Black Hearted Mage

Chapter 159 Landfill

Kaesas's shocking words resonated like a thunderclap through the hearts of the old ogres, sending shudders through them. After all, the spotted vipers emerging from the ground were already a significant challenge for them. If other types of magical beasts followed suit, the entire northern plateau would be plunged into irreparable ruin, its former peace and tranquility forever lost.

At this time, Trum asked with a look of doubt on his face: "Caesars, do you have any evidence to support what you said?"

Kaisas nodded confidently and replied, "Of course there are. Back in the day, Jerry Rhodes, the greatest shaman of the ogre tribe, lived. During his glorious era, Raven Rhodes was the most powerful magician on the Roland Continent. He once personally journeyed into the mysterious underground world. Not only that, he meticulously mapped the route to the underworld and meticulously documented and described the various subterranean beasts that inhabited it, creating an invaluable atlas of subterranean beasts. The atlas reveals that two subterranean beasts feed on vipers. One is the Stoneclaw, which possesses claws as sharp as knives that can easily tear through a viper's body. The other is the smaller Dark Lizard, which is incredibly agile and can swiftly swipe through the darkness to hunt its prey."

When Caesars presented these irrefutable proofs one by one, the other old ogres became even more anxious, stamping their feet anxiously like ants on a hot pot. In the Highland Ogre tribe, there have always been legends and stories about the underground world. Now that they heard that these legends were very likely to become reality, how could they not be worried?

"High Priest, we can't wait any longer. Fill this crack immediately. It will be too late if we delay any longer!" An old ogre urged anxiously, sweat beginning to appear on his forehead.

"Call our tribesmen, call our northerners, and fill these cracks in the earth immediately!" Trum roared, waving his sturdy arms vigorously. "Everyone, quickly put on your gear and start clearing out the vipers from the far north!"

Following Trum's command, the other old ogres immediately got busy, holding the communication stones in their hands and shouting at the top of their lungs, their rough and hoarse voices seemed to pierce the sky.

Not long after, a deep horn sound resounded through the sky, like the roar of a long-sleeping beast. Immediately afterwards, the dull sound of war drums followed like rolling thunder, shaking the earth slightly.

Caesars frowned and looked northwest. There, a mountain stood, not too high but rather steep. He thought to himself: This sound must have come from that mountain.

At this moment, the mercenaries on the east side of the Great Rift looked at each other in bewilderment and confusion. These men, who had lived on the brink of life and death for years, were completely baffled by the sudden sound of drums and horns, unsure of what they meant.

The low sound of the horn kept echoing over the vast plateau, like a passionate war song, as if it was conveying some important information or signal to a distant place.

"Old Roman, what's going on over there?" Cairns, the vice president of the Magic Guild, approached an elderly man with an anxious look on his face. Beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead, and he was clearly deeply uneasy.

You must know that this northern plateau isn't human territory; it belongs to the Northmen and the Ogres. Even a powerful wizard like a Grand Mage must exercise extreme caution here, as the Ogre Shamans are their natural nemesis. Furthermore, the ferocious Ogre Berserkers are so powerful and invincible that few human mercenaries would dare to provoke them.

The old Roman shook his head and replied helplessly: "I'm not sure either! But judging from the situation, I'm afraid it won't be a good thing..."

Old Roman, with his snow-white hair loose, stroked his beard and frowned as he looked back at the place he had come from. The distance was too great, and he saw nothing.

Suddenly, the ground began to tremble slightly, as if a sleeping beast were awakening. The vibrations came from afar, slowly approaching the people. Everyone looked at each other, a sense of foreboding welling up in their hearts. Soon, they realized the vibrations were coming from behind them.

On the distant horizon, a cloud of dust rose, obscuring the sun. Accompanied by a deep roar, tens of thousands of northerners, clad in heavy leather armor, surged forward like a tidal wave. The iron-clad bulls they rode were enormous, their muscles skewered, their every step shaking the earth. Carrying heavily armed northern warriors on their backs, their imposing presence was terrifying.

At that moment, a Northlander in composite leather armor rushed over and charged into the tent area where the human mercenaries were. He raised his giant blade spear high in the air and shouted, "The Prophet has ordered all humans to leave the earth rift immediately. We are going to fill this huge crack!"

Hearing this sudden order, the crowd erupted in excitement. A mercenary asked, bewildered, "Didn't we agree to fill the site in half a month? Why is it suddenly so many days earlier?"

However, before the mercenary could get a response, the northerner who came to deliver the order roared again: "This is the latest order from the Prophet! Fill this crack immediately. If any human dares to stop us, then we will start a war!" His voice was like a thunder that split the sky, causing pain in the eardrums of everyone present.

For a moment, the mercenaries were whispering to each other, discussing the matter. They had traveled thousands of miles to this cold and unfamiliar northern plateau, hoping to gain something here, but now it seemed they would return empty-handed.

Those from the Magic Guild, the Northern Tower, and other major forces were also bewildered and at a loss. The orders of the tribal prophet had always been unquestionable, and now there was no room for negotiation.

"Where is the prophet?" asked old Roman.

"The Prophet is northwest of the Great Rift!" the northerner replied.

When everyone looked northwest, they saw smoke and dust billowing in the distance, like a sandstorm. Old Roman knew that the Highland Ogre Tribe must have come out in full force, but he couldn't understand why it happened so suddenly.

Several old ogres were already heading north, with Kaesus following behind them. In the distance, a number of white bulls were pulling carts loaded with large rocks. The size of the rocks suggested the ogres had explored the cracks in the earth, and the large rocks would effectively fill them.

As the Frostmane Bull Caravan approached, thousands of tall and burly Highland Ogres gradually came into view.

"Old Trump, where is Melissa?" Caesars looked at the convoy and did not see Melissa, so he asked.

"It should be at the back of the convoy. Caesars, your magic emblem is a bit weird. I think I've seen this pattern somewhere before!"

Trum scratched his head, recalling carefully.

"Trump, I think I've seen this pattern before!"

"I think I've seen it before, but I can't remember it!"

Several old ogres were talking at once, staring at Kaesus's magic badge. Kaesus had no time to explain to them now, as he was craning his neck to watch the ogre convoy approach.

The carts in front of the caravan began to stop one after another, and they began to separate the carts from the Frostmane Bull. At this time, a female ogre with several large braids, riding a sturdy Frostmane Bull, was slowly approaching from the back of the caravan.

"Melissa!"

Caesars shouted loudly, waving his hand. Many young ogres stared at him with wide eyes, some gloating.

Melissa was the most outstanding and powerful of the younger generation of ogres. Her shamanic rank rivaled that of several of the tribe's older shamans. Few of the younger generation dared to address Melissa by name, let alone a young human.

"Kaissa!"

Melissa recognized the person immediately and immediately jumped off the Frostmane Bull and walked over quickly. A strong hand slapped Kaesus's shoulder, causing him to stagger and almost fall.

"Melissa, you're taller than before!"

Kaisas raised his head and looked at the female ogre who was about three meters tall. She was really too tall.

"Caesars, you've grown a lot. You used to be as long as two loaves of bread!" Melissa said, gesturing with her big hands.

Trum also grinned at this time. He reached out and patted Melissa on the shoulder: "Melissa, take a look at Caesar's magic badge. Doesn't the pattern on it look familiar to you?"

"Kaisas, you little guy is already a high-level magician, this is really surprising to me!"

Melissa said as she looked carefully at the other party's magic badge. The pattern on the badge looked like a tower, and the shape of the top of the tower was very special, it was in the shape of a crown.

"This pattern is very similar to the emblem on the ancestor's statue. It's the Black Holy Tower—the Frost Crown! Kaisas, where did you get this magic emblem?"

"The ancestor's statue is in tatters, and only a small part of the emblem remains. I was wondering why it looks familiar!"

Before Caesars could answer, Trum sighed. The statue of the ogre ancestor had long been in such dilapidated condition that even the emblem on it was missing more than half.

"Grandfather, the tribe has a portrait of our ancestors with a complete emblem pattern on it. Kaisas, first tell me the origin of your magic emblem!"

Melissa has a bad temper and she is unwilling to wait a moment to know the origin of the magic badge.

"Jerry Rhodes is your ancestor, Raven Rhodes is my ancestor, and this Frost Crown Badge was obtained from the underground ruins of Ludwig Castle!" Caesar explained.

"Kasas, it turns out we are a family!" Melissa shouted in surprise. The loud voice spread far away, and the ogre in the distance was stunned.

"Old Trump, when will this crack be filled? I can also do my part!" asked Caesars.

"Fill it in right away. First, sprinkle some snake repellent powder, and then you can get started. We don't have enough powder, so we'll have to fill it in at night!"

The old ogre waved his hand, and the ogre potion master produced a hide pouch. They then headed towards the fissure in the earth. The ogre warriors cleared the vipers that were far from the swarm, smashing them to pieces with their giant blade spears.

"Old Trump, you don't have to come to fill the landfill at night. I can drive away these vipers. But you have to speed up. If there is no frost at night, the vipers may not return to the underground world!" Caesars reminded.

If the vipers don't return to the underground world, the monsters that hunt them will follow them out. Trump is very clear about this.

"Don't worry, the Northlanders on the southern grasslands may not come, but the Northlanders on the plateau will come, otherwise they will have no place to live!"

As Trum spoke, three great mages bypassed the earth rift and arrived at the ogre camp. Since the three veteran mages were familiar with the North Tower and the ogre tribe, they had no trouble getting there. Seeing the three great mages approach, Caesars quickly removed his Frost Crown badge.

"Trume, what's going on? Why do we suddenly have to fill this crack?"

It was old Roman who spoke, and he seemed a little impatient.

"Old Roman, there are other magical beasts coming out from underground, at least they are much more ferocious than the viper. Once the food chain of the underground world is interrupted, more magical beasts will rush to the surface, and they may even be super magical beasts. We don't have time to wait for a month, we must fill this crack in the earth immediately!" Trum said with a serious expression on his face and an undeniable tone.

"How do you know about the underground world?" Keynes asked with some confusion.

"Back then, it wasn't just the Magic Guild who explored the underground world, right? Our tribe has stories passed down through the generations, and the underground world is part of those stories. So, put away your curiosity, pack up, and get out of here. We can't catch any more vipers; we have to send them back to the underground world!"

As he spoke, Trum took out his weapons: a magic steel shield over an inch thick and a one-handed axe weighing one or two hundred pounds. He wasn't afraid of these great magicians. With the shaman's terrifying explosive power, superb defense, and almost abnormal spell attack power, no great magician could be his opponent.

However, shamans also have their shortcomings. Their magic sea is too small, and high-intensity spell combat can only last for five minutes. After five minutes, they must rely on brute force to fight.

On the Roland Continent, shamans were known as the "Five-Minute War Gods," and this was the reason. However, shamans all had mana potions, so sustaining a ten-minute battle wasn't a big deal.