"Cough cough, cough cough cough...!"
Mortis took out a silk handkerchief and wiped the unsightly traces from the corner of his mouth before looking at Mofulei and confirming: "Eugene is dead?"
The news was so shocking that the [Deliciousness LV8] Blood Jade Wine he had just drank tasted somewhat bland.
Mofulei didn't raise her head, merely presenting the stack of intelligence in her hands with both hands.
It was an urgent secret report from the northern border, placed before the Emperor along with Duke Dean's latest message.
A group of tribesmen had displayed strength far exceeding expectations.
Duke Eugene, who had gone to subjugate them, was killed almost right in front of Dean.
Mutated Puchis, the fungal mat, parasitized individuals, and a vampire traitor who advanced through unknown means.
The Emperor reviewed these pieces of intelligence one by one, his gaze lingering on the information related to Louisa for a moment longer.
"To think the Holy Scripture is actually in the Northern Territory..."
"Your Majesty," Mofulei asked softly, "Dean's request for reinforcements... shall we alter our current deployments?"
Mortis remained silent for a moment, then shook his head.
"No. Grant Dean full authority and let him take over the entire northern border. He needs to hold on by himself until matters on this side are completed."
"Yes!"
Taking another sip of the Blood Jade Wine freshly presented as tribute by Sigmund, Mortis revealed a heartfelt smile.
There was only one way for a vampire traitor to advance, and Mortis knew this better than anyone.
And right now, the only ones who possessed the blood-snatching ritual were himself and Vesalius. As existences standing at the pinnacle of the bloodline, it was impossible for them to leak this ritual out.
Then, the only possibility was the Holy Scripture that had yet to be found to this day.
Since there were traces of the Holy Scripture, then who exactly the mastermind behind such an anomalous Northern Territory was became self-evident.
Suddenly launching an attack at this juncture—the goal was obviously to distract his attention and disrupt his existing deployments.
In other words—the Demon King had placed a piece on the board.
However, this instead gave Mortis a bit more confidence.
With the Demon King as an opponent, even though Mortis sat upon the entire Empire, he had never felt he had absolute certainty of victory.
But since the Demon King needed to weaken him by all possible means like this, it was obvious his condition was lacking, and similarly, he didn't have complete certainty.
And he would not fall for the trick. In Mortis's view, even if the entire northern border plunged into a sea of fire, it wasn't as important as the Demon King alone.
Moreover, he still had hidden trump cards...
After arranging the matters of the northern border, Mortis walked out of the large tent with the succubus.
Outside the tent, at the entrance to the Dragon Cliff Dungeon, the scene was bustling with activity.
Thousands of craftsmen and mages were busy near the entrance. A giant composite magic array had already taken its initial shape.
The array runes were nested layer upon layer. The mana crystals at the core were piled up into a tower, with each piece requiring precise calibration. Looking from afar, the scale of that magic array was sufficient to cover the entire valley.
But Mortis didn't spare it a second glance. These were all put on for outsiders to see. Facing the Demon King, who stood at the pinnacle of spellcasters, the vast majority of magic arrays wouldn't even have the qualification to activate.
He turned and walked into an inconspicuous hidden passageway nearby. That passageway was narrow and winding, without a single trace of mana fluctuation. All the mechanisms were purely physical structures—gears, levers, hidden doors—going deeper underground layer by layer.
When he pushed open the final stone door at the end, a completely different space unfolded before his eyes.
It was an annular underground space excavated around the Dragon Cliff Dungeon.
The dome towered high, the four walls were chiseled flat, and there was a dim kerosene lamp every several dozen paces.
And within this underground area, there was similarly a group of craftsmen and mages busily working. What they were arranging was another type of magic array.
A Mana-Sealing Array.
Unlike the ostentatiousness of the outside, every carved line here was carefully concealed, and every mana crystal was wrapped in lead casing, ensuring not a single trace of mana fluctuation would leak out before activation.
"How is the progress?" Mortis's voice echoed in the cavernous underground.
"It will be completed within two months," Mofulei replied.
"And confidentiality?"
"From the moment these people entered, all communication with the outside was forbidden." Mofulei's voice was very low, so low that the craftsmen not far away couldn't hear a trace. "Once the array construction is complete, this subordinate will personally dispose of all those in the know, ensuring no one can leak the arrangements here to the outside."
Mortis nodded.
"Not bad. But also don't forget to occasionally show your face at that magic array outside. Don't let people generate unnecessary suspicions." He paused, revealing a trace of a smile. "This is the surprise I have prepared for the Demon King. Do not let any mishaps occur, like what happened with Eugene."
...
The Empire's northern border.
Dean looked at the letter of appointment that had just arrived, his face showing absolutely no intention of happiness. The pressure on him now was greater than ever before.
Having just suffered a major defeat, the strength in the north had plunged into an unprecedented low, yet the Emperor actually had no intention of sending reinforcements?
One must know, even if those tribesmen in the Northern Territory had no intention of attacking, it was impossible for the dwarves to let go of such an opportunity.
Although he had already reached a mutual assistance agreement with Duke Levi at the first possible moment, the future was still unknown.
And what gave him even more of a headache were those Demon-kin soldiers who fled back...
"Lord Patriarch, those routed soldiers are starting to act up again."
Having learned of the fungal mat's monitoring capabilities from Eugene's last words, and then seeing these demons who ran back carrying mycelium, how could Dean not overthink it?
He locked them up separately in several camp areas. Under the guise of taking care of them, the reality was that he didn't dare to let them out.
Dean also wasn't sure what exact state they were in. Although it didn't seem like they had defected, who knew how many of them had problems?
Who knew if this parasitizing mycelium had some functions that even they themselves were unaware of?
"Lord Patriarch, I think we should just kill them all! There's no need to gamble on that kind of possibility," a Demon-kin suggested.
Before Dean could speak, another Demon-kin stood up and said: "Are you saying that Sehi and Luohuo should also be killed? That those over a thousand Demon-kin should also be killed together?"
The Sehi and Luohuo he mentioned were two of the Demon-kin commanders who had accompanied Eugene on the expedition this time.
Before this, they were also existences capable of standing in this room to discuss clan affairs together.
Now, due to the issue of mycelial parasitism, those Demon-kin who returned were also temporarily quarantined.
Internal unity was paramount among the Demon-kin; at least Dean valued this point very much.
With the objector putting it this way, the Demon-kin who suggested killing them all found it hard to say anything more.
Dean leaned obliquely against his chair. Looking at this scene, he couldn't help but sigh heavily.
Killing them—he couldn't kill them. Killing them would alienate people both internally and externally.
On his own territory, relying on long-term management, he could still control the situation. But on the newly controlled territory of Duke Eugene, although the nobles and soldiers under Eugene wouldn't go so far as to directly mutiny, he couldn't expect them to exert any effort in subsequent battles.
Locking them up—wasting the already scarce military strength on internal friction, while conveniently leaving behind these hidden dangers that could explode at any moment—was even more unviable.
Wanting to cope with the impending war, wanting to raise combat power as much as possible without reinforcements...
Dean seemed to have choices, but in reality, he had no choice.
"Sigh," he sighed heavily, covering his forehead and waving his hand. "Release them all. Reorganize them."
...
On the other side, the dwarves who were currently celebrating their victory in the Mushroom Fortress had not yet realized the severity of mycelial parasitism.
(End of Chapter)
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