Zeweier’s mood was extremely terrible.
The high-altitude air currents were very turbulent. Every time the flying dragon flapped its wings, his fat jiggled.
What was worse, the flying dragon was said to have been washed clean, but it still had an extremely strong stench on its body—the unique body odor of a magical beast, mixed with sweat and urea.
Zeweier clutched a scented handkerchief drenched in high-end perfume, pressing it to his nose, his face full of disdain and disgust.
“What kind of crappy mount is this? It’s jolting me to death!”
“Can’t the Royal Knight Order find anything better?!”
Zeweier shouted curses, his voice distorted by the wind.
Not far away, Count Lai’en sat on another flying dragon. He was originally returning to his own territory anyway, and after hearing that there was a chance to meet the Goddess, he simply joined the team to bask in the glory.
Hearing his master’s curses, Lai’en quickly made his flying dragon move closer and shouted flattering words across the wind.
“Prince Zeweier!”
Lai’en shouted at the top of his lungs. “The teleportation array from the Royal Capital to the Border was broken by some damn person. There’s no help for it.”
“Just consider it an inspection of the people’s circumstances, enduring a little hardship. Once we reach Tattle Town and meet the Goddess, gaining the deity’s support, the whole world will be yours!”
Hearing this, Zeweier’s anger subsided a little.
He turned and looked at the massive formation following behind.
Dozens of two-legged pet flying dragons, each carrying fully armed Royal Knights. Under each dragon’s belly, huge supply crates were suspended by thick ropes.
They were filled with gold coins, cloth, grain, and high-grade potions.
These were his bargaining chips to open the Goddess’s door.
He felt that by bringing so many supplies under the banner of worrying about the country and people, supporting the Border, and then shedding a few tears and putting on a compassionate act, the Goddess would definitely be moved by his sincerity.
As long as the Goddess spoke in support of him, even if old King Richard hesitated, he would have no choice but to pass the throne to him.
Thinking of this, Zeweier had already begun to fantasize about his days as king.
When that time came, he would triple the taxes on those commoners in the Outer Ring!
No, quintuple them!
The lives of those lowlifes were meant to be exchanged for gold coins. What did he care whether they lived or died?
“Lai’en!” Zeweier yelled.
“Yes! What are your orders, Your Highness?” Lai’en quickly replied.
“Tell the men to fly faster! I, this prince, can’t wait to see the Goddess!”
Zeweier burst out laughing, his fat face scrunching up, looking extremely greasy and hypocritical.
At this moment, directly below the flying dragon formation was an endless primeval forest.
The trees here were extremely tall and lush. Looking down from the sky, it was a green ocean, impossible to see what was hidden beneath.
At this moment, in the depths of this green ocean.
Five hundred Night Demon Society members were silently crouching on thick tree branches like monkeys.
Each of them wore dark green camouflage and had mud smeared on their faces, almost blending into the surroundings.
The leading squad leader was also bald, but he had a deep scar over his left eye, making him look very fierce.
It could be said to be a combined version of that day’s Baldy and Scarface.
The scarred bald man was sitting on a tree trunk, carefully wiping a hard bow in his hands with a rag.
On the bow’s arms were densely carved acceleration magic arrays. As long as a little magic power was infused, the arrows shot would double in speed.
He himself had no magic power or talent for magic, but in the pouch he carried were pieces of magic-storage crystals.
And in the quiver on his back were full of specially made arrows.
The arrowheads flickered with a dark red glow – they were armor-piercing and fire-starting magic runes.
On a nearby tree, a tall, thin man was crouching.
“Boss, can we really kill someone from the royal family today?” The tall thin man leaned over and asked in a low voice. “That’s the Second Prince, with plenty of guards.”
The bald man stopped wiping his bow, turned his head, and glared at the tall thin man. “The Vice President’s information is absolutely correct. Those royal bastards must fall from the sky today!”
The bald man took a deep breath, his eyes full of hatred. “Have you forgotten why we joined the Night Demon Society?”
“My little sister, only fifteen, was forcibly taken by those nobles to pay taxes. They locked her in a basement, tortured her for three days and three nights, and when they threw her out, she wasn’t even human anymore!”
After hearing this, the tall thin man clenched his fists and said nothing.
The other Night Demon Society members around also had reddened eyes.
These five hundred people were all commoners whose families were destroyed by the nobles’ harvesting game.
They harbored a deep-seated hatred for the existing human society, for those high and mighty royalty and nobles.
Today, heaven had granted them a legitimate opportunity for revenge.
Even if they couldn’t kill him directly, as long as they could make Zeweier bleed a little and lose some skin, they would consider it worth it.
Suddenly, a faint flapping sound came from high above.
The sound was chaotic, mixed with a few unpleasant screeches from magical beasts.
The bald man immediately pricked up his ears, then stood up abruptly, grabbing the hard bow at his feet.
“They’re here!” the bald man said in a low voice.
All five hundred instantly entered combat readiness.
Their movements were uniform; they drew the rune-carved fire arrows from their quivers and nocked them on the bowstrings.
The bald man looked up, staring intently at the sky through the gaps in the leaves.
Several black dots appeared in view, growing larger.
It was Zeweier’s flying dragon formation.
They weren’t flying very high, because the heavy supplies were draining the flying dragons’ stamina, and their speed wasn’t very fast.
This altitude was just within the absolute range of the accelerated hard bows.
The bald man raised his right hand. Five hundred bows were drawn at once, the bowstrings creaking with tension.
“Aim for the dragons’ wings and bellies, and those bastards on their backs!”
“Release!”
The bald man’s hand slashed down sharply.
Zeweier was still up in the sky, lost in his grand delusions.
“Lai’en! After that mountain, are we almost at Tattle Town?”
He pointed a fat hand at a faintly visible mountain peak ahead and shouted at Count Lai’en.
“Yes, yes, yes! Your Highness has keen insight!”
Count Lai’en quickly nodded like a pestle. “After that peak, we can rest a bit, then fly for another two days and we’ll arrive. Look at the scenery below—though a bit desolate, it will soon be under your feet…”
Before Lai’en could finish his flattery, his voice abruptly stopped.
“Become what? Why did you stop talking?” Zeweier frowned.
He followed Lai’en’s terrified gaze downward.
There, in the green forest below, a dense patch of red dots suddenly appeared without warning.