Chapter 259: The Founding Ceremony (2)

Just as the crowd craned their necks toward the dim archway of the city gates, a magically amplified voice rang out.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Look over here!"

The crowd turned toward the sound. A high platform shaped by earth magic had silently appeared beside the road. A gnoll stood atop it, towering over the nearby houses.

"Hello, everyone! I am your loyal friend, the gnoll—Fanko Stoneclaw."

Seeing he had successfully drawn everyone's attention, the gnoll continued.

"I will be your announcer for the upcoming military parade."

"We all know the combat prowess of the White Castle Army is extraordinarily formidable. Over the past few decades, Murlocs have ridden their war beasts across the oceans to sweep through the Overseas Archipelago. Ogres and gnolls supported our allies during the demon disaster. Any enemy who dared to face White Castle head-on was turned to ash beneath the fury of our forces."

"Yes, we all know that White Castle's army is invincible."

The gnoll shifted his tone.

"But just how strong is the White Castle Army? I believe only our beloved master and the lords on the platform truly know."

The gnoll looked toward the White Dragon in Kingdom Square. The crowd followed his gaze to those lofty figures, their eyes filled with awe.

"To help us clearly understand just how powerful our Guardians are, our respected master has organized today's military parade. From today onward, we will know exactly how magnificent the force protecting us truly is!"

The gnoll raised his voice.

"Now, let us turn our eyes to the city gates. First to appear are the Ogres!"

While the gnoll was speaking, the army outside had already arrived at the gates.

Hearing the gnoll's voice, the Ogre troops waiting in the archway pulled down their visors. They formed a four-by-four phalanx and marched out of the shadows in perfect unison.

As the Ogres stepped out of the archway's shadows, the crowd gasped at their true appearance.

These five-meter-tall, tower-like brutes were entirely encased in thick black armor. Their cold, beast-like masks betrayed zero emotion. Over their shoulders, they carried hideous five-meter-long Spiked Clubs. The thick heads of the Spiked Clubs bristled with spikes, and the ends of their smooth handles were capped with sharp Triangular Armor-Piercing Spikes.

The Ogres' synchronized footsteps slammed onto Royal Capital Avenue. The screech of steel grinding against steel as their armor shifted made the onlookers' scalps tingle. Their thunderous footfalls caused the ground to tremble beneath the people lining the street, kicking up rings of dust. A dangerous, feral aura washed over the crowd, filling everyone with sudden tension.

Suddenly, someone felt something strike the top of their head.

"Huh? Is it raining?"

The crowd looked up at the sky.

It was indeed raining, but what fell was not water—it was red flower petals.

While the crowd's attention had been fixed on the Ogres, Harpies clutching baskets had flown out from the buildings lining Royal Capital Avenue. They danced through the sky, scattering a romantic rain of red petals.

The vibrant petals washed away the tension gripping the crowd. The gnoll announcer's voice rang out at the perfect moment.

"Ogres are an ancient race! Long, long ago, they already lived on this vast land. They are strong, barbaric, and have a very diverse diet—just as their name suggests, they are Ogres!"

"That's right! As you all know, Ogres are a man-eating race."

The crowd's hearts tightened, but the gnoll immediately changed his tone.

"That is, until our great master brought civilization! Our king not only brought us peace and unity, but also an abundant material life. We no longer kill just to survive, and we have abandoned our old savage customs."

"We no longer fear these hulking giants. On the contrary, we respect them, because they are our Guardians!"

"Tell me, am I right?!"

The gnoll raised his arms and shouted from the platform, and a massive cheer of agreement erupted from the crowd.

Outsiders were in the minority; the vast majority of the audience were citizens of the Overseas Archipelago.

Hideous weapons held by an enemy naturally struck fear into people's hearts. But when those same weapons were held by their own soldiers, they provided a deep sense of security. The lingering dread vanished, replaced entirely by excitement and joy.

Amid the rain of petals and roaring cheers, the Ogres reached the middle of Royal Capital Avenue. Following their leader, they stomped their feet in perfect unison, bringing the entire phalanx to an abrupt halt.

Knowing the parade's routine in advance, the gnoll excitedly shouted out.

"Why doesn't everyone take a guess—just how heavy is the armor worn by our loyal guards?"

"A thousand pounds?! A thousand five hundred pounds?! No! It is two thousand five hundred pounds!"

"That's right! Two thousand five hundred pounds!"

"If I put on armor that heavy, forget about fighting—I'd thank the heavens if it didn't crush me to death."

The gnoll gestured to his own scrawny frame, drawing a wave of good-natured laughter from the crowd.

However, some people quietly muttered to themselves. The average weight of an Ogre was only a thousand pounds. Even if these specific giants were exceptionally tall and weighed fifteen hundred pounds, they shouldn't be able to wear armor that outweighed their own bodies by more than half.

At that moment, the Ogres leaned forward, assuming a charging posture.

"But! Look at them! What are they doing?! Is this posture for a charge?! My god! They are over two thousand meters away from Kingdom Square! And wearing such heavy armor...!"

Sure enough, as soon as the gnoll finished speaking, the Ogres charged. Their indomitable momentum and thick steel plating made them look like raging steel rhinos. Their charge kicked up a howling gale, violently carving a hollow tunnel through the rain of falling petals.

The fierce winds generated by their charge battered the crowd's faces like a gale. As the onlookers stared in dumbfounded shock, the Ogres charged all the way to the edge of Kingdom Square before instantly transitioning from full motion to absolute stillness. They stood ramrod straight in the square and swung their Spiked Clubs toward the sky.

"Haaah!"

With furious roars from the Ogres, sixteen transparent qi slashes tore into the sky, rocketing a hundred meters into the air before finally dissipating.

The guests watching from the viewing platform naturally had much sharper eyes than ordinary people. Seeing this, their pupils shrank. These sixteen Ogres were actually all Master Tier powerhouses! Not just their combat power—their actual Warrior level had reached the Master Tier.

Moreover, these sixteen Master Tier powerhouses had maintained a flawless formation during their sprint. Even their footfalls had been perfectly synchronized.

This proved that these sixteen Master Tier powerhouses were highly proficient in battle formations and understood seamless cooperation. It also meant they were professional soldiers raised under the exact same training regimen, rather than "wild" Master Tier experts dragged in just to put on a show.

There was no shortage of legendary powerhouses among the VIP guests. They silently asked themselves: if they were surrounded by sixteen Master Tier Ogres who understood combined attack techniques, what were their chances of survival? The answer was less than thirty percent.

Of course, under normal circumstances, they would never give these sixteen Ogres the chance to surround them in the first place. If you couldn't win, you ran.

Now, the guests on the platform actually began to look forward to the rest of the military parade.

Originally, many of them had only come to go through the motions and give the newly appointed councilor some face.

Because White Castle had been established for less than eighty years. In its early days, it had mostly turtled up in the old White Castle on Tasman Island; it was only in the past decade that it had conquered the Three Main Islands and unified the Overseas Archipelago.

After all, most kingdoms on the mainland had existed for thousands of years.

The foundation of a nation—its professionals—required time to accumulate. Anything below the Master Tier was simple enough; as long as you were willing to spend gold, you could pile up resources and buy your way to creating High Tier professionals. But Master Tier professionals were legendary reserves. They had already begun to touch upon the understanding of rules—something that couldn't be bought with any amount of resources.

Monster chieftains like Gurgalu could be chalked up to natural genius, but in terms of conventional combat power, how much foundation could a newborn faction like White Castle possibly possess?

Therefore, the crowd had inevitably held some quiet contempt for this fledgling kingdom. However, reality had just delivered a stinging slap to their faces.

The White Dragon Lord gazed down at the sixteen Master Tier Ogres, feeling a deep sense of gratification. Ever since the Skull-Crusher Ogres had sworn allegiance, the White Dragon Lord had treated them as his core troops. He had used his Gold Finger to deduce the most suitable training methods for them and had poured massive amounts of resources into their growth.

As a result, the Ogres of the Overseas Archipelago had received the most optimal training from a young age, building incredibly solid foundations. That was why these Master Tier Ogres had emerged so quickly.

In truth, White Castle had far more Master Tier Ogres than just the ones on display. There were twenty-one trained to official military standards, and counting the "wild" Master Tiers they had encountered during their conquest, the total exceeded thirty.

But just as the guests' earlier contempt suggested, because it had been established so recently, White Castle did indeed lack a truly deep foundation. All of these Master Tier Ogres had only recently stepped into the Master Tier. The strongest leader among them was only a Level 17 Warrior.

As for Legendary Rank Level Ogres, there wasn't a single one. Thinking of this, the White Dragon Lord glanced at Gurgalu. Gurgalu had already stepped into the Half-Step Legendary Rank more than ten years ago. Given the innate talent of a two-headed ogre, his breakthrough should be soon.

Down in the square, the sixteen Master Tier powerhouses finished their display and dropped to one knee, saluting the White Dragon Lord on the platform. They then split into two two-by-four phalanxes and marched off to either side.

Only after the Master Tier Ogres departed did the audience finally recover from their shock, and the square immediately exploded into an uproar.

"Such long qi slashes! They were actually all Master-Tier Warriors?! My god!"

"Did you feel that? When they charged, even though there were only sixteen of them, I felt like I was staring down an army of thousands!"

"I thought that gnoll was just blowing hot air! But if they're Master-Tier Ogre Warriors, they really can bear two thousand five hundred pounds of armor!"

"..."

The audience wasn't given much time to discuss before the gnoll's voice rang out again.

"Everyone! Everyone! Were you frightened by those towering Ogres?! Well, next up, let's take a look at a petite race!"

"The next race to take the stage is—"

The gnoll dragged out his tone, refusing to announce the result. Just as the audience was about ready to beat him up, he finally shouted the answer.

"Murlocs!"

"Fuck!"

A mercenary-clad man bragged to the fiery female mercenary beside him.

"If that guy had waited one second longer to say it, I would've rushed up there and punched him."

Another male mercenary nearby teased him.

"Is that so, Luke? I'd love to see how you plan to get past those soldiers blocking the way."

Exposed by his companion, the man who had threatened to punch the gnoll hurriedly changed the subject.

"Look, the Murloc troops are here."

Inside the city gate's archway, a massive contingent of Murlocs formed a twelve-by-twenty-four phalanx, marching out with the same perfectly synchronized steps.

Unlike the single-unit Ogre troops, the Murloc phalanx was made up of several different professionals.

Marching at the very front were the Fishman Shield Guards. Gripping Turtle-Shell Shields in one hand and Fish-Bone Knives in the other, they rhythmically beat their bone knives against their shields as they walked.

As Murlocs were the most populous race in the Overseas Archipelago, the military parade naturally couldn't leave them out.

As for why they used primitive equipment like Turtle-Shell Shields and Fish-Bone Knives...

In truth, the White Dragon Lord had originally planned to equip them with steel swords and shields. However, the nightstalkers' leader, Bucky Darkscale, suggested that the Murlocs' racial talent could never match up to powerhouses like the Ogres. Wielding steel swords and shields wouldn't be nearly as intimidating as the former. It was better to use traditional Murloc weapons—at least they had their own unique characteristics.

With Old Blind and Old Jimmy in retirement, Bucky Darkscale was the highest leader of the Murlocs. Since the race's top leader had said so, and his reasoning was sound, the White Dragon Lord had agreed. Thus, the current scene came to be.

"Marching at the front is the Fishman Shield Guard phalanx! These fearless warriors always charge at the very frontlines of the battlefield, protecting the comrades behind them. They are the warriors with the greatest spirit of sacrifice!"

"Wala-gala-gala!"

The Shield Guards hoisted their shields and bone knives high, roaring in response to the gnoll announcer.

"Following right behind the Shield Guards are the Fishman Nightstalker troops!"

Behind the twelve-by-six block of Fishman Shield Guards were the Fishman Nightstalkers. These black-scaled Murlocs possessed an incredibly low presence. If the gnoll announcer hadn't mentioned them, the crowd would have subconsciously overlooked them entirely.

"Fishman Nightstalkers are the assassins of the Murlocs! The daggers they thrust from the shadows are the enemy's worst nightmare!"

On cue, the Fishman Nightstalkers raised both hands. Fishbone Daggers seemingly materialized out of thin air, spinning rapidly through their fingers before being immediately stowed away. No one knew where they had hidden these daggers.

The spectating mercenaries' expressions gradually grew solemn. They might not think much of the Fishman Shield Guards, since a human of the same professional level could comfortably single out three Murlocs.

But just as the gnoll had said, if the Murlocs launched a sneak attack from the shadows, the human racial advantage would be drastically weakened. The result of being stabbed in the heart by a Murloc was exactly the same as being stabbed by any other race.

"Marching behind the nightstalkers are the Murloc Tidehunters! The Murloc Tidehunters are the hunters among the Murlocs! I'm sure everyone's attention has already been captured by the massive Bronze-Backed Alligator Turtles behind them!"

"That's right! Murloc Tidehunters are master beast-tamers. Not only can they train medium-sized creatures like the Bronze-Backed Alligator Turtles, but they can also tame massive creatures like eight-meter-long megalodons and ten-meter-long deep-sea giant octopuses!"

"If you ever make an enemy of a Murloc Tidehunter out on the ocean, you'd better prepare your will! Who knows, after killing you, the Tide Hunter might mercifully deliver your will to the shore."

The Tide Hunters commanded the Bronze-Backed Alligator Turtles to blast a volley of water arrows into the sky.

"Following the Murloc Tidehunters are the Fishman Tidecallers! Seeing the staves in their hands, everyone should understand that they are the Mages among the Murlocs. Just as their name implies, they possess a special talent to summon ocean waves to destroy their enemies!"

The lord mages remained coldly aloof, offering no response as they carried their staves past the crowd, because the very identity of a Mage was an intimidation in itself.