The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?!

Chapter 49 - 49 49 Mad Secret Emissary

49: Chapter 49: Mad Secret Emissary 49: Chapter 49: Mad Secret Emissary The ground, the decrepit and crumbling village strewn with rocks, was littered with corpses.

The burning and twisted bodies curled up in the wailing, mad chant, their charred wounds leaking no blood, but flames from trembling souls converging into streams of crimson serpents.

The blood serpents meandered forward, chasing the figure ahead.

“Snap!”

Underneath the iron boots, flames burst forth the moment the sole contacted the ground, the blood serpents vanished in an instant, clearing an area.

The blood serpents knew no fear, merely blindly following the guidance of life, drawing near to the “Giants” before being extinguished with each step they took as flames erupted.

Lind, carrying the Carrion Queen’s Broken Sword, strode forward, leaving behind twin rows of burning bloody footprints.

He was cautious enough, and with the power within him under Absolute Control, relying on the Broken Sword of the Carrion Queen, and the composure of the Great Knight, he did the best he could.

Yet, as the blood fire fell like a torrential rain, Lind still couldn’t avoid being affected.

A portion of the power inside him had diminished, not much, but enough to unsettle Lind’s heart.

Fortunately, the number of enemies was sparse; other than desperately plunging forward and shouting “Favor of the First Fire” before hurling their burning implements at Lind, they could do nothing.

The villagers couldn’t derive more strength from the god they worshipped; if not for the genuinely troublesome blood-red flames, they likely wouldn’t even have the chance to make Lind wield his Broken Sword.

The Broken Sword extinguished the frenzied bonfire, leaving only some villagers with broken legs in the village of the Mad Wise Ones, struggling to survive, trembling whenever Lind approached.

Not every Mad Wise One had lost their senses; fortunately, some still knew what fear meant.

But it couldn’t be ruled out that some villagers were more cunning; however, Lind didn’t care.

“My lord,” Ace Aimu approached Lind, only through firsthand experience on the battlefield could one feel the surge, his blood boiling with excitement.

If a Bard were here, they would certainly turn this into a hymn.

But if spoken in the special language of the Undead, this feeling would probably be expressed in just two words: “Fuck!”.

“They worship some Evil God, might be from before the birth of the Ring of Magic, or perhaps after the Ring of Magic shattered,” Lind immediately assigned Ace Aimu a task, “

Lind planned to arrange for the Undead to come and farm the land, so he still had to go back and post a quest.

He had just walked a few steps when he stopped, turning his head to look behind him.

Ace Aimu, looking charming, sensed “there was a plot unfolding” and also stopped.

“Damn!” He saw a small villager and was startled, instinctively wanting to swing a sword, but Lind held him back.

The Carrion Queen’s Broken Sword fell to the ground, the barren soil trembling.

“Who are you?” he sensed that the other party seemed to want to follow him.

The small figure took off the black robe, revealing a face gaunt of cheeks—a boy about eleven or twelve years old.

“I, I am Renzo,” his voice was hoarse.

“May I ask, are you a Noble, sir?”

He used a kneeling ritual from the period of prosperous civilization, the etiquette required when a commoner was formally summoned by a Noble.

It was impossible for ordinary people to mimic because there was specialized closed training by a Court Lady before they needed to use this etiquette.

The positioning of fingers, the extent of movement, and even where one’s eyes should look had to meet certain standards.

Before the actual start, there would also be dozens of “dress rehearsals.”

Even Lind from before his time travel had rarely seen such rituals.

This ritual had extreme demands for seeing a commoner; they had to make notable contributions, similar to the Earth’s Prime Minister or President publicly meeting ordinary people.

Its political significance was beyond imagination, representing to some extent the absolute political inclination within a Noble’s own territory.

Lind had only seen the Prince, who he used to hang around with back then, meet a few civilian representatives to vie for more authority.

So when the young boy suddenly used the kneeling ritual, Lind immediately corrected his attitude.

Fortunately, the reception ritual had no constraints on Nobles, after all, Nobles were the rule makers.

All he had to do was declare his identity.

“I, Lind Armand, Noble of Royal City Goliath, son of Baron Armand, Lord of Star Dragon Ridge…” Lind responded with the haughtiness of a Noble.

A Noble’s response must be haughty, as that was also what the boy before him using the kneeling ritual expected.

Unfortunately, there was no attendant officer by his side; otherwise, someone would have helped declare his noble titles.

Lind paused slightly before saying, “…with Noble Blood truly flowing in my veins!”

“Thump!” The boy knocked his head on the ground, “I, I…

please let me pledge loyalty to you!”

“Why should I accept your loyalty?” Lind shook his head.

Although he was a “poor” Noble and his surname had lost the power that came from the Ring of Magic, it did not mean that he should accept people from a village of Mad Wise Ones.

Just because the other person understood the “kneeling ritual”?

Indeed, on the distant frontiers, perhaps even Ronin from Prey Town didn’t understand what a kneeling ritual was.

All the protocols weren’t as important as a piece of wheat bran bread.

“I have completed the Noble lord’s command,” Renzo lifted his head, his face showing plea and expectation.

“Since you are a Noble of Goliath, you must know, I have completed it, completed it, so, I can pledge loyalty to you, to a Noble!”

Poor boy, the Old Nobility were almost extinct; now was the era of the New Nobility.

“What have you completed?” Lind asked casually.

Renzo kept his kneeling position, his palms facing up in a “holding” gesture, slowly advancing them forward.

Then.

“Boom—!” Red flames gathered in his palms.

These flames were stronger than any Lind had encountered among villagers before, or rather, they weren’t in the same league at all.

The person before him should have been very weak, but when he held up the blood-red flames, Lind felt a pressure brewing within him.

Creating pressure capable of affecting a Great Knight, the other must also be of “Great Knight” level.

From a player’s perspective, Renzo was likely above level ten, and possibly even at boss level.

Renzo: “I have completed my service to the Dianmi Overlord, control over the Mad Fire!”