones, with unknown threats everywhere. But fortunately, they didn’t delve deeper into the swamp, instead after reaching near the Black Water Vortex, they detoured through Dragonbone Shallow, a flat, dry land under the Dusk Mountain Range, a vassal territory of the Swamp Territory.

Looking back at the still mist-enshrouded, green moss swamps like mouths ready to devour people, the Knights whispered to their companions with lingering fear: "Count Litaner... truly a fearsome character. He’s turned this muck swamp into an Iron Wall kingdom, even daring to provoke a Red Dragon... However," he shifted his tone, looking with awe at Su Li’s upright figure in the team’s forefront and the golden birds circling the sky, "to make this ’King of the Swamp’ hiding in the shadows, afraid to even show his face, our Lord... must be even more terrifying."

When the caravan’s vast team finally passed the last hill without mishap, and Marle Castle’s majestic outline became vaguely visible on the horizon of the distant plains, the entire team erupted in long-suppressed cheers. They had successfully navigated all obstacles, dismantling potential ambushes bloodlessly, arriving at their destination with undeniable strength.

Su Li reined in his horse atop the hill, gazing at the city where wealth and power intertwined, a sharp arc appearing at his mouth. He knew that his arrival would surely stir up a storm in this city, but he was fearless, the golden figures of the air cavalry circling in the sky behind him, like a declaration from a kingly hawk.