But could they really refuse? That way, Hayden Wolf wouldn't need to kill them himself; he could simply drive them all out of the mountain city's barrier, and the Windrider Tribe refugees would naturally die outside. Even if they could barely withstand the storm, they wouldn't find food for tomorrow in the storm-ravaged wilderness.
They could only accept, with tears in their eyes, the fact that they would forever be subjugated under the claws of the White Wolf God of the King Kong Tribe.
...We all know that's not actually the case; rather, they will inevitably be forever subservient to Angela. But that's a matter for the future.
They will one day realize that what they have lost is only their shackles, but what they have gained is something greater than the world.
Hayden wasn't worried they'd cause trouble. Although Angela had to sing every day and couldn't attend to anything else, Hayden wasn't useless. On this mountain, in this city, within the life cycle Angela had created, Hayden, now a local deity, was quite powerful.
"Finally, I have one more question. Do you still have a way to contact your homeland? Perhaps I can talk to that devil and ask for the release of your captured and detained compatriots."
That's why Hayden asked that question at the end.
However, upon hearing Hayden's words, both the people of the Windrider Tribe and Chief Vajra suddenly changed their expressions and even began to stir.
Hayden then realized something was wrong: "What's wrong?"
The two tribes of demi-humans looked at each other for a while before Chief Kong finally spoke, saying, "Great wolf, no prisoners are spared in the mouths of demons."
……ah?
"If tribes fight and compete normally, and one tribe wins, it will not kill all the women and children of the defeated tribe."
Chief King Kong continued to explain,
"Women and children from defeated tribes are often spared, because even the source of bloodlines is a vital resource on this barren land. If members of the same tribe keep having children with each other, causing the bloodline concentration to be too high, the children born will have a hard time surviving. We always have to exchange bloodlines with other tribes."
So, these demi-humans do have some knowledge of eugenics after all?
Hayden was somewhat surprised. However, Chief Kong hadn't finished speaking.
"But demons and humans are different, great wolf. Demons never care about these things."
His tone became noticeably heavy as he said those words.
"Demons do not establish tribes, nor do they create order. Great wolves. They are demons, only capable of destruction and plunder, not of building for tomorrow."
……Alas?
Admittedly, this statement was somewhat unexpected for Hayden.
"You mean..."
He frowned and said, "...The remaining people of the Windrider Tribe may have been wiped out by the demon and its minions?"
"It might not be that fast," Chief King Kong hesitated before answering, "but they will probably be killed and eaten in a short time."
Uh, but weren't you eating people a month ago too?
Hayden rubbed his chin with his wolf paw, feeling somewhat embarrassed.
But since the demi-people had spoken up, Hayden couldn't pretend he hadn't heard them, so he nodded to show his understanding. Finally, the elders of the Windrider tribe taught Hayden a special secret technique—a unique magic they had passed down since ancient times, using the wind to transmit messages and let them travel far away with the wind.
Frankly, in modern times with the Astral Network, this kind of communication spell is hardly necessary. However, Hayden still quite likes these strange little spells, especially those that manipulate the wind. Besides, this kind of communication spell shouldn't be eavesdropped on by Astral Network technology, and it might come in handy in the future.
After Chief King Kong led the Windrider Tribe away and began arranging their lives, Hayden transformed back into human form, found a tree to lean against, and sat down to reconsider the issue of demons.
Seriously speaking, what should he do now?
Although the demi-humans of both tribes spoke of the demons in great detail, as if the other was simply an abnormal monster whose purpose was to plunder and kill, if Hayden had taken their words as fact without question, he would have made no progress for more than a year.
However, on the other hand, if Hayden completely disregards what the demi-people say, then he is foolish in another way.
Trust is essential, but verification is also necessary.
"Seeing is believing. It's definitely best to take a look first."
The answer won't fall from the sky; ultimately, people can only find the real answer through their own efforts.
With no one else in the way, Hayden stroked his chin, preparing to find an open space to cast his spell.
The elder of the Windrider tribe had just taught him a unique spell that used the wind to transmit messages. Hayden, who was particularly adept at tinkering with and modifying other people's magic, quickly thought that perhaps he could modify the spell's structure to add the ability to see distant scenes through the wind. After all, aren't sound and images essentially both messages?
This was actually not that simple. But Hayden was indeed good at this kind of thing. After spending several hours, he finally managed to get the "Flying Eyes - Beta Version" working.
Ta-da! New spell!
The field of magic is so vast. Even if Hayden dedicated his entire life to it, he would only have scooped a cup of water from the ocean of knowledge. That being said, Hayden was always particularly happy whenever he learned or invented a new spell.
So he quickly found a pond on the mountain that had been purified, and with the crystal-clear water—the water on the mountain now flowed continuously from the ditch around the apple trees—he hurriedly began to cast the new spell he had just created.
Unlike his previous remote observations through ley lines, this time Hayden sent out a gust of wind. He attached his senses to this wind, following its flow beyond the city's barrier, towards the homeland of the Windrider tribe.
He wanted to see for himself the condition of that great demon.
————————————————————————————
The home of the Wind Chaser tribe is a small valley facing the sea.
This place was once a small, almost idyllic paradise. It also faced environmental pollution, but it was still much better than the outside world. It also had to worry about war and disasters from outside, but at least it was generally peaceful.
Unfortunately, this era does not allow anyone to lie low. The utopia that had escaped modern society eventually met its end.
"Ugh, today was really unpleasant."
A robust young man wearing sunglasses sat on the precious carpet that once belonged to Chief Windrider, his left hand supporting his chin as he muttered to himself. For some reason, his fingers and hands were adorned with numerous silver ornaments, and even his neck was wrapped with a silver necklace shaped like a snake.
His right hand was holding the severed head of the Wind-Riding Chieftain.
The head had its white eyes rolled back halfway, and its mouth was also half-open in a daze. Although the skin was pale, it was not decayed, and there was not even a sign of rotting. The severed neck still revealed bright red flesh, as if it were about to drip blood at any moment. It was as if the head had just been twisted off, which was really unbelievable.
Not only that, his mouth—was still wailing. Wailing like a living person.
In fact, if you look around carefully, you'll find that the singing in this large room that once belonged to the chief wasn't just his own head. There were about a dozen demi-human heads that had been twisted off or chopped off, each one as fresh as the chief's head, without a trace of decay, and each mouth opening and closing, emitting different wails and roars.
Strangely enough, even horrifyingly, and for some unknown reason—these severed heads emitted various different wails, which, when pieced together, somehow formed a melody that could barely be considered similar to the "Wedding March."
What the hell are they doing?!
"After slaughtering this entire tribe, we managed to gather fifteen people who were barely usable. Their wailing tones were enough to barely form the beginning of a melody."
The young man spat on the ground, muttered a few curses, then sighed and turned to look out the window.
Four demi-human henchmen and fanatics who followed him were playing happily. They held spears, with a two- or three-year-old baby impaled on the spearhead. They were figuring out how many times they could pierce the baby without killing him. The baby was impaled on the spear, not yet dead, still emitting faint cries, but no one came to his rescue.
Because everyone else in the Wind-Riding Tribe had already been impaled.
Men, women, young and old—without exception, wooden stakes were driven into their buttocks and out of their mouths, causing blood to gush from every hole in their bodies. These corpses, one after another, were linked together in a comical manner, forming a sight that would be utterly absurd to the demons.
These days are truly difficult, unlike the luxuries of the past. Centuries ago, the great demon could select the heads from those he slaughtered, choosing those with particularly unique wails to form a mound of skulls, like a large chorus, to create a "beautiful" melody and sing triumphant songs for himself. But today, he can't even muster a mere band of heads.
Although he had to fight with the Old Gods for thousands of years and was occasionally hunted by them, he obviously lived a much happier life.
And now? The new gods don't even bother hunting him anymore. He's now being chased around by the new gods' giant vacuum cleaners. His current attire is utterly unbecoming of a great demon. Even his beloved paladin hearts and livers are no longer available in this era.
"damn it."
These days, even demons are having a tough time.
133: Haze obscures the sun, turbid air billows.
What the hell is this?
Hayden used his hastily concocted clairvoyance spell, using the wind to transmit messages from afar. He divided his mind, keeping one eye on the inside and the other on the outside, to observe the current state of the Wind-Riding Tribe. However, he never expected to see such a tragic scene.
The three or four hundred Wind Riders who should have stayed here have almost all been killed.
The beautiful terracotta brick buildings that the Yufeng tribe once spent a century building are now completely contaminated by filth, decay, and corpses. The remains of the dead are scattered all over the ground.
On the contrary, a small group of foreign demi-human raiders seemed to have just finished a feast and looked very satisfied.
They had been following the demon for some time, and while they had only been getting skinny prey, the demon found a valley near the Windrider tribe by the sea and a large enough supply of fresh prey. The fact that the food they had plundered from the Windrider tribe even included wine greatly excited the group of demi-humans.
This was a free-spirited feast—though they were never truly free-spirited to begin with. The drunken demi-human raiders, with their foolish yet venomous minds, devised one cruel game after another.
For example, putting several live people in an iron cage, then throwing them over a campfire to roast them, watching them scream and struggle until they are cooked. This is just a common form of entertainment.
For example, impaling prisoners on iron spikes and pulling them together... I feel like this book is going to be dangerous if I keep going, so let's stop here. Let's talk about something more normal.
They tore apart the clothes they had stolen and crudely pieced them together into a motley collection of tattered garments. Holding drums made of bones and leather, they beat strange rhythms to entertain themselves.
These demi-humans are fundamentally different from legitimate tribes like the Vajra Tribe and the Wind-Riding Tribe. They are bandits, criminals, and outcasts, banished from their original tribes or whose original tribes have been destroyed. They can only form dangerous gangs to roam the roads and wilderness in search of prey, attacking unsuspecting travelers, transport teams, and their most desired targets—demi-humans from other tribes.
They are not a tribe, because they are not a unified entity, nor are they a family. What are they...? Perhaps they are even less than city gangs, because even organized crime must adhere to a code of brotherhood and rules, otherwise they cannot function properly.
These exiled, wandering demons and monsters had lost even the most basic sense of order. That's why they surrendered everything to the Great Demon, submitting to his leadership. All they needed to do was happily plunder food, wine, women, weapons, and equipment.
With the great demon in charge, they were able to enjoy these things, and a sense of pride even shone on their faces because of it.
Hayden peered at these things from afar through a gust of wind, feeling both angry and cold inside.
Needless to say, Hayden was not a cold-hearted person to begin with, and any normal person would be furious at the sight of such a scene.
As for the feeling of coldness in his heart, it was because he gained some insight from watching this scene.
The so-called "subhumans" are mostly people whose ancestors failed to compete in the city, succumbed to the cutthroat competition, and ultimately chose to escape modern society to survive on barren lands. To put it bluntly, they are the primitive humans whose descendants degenerated after modern people gave up.
However, in an overly cruel and fiercely competitive society, those who choose to give up always end up in an even worse place. Even if their ancestors tried to escape modern society and survive independently, these descendants can still degenerate into an even worse state. Demi-humans are already primitive humans who have degenerated from modern humans, yet they still have room to degenerate and degenerate further.
These demi-human raiders before me are all human. They are not monsters, but humans, mortals who have fallen to the most ridiculous and pathetic state possible in an era and society of hell on earth—utterly selfish, vicious, and ignorant.
To survive on the increasingly barren and inhospitable land, these people fought each other for the remaining land and resources. How much blood did they shed to stay alive? To survive, they chose to plunder their own kind. But when all their kind were dead, what was left to plunder?
Whose fault and responsibility is it that the world has become what it is today?
In any case, simply blaming these things won't do any good. The world won't improve in the slightest.
Hayden shook his head, shifting his gaze away from his wandering consciousness. These demi-human raiders and the great demon leading them were clearly not worth uniting against. As for the captives of the Windrider Tribe… even if Hayden brought men to rescue them now, it would probably be too late. Despite their pitiful state, he decided to look at other things first.
Then, coincidentally, Hayden just then saw a burly young man wearing sunglasses walk out of the largest house in the valley. The young man cursed at the noisy, drumming demi-human raiders as he walked out.
The next instant, it happened.
The seemingly human youth suddenly turned his head and looked directly at the gust of wind that housed Hayden's consciousness, meeting his gaze.
His eyes, hidden behind his sunglasses, met Hayden's gaze through the wind.
With just one glance, the young man in human skin revealed a sinister smile.
"This spell isn't the style of the New Gods. This technique, this aura... is it that a fleeing Wind Rider went to a local god for help?"
噫
Before Hayden could even marvel at the demon's keen perception, the other sniffed and frowned: "What's wrong with you, you divine messenger? This aura is impure, your synchronization rate with the gods is so low, and it lacks order. Even if I were to eat you like a paladin, I'd be far from ready."
what?
"I'll capture you first and then cook you up properly!"
No sooner said than done! The young man suddenly reached out and grabbed at the wind, and in the air, an invisible, scorching, and skin-burning force stretched towards Hayden. This force was like a drier, more venomous wind, fierce and sudden, trying to pull Hayden in and seize him!
This is not magic, this is absolutely not magic—this is supernatural power! And it's a supernatural power that Hayden has never seen before!
Caught off guard, it was quite troublesome to use magic to counter supernatural powers. Fortunately, Hayden wasn't a fool; since he knew there were demons here, he had naturally prepared exorcism techniques beforehand.
"O demon, I command you by the name of great power! In the name of Adona, Elohim, Sabat, Ilsadai, Ililoiran! Fall at once, do not disobey! If you dare to disobey, I will cast you into the darkness of the earth! You fallen evil spirit!"
Hayden now has two minds at work, one guarding the inner realm and the other riding the winds outwards, so spatial barriers are no longer a major problem. He drew a pentagram for exorcism and the name of an ancient god for subduing demons on his body, and chanted an ancient exorcism incantation, the effects of which immediately extended to the Windrider tribe.
The pentagram began to emit a clear, cold light carrying a powerful will, like a silver fire whip striking the great demon fiercely!
This exorcism technique may not look fancy, but it is actually a secret art used by ancient West Asian sorcerers to subdue demons, a technique that Hayden discovered and studied from ancient books. Many ancient spells do not have eye-catching sound and light effects, but they possess extremely powerful magic.
However, upon seeing this, the demon let out a cold laugh and pulled back.
There was no obstruction, no countermeasure, no deflection. With a snap, the great demon caught Hayden's spell.
Caught it, the incantation.
It was as easy as catching a ball flying in.
Moreover, the demon itself did not utter any incantations or cast any spells.
He caught Hayden's exorcism magic with his bare hands, rubbed it for a while like playing with a walnut, and then crushed it with one hand.
Hayden stared wide-eyed at the sight, a chill running down his spine.
Supernatural powers
Moreover, it is an extremely powerful magic-breaking and spell-breaking ability, specifically designed to dismantle other people's spells.
"It's been thousands of years, and you're still using this old trick to deal with me? I have a hundred ways to counter it prepared."
"The Great Demon mocked."
Despite saying that, he licked his lips again, revealing a satisfied expression: "But you really are a divine messenger. I haven't eaten the heart and liver of a paladin for hundreds of years. Now that I've caught you, I'll definitely prepare you properly, cutting off your heart and liver to go with my wine. I'll finely chop the lean meat into minced meat, and fry the fat to make oil for lamps!"