Chapter 492: The Water Buffalo Count's Golden Cup

Chapter 492: Chapter 434: The Water Buffalo Count’s Golden Cup

The grand palace of Leon City.

Gold was the dominant color. Massive pillars—it was hard to tell if they were solid gold or just gilded—supported the roof. The floor was paved with gold bricks, and the walls were adorned with golden bas-reliefs.

When Black Thorn and his brother were summoned by the Count and entered the great hall, they were dazzled by the brilliant golden light.

The Water Buffalo Count may have lacked the elegance of a nobleman, but he certainly understood what moved the hearts of most people.

He had deliberately decorated a rockery with all sorts of treasures, real or fake. Perched atop it was a lifelike golden marten with sapphires for eyes.

In this suffocatingly opulent palace, sapphires were the only decorative color besides gold.

The brothers had yet to recover from the shock of the extravagant architecture. In the Desert Area, building houses out of mud and making the walls as thick as possible to block sandstorms and heat was the most common style of construction.

“Look who’s here!”

The two looked up. Before them stood a man with a worrying lack of hair on his head but a thick beard. His mustache looked as if it had been meticulously groomed with a comb made of porcupine quills, then sprayed with some kind of shimmering, gold-flecked, styling Magic Potion.

This ensured his mustache curled up at the sides of his lips, twitching like the antennae of a dung beetle as he spoke.

“Good day, my lord.”

Black Thorn was the first to bow, his brother a beat slower. The younger brother likely hadn’t expected the legendary Water Buffalo Count to be so flamboyant, and he understood once again why his older brother and the elders of their family looked down on the man.

He looked like a fool wrapped in gold with only his head sticking out. It didn’t make him look valuable; it only devalued the gold itself.

‘They say he was quite wise and mighty in his day. But considering he’s been the autocrat of this desert for over a decade, his arrogance and pride aren’t entirely unjustified.’

“Black Thorn, our Lord of Hawthorn!” the Water Buffalo Count boomed, laughing heartily.

The wars on the Lu Leiyi Continent had only subsided a few years ago. That conflict had never reached the desert, perhaps because the land was too barren to grow food. This, however, had allowed the Water Buffalo Count to live a comfortable life—more comfortable than even the King’s.

“Have a seat!”

The Water Buffalo Count ordered his servants to bring chairs.

Black Thorn and his brother thanked him and sat, but they perched on the front halves of their seats, their backs ramrod straight as if the chairs were covered in biting thorns.

After a moment of silence, Black Thorn took the initiative to speak. “My lord, about Mama City…”

“Hmph!” The Water Buffalo Count snorted. “You mean the story about Baron Porcupine from East Gorge leading his one hundred men to repel an army of 200,000 Half-Beastmen?”

Although it had only been two days, the story of Baron Porcupine bravely fighting an army of hundreds of thousands to protect the princess had already spread.

Most people preferred to believe that Baron Porcupine had simply fought a battle against Viscount Matthew of the Wild Boar Mercenary Corps. The proof, they claimed, was that the mercenary corps was left with only a little over two thousand men.

The Half-Beastman army had to be a fabrication.

Still, the fact that Baron Porcupine had actually wiped out the Wild Boar Mercenary Corps was something the Water Buffalo Count, Alger, had not expected. Before this, the Wild Boar Mercenary Corps had been a formidable force. If not for a chance meeting where Count Alger had hit it off with its commander, Matthew, and successfully traded a noble title for his allegiance, even he would have struggled to control such a powerful group.

According to Alger’s original plan, once he had the allegiance of the Wild Boar Mercenary Corps, dealing with the equally stubborn Lord of Hawthorn, Black Thorn, would be no trouble at all. He could be subdued quickly.

But the Wild Boar Mercenary Corps was annihilated too quickly. When Alger first heard that Matthew had gathered over four thousand mercenaries to besiege Mama City, he had shivered with fear, even wondering what he would do if Matthew had brought that many men, plus his contingent of Transcendents, to attack Leon City instead.

After more than a decade of comfortable living, the Water Buffalo Count had suppressed military development in every way possible, both to cut costs and to prevent his subordinate lords from amassing their own armies.

The news that followed, however, was even more terrifying: the Wild Boar Mercenary Corps had been completely wiped out.

The good news was that Baron Porcupine hadn’t escaped unscathed. His losses were said to be extremely heavy; the Soldiers he brought were either dead or seriously wounded, and his Transcendents were almost all gone.

Now, Baron Porcupine was just a ball of meat with all its quills plucked out.

‘He’s no longer a threat… but I’ve grown accustomed to peace. I still don’t want to make a move.’

Seeing Black Thorn arrive now, he could of course guess his intentions.

Black Thorn stood and declared, “The domain of Hawthorn is willing to attack Mama City for you and make the blasphemer who uses Princess Sophia’s name repent before the Immortal Spirit! My lord, this is the true purpose of our visit!”

The Water Buffalo Count had spent over a decade living in pampered luxury, but that didn’t mean his head was full of sand. After a moment of thought, he laughed heartily. “Your loyalty will surely draw the attention of the Immortal Spirit!”

He didn’t mind someone else volunteering to test the waters at Mama City. Besides its horses, the place held nothing of interest to him. He had no need for warhorses; in fact, he despised the warhorses of Mama City.

It was for the best if someone else was willing to attack it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have casually tossed the problem to Matthew, the commander of the Wild Boar Mercenary Corps, in the first place.

Now, he was simply tossing it to Black Thorn.

There was another reason: deep down, he was a little afraid of Baron Porcupine. After all, the man’s reputation over the past two years had grown immense—dozens, even hundreds of times greater than that of his father, the old Porcupine.

The Water Buffalo Count’s mustache twitched. “Black Thorn, Lord of Hawthorn!”

“Yes!”

Black Thorn drew the Longsword from his waist and knelt on one knee.

“Attack Mama City, and I shall bestow that territory upon you! And I will grant you the highest honor and reward! The Golden Cup and fine wine!”

Black Thorn’s cheek twitched. He suddenly had the urge to run the man before him through with his sword, but the thought of the easily obtainable Mama City made him shout loudly, “Hawthorn will exterminate all the bandits!”

“Haha, may the Immortal Spirit watch over you!” The Water Buffalo Count walked over to the now-standing Black Thorn and patted his arm. “Come, let’s go enjoy dinner. We have the newest beer brewed in the Golden Wheat Field.”

“Yes, my lord.”

…

The restructuring of Mama City was still underway. Fortunately, the horse breeding program had officially begun, and by next year, hundreds of warhorses would be born.

Leech also took this opportunity to start finding a mate for Rocket.

It was not a simple task. Luckily, experienced stablemasters were on hand to help. After an examination, they confirmed that Rocket, who had grown rapidly thanks to a bloodline herb, was now an adult and could be bred.

When they first heard that Rocket could mate with warhorses to produce new Horse-headed Eagles, the stablemasters had been ecstatic. They wanted to drag Rocket over to every single mare for a go, but between Rocket’s terrifying strength and Leech’s authority, they knew their place and didn’t dare force the issue.

Because there was no second Horse-headed Eagle, the offspring from breeding Rocket with an ordinary warhorse would certainly be somewhat inferior in all aspects.

Using a bloodline herb might awaken the new Horse-headed Eagle’s latent talents, but Leech wasn’t planning on it. In his vision for the future, he would have a full Horse-headed Eagle cavalry. The numbers would be too great, and he didn’t have enough herbs.

He hadn’t mastered the cultivation techniques for bloodline herbs either, meaning that each one he used was truly one less he had.

Besides, rather than focusing on cultivating Horse-headed Eagles, he was more interested in finding more people with ancient bloodlines like the young Dragon-kin, Luca. Leech was fascinated by the idea that the children of two Casters would be born with a natural aptitude for Magic.

No need for study, relying entirely on one’s bloodline—it was a bit like a Mage.

It was just that the scholars of the Lu Leiyi Continent made no clear distinction, lumping everyone who could use Magic under the general term of “Caster.”

‘What I want is to find a bloodline-based Mage, activate their lineage with an herb, and watch them instantly max out their level, just like using an experience book in a game.’

Returning to the great hall of the keep.

The first person he saw was Lisu Muma, the “Desert Pearl.” Her style of dress had reverted to her old one. While not as strikingly beautiful as Cleopatra, the “hot-blooded leopardess” look was still quite a sight to behold.

Especially with the Elf White Deer and Snake-man Nia often dropping by for visits, the three different styles were enough to put anyone in a good mood.

“My lord,” the Desert Pearl said, holding a folded blanket.

Leech raised an eyebrow. ‘Is she going to force herself on me?’

‘Should I accept, or should I accept…?’ His thoughts were a mess until she unfolded the blanket.

“A flag?”

He recognized what the ‘blanket’ actually was: a flag embroidered with a Golden Holy Grail, looking very similar to the one he owned.

It’s worth mentioning here that the Golden Holy Grail had since been handed over to Isis for safekeeping. Vendra had been reassigned to “minesweeper” duty, meaning all dangerous tasks were given to him. Although his Extraordinary power wasn’t particularly potent—it couldn’t help him avoid certain death or increase his strength—it could still help him evade a good deal of trouble.

“Princess Sophia’s family crest,” she said with a nod. “I’ve had people rush to produce a batch. All of Mama City will fly this flag.”

Leech nodded in satisfaction. “Well done. But I recall the Water Buffalo Count uses this flag as well.”

“Yes,” she said, a look of disdain on her delicate face. “Alger is the Water Buffalo Count—the Water Buffalo Count who married Princess Sophia.”

His title of Count came from Princess Sophia, making him equivalent to a man who married into his wife’s family. Even though he was now the lord of Leon City, that fact couldn’t be changed.

It was just that, with the passage of time and after more than a decade of his rule, people had gradually stopped mentioning it.

While previously investigating the Golden Holy Grail, Leech had come across many stories and rumors, including one said to be true.

According to the story, when Princess Sophia was still alive, she would fill the Golden Holy Grail with fine wine to reward warriors who had made outstanding contributions.

It was the highest honor.

After the Water Buffalo Count came to power, he continued this tradition. The Desert Knights took pride in tasting the wine from the Golden Holy Grail—until many years ago, when the Count contracted a strange cystic illness known as an anal fistula.

The disease could be fatal, but the treatment wasn’t difficult: someone had to suck the poison from the cyst. A male servant volunteered for the task of saving the great Count.

To thank the male servant for his outstanding contribution, the Water Buffalo Count took out the Golden Cup, filled it to the brim, and rewarded the servant who had sucked his fistula.

From that day on, it is said, many of the Desert Nobility began to shun that particular honor.