Chapter 179: The Dark Elf Lady Knight
“Lady Baltha.”
The Mother of Beasts spoke in a voice reminiscent of a gentle and elegant noble lady from Barth, both in tone and appearance. Her wavy, thick golden hair cascaded down her porcelain-white cheeks, covering her chest, while her sea-like blue eyes radiated warmth.
Her eyebrows slightly drooped, and seeing her would always evoke thoughts of a loving mother.
However, this feeling was confined to her upper body, which appeared plump and creamy. From her abdomen down, her body abruptly transformed into a massive lump of white flesh, reminiscent of a bloated queen ant, nearly four meters long, enough to fill a small room.
Thus, the tall, strong, and mature lady knight, the dark elf Baltha, could only reluctantly lift her head and converse with the Mother of Beasts.
The Mother of Beasts looked down at Baltha and continued, “You dark elves know that without enough strength, things that cannot be taken by violence and blood cannot be retrieved by mere words.”
“I should slit your throat and the throats of your horned beast offspring, offering you to Cain.”
Baltha spoke haughtily, her wavy red hair falling over her purple-black shoulder armor. “And whip the long-horned ones and use them to plow the fields.”
“You dark elves are truly rude.” The Mother of Beasts smiled gently, like a mother tolerating a rebellious daughter. “I’ve heard that in your dark elf families, there is no affection. I wouldn’t mind taking you as my daughter.”
“On our slave ship,” Baltha ignored the bull-headed beastmen glaring at her surrounding the Mother of Beasts, “you could be a cow, nursing the slaves. If you’re clever enough, quickly return the Demon King’s extraordinary substance to us.”
The bull-headed beast snorted angrily, its strong hands gripping a heavy weapon. Stepping forward, its shadow fell upon Baltha’s mature face. This giant bull was taller than one and a half Balthas.
Baltha showed no fear, drawing her knight’s sword. The craftsmanship of the dark elves was evident, the blade gleaming with a faint green sheen, runes emitting a purple glow. The dark elves behind her likewise drew their weapons, their crossbows aimed at the surrounding beastmen.
The beastmen roared, stomping their hooves and pointing their weapons at the line of dark elves, gradually closing in.
“Hold on.” The Mother of Beasts held a crow-feather staff in one hand, gently stroking the giant bull’s forehead with the other. “Calm down, my children. If a fight breaks out, only that group of humans will laugh.”
The Mother of Beasts’s hand appeared tiny compared to the massive bull, but the enormous bull calmed down, as did the beastmen surrounding her.
Baltha thought again that the Mother of Beasts appeared out of place among the beastmen, perfectly fitting the description of beauty among beasts, even if her lower half was a huge mass of white flesh covered in fur.
After calming the beasts, the Mother of Beasts adopted a somewhat stern tone:
“Lady Baltha, you cannot escape the cruel Gregory. He will use sadistic flames to shatter once again your hopes of delivering the Demon King’s extraordinary substance.”
“I am not like that former useless one.”
Baltha contemptuously glanced at her predecessor, who lay on the ground, tightly bound by ropes that constrained the arms of the sorceress, like a pig awaiting slaughter.
This dark elf sorceress had half of her face scarred with brown-yellow burn marks, a price paid for fleeing after battling the High Priest Gregory.
In addition, her large areas of exposed white skin were covered with whip marks, inflicted by Baltha herself for punishment upon her arrival.
Thinking of her predecessor’s ineptitude, Baltha kicked the dark elf sorceress in the thigh.
The sorceress shivered, unsure whether from pain or from the chill of her scant attire—sorceresses typically donned clothing barely better than undergarments, flaunting their skin and their mastery of dark magic to withstand the cold.
Even Baltha, as a lady knight, was no exception; though armored tightly, she left as much skin exposed as possible. For instance, her thigh armor was half-covered, steel in front with her bare thighs behind.
“You need to prove you are not useless.” The Mother of Beasts said, “Those knights are leading an army to slaughter my offspring, and one group of knights is continuously ambushing our strong ones in the wilderness, among them a succubus; bring back her horn to prove yourself.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Baltha scoffed. “The succubus you mentioned is the lover of Dragon-slaying George, right? If she is amidst those killing your beasts, it implies George is there too, along with a useless one named Asul who can’t even shoot an arrow. That’s quite a conundrum, just like Gregory.”
“You just want us to fight each other, then swallow the extraordinary substance for yourself, don’t you?”
The Mother of Beasts replied:
“I only need you to shed the blood of the succubus Jima. She can locate the Demon King’s extraordinary substance. Even I cannot interfere, and your predecessor was similarly locked on by Gregory.”
“If you can’t do even this, the extraordinary substance in your hands is equivalent to delivering it to the Sanctuary.”
Baltha hesitated.
“Take this; it will prevent the succubus from moving for a while.” The Mother of Beasts tossed a small dreamcatcher, which Baltha caught. “When you use it, I will sense it and curse the succubus. My children will also assist you. Go, my strongest son.”
The giant bull beside the Mother of Beasts puffed out its chest happily, its fur a shade of brown with a deep scar across its face.
Baltha said, “Don’t slow me down.”
“Talk back again,” the yellow-haired bull said, “and I’ll rip your thigh off.”
Baltha retorted, “I haven’t had a bull-headed slave pet in a while.”
After exchanging a few barbs, Baltha did not chase away the beastmen.
Despite her deep-seated disdain for these smelly beasts, this was their territory, and she needed their support.
Let those fools go to their deaths.
Baltha thought to herself.
As she led her subordinates away to capture a certain succubus’s horn, the Mother of Beasts’s rosy face grew even rosier. She lifted her chin, closed her eyes, and her wavy golden hair quivered. The tail portion of her ant-like lower body slightly arched, giving birth to a creature curled up in the placenta, a second one following closely behind.
Baltha stared in astonishment.
The Mother of Beasts gently cradled what seemed to be an eight-year-old beastman infant and parted her golden hair at the chest. The “baby” buried its head in her bosom, visibly growing at an astonishing rate, hair and horns sprouting gradually.
A smile appeared on the rosy face of the Mother of Beasts.
Baltha felt nauseated as she turned to leave, when the gentle voice of the Mother of Beasts rang out.
“Wait, Lady Baltha, you haven’t paid your dues.”
“Dues?” Baltha simultaneously realized that the beastmen surrounding them did not step aside.
The bloated lower body of the Mother of Beasts seemed significantly smaller as she gazed with deep maternal love at the proud Baltha, saying, “I truly wish I could raise a daughter like you.”
The hair on Baltha’s neck stood up, frowning as she instructed her subordinates, “Hey, put that useless one down.”
Her subordinate complied, placing the whip-scarred sorceress on the ground, where she nearly regained consciousness.
The Mother of Beasts raised her crow-feather staff.
Only then did the beastmen step aside.
Baltha said, “Let’s go.”
The sorceress looked at the departing figures of her kin, wriggling her body and shouting, “Don’t leave me behind! I’m useful to you! I can do magic!”
None of the dark elves slowed their pace.
The sound of approaching footsteps could be heard as the Mother of Beasts’s voice echoed, “Poor child, I will take good care of you.”
“Don’t do this!”
“Stay away from me!”
“Please!”
“No!!”
Voices filled with terror spurred from behind Baltha. Along with a swallowing sound as if a python were devouring its prey, the sorceress’s voice gradually faded away.
Baltha did not look back, but she felt happy, relieved that she did not have to keep a failure for the sake of a mission.
…
…
During the day.
A few Barth farmers shivered in their cages, resembling chickens in a coop during the New Year.
A horned beast leaned against a grotesquely shaped tree, munching on a fresh leg, beside it hanging a mangled piece of “food.”
“Moo… Curly, you’re eating meat again.” Another horned beast approached.
“The digging humans are tougher,” Curly responded, biting off a large chunk of flesh from the leg. “Tastes good.”
“If you steal again, the chief will chop off your head.”
Curly set down the leg and said, “Baa~~ You come too, eat up, no one will know.”
The horned beast walked over, picked up an axe, and without hesitation chopped off a large piece of meat hanging from the tree.
At that moment, a dirt-covered farmer in the cage could no longer restrain himself and let out a hysterical scream.
The two feasting beastmen turned to look.
The other farmers quickly reached out to hold him down, covering his mouth to suppress any sound.
“Baa… I really don’t understand,” Curly said. “Why not just eat as before, could have fed it to the war hounds too.”
“Moo moo… the chief said, the Mother of Beasts wants humans; maybe as offerings to the gods.”
“If she asks for too many, the gods might get stuffed,” Curly complained, biting through a bone while eyeing the old farmer’s skinny leg.
The gaze was so blatant, so hot, that the farmers had to cover another would-be screamer’s mouth.
Curly tossed aside the bone and walked towards the cage, saying, “I see someone is going to die; eating the dead isn’t a problem, baa.”
The farmers in the cage struggled to distance themselves from him, crowding into a corner. The previously hysterical farmer rolled his eyes up as Curly approached and fainted.
Curly happily said, “Good baa, dead.”
He bent down to open the cage.
At that moment, an exotic fragrance wafted into his nose, the smell of food, so delicious that Curly was willing to give up the leg before him.
He stood up and saw a roasted leg of lamb hanging from a tree not far away; the fragrant aroma wafted from there.
“Baa!” Curly fumed.
