Chapter 334: Chapter 242: The Legacy Treasury_1
Grendel stopped, a look of revulsion and even hatred involuntarily surfacing on her face, yet it couldn’t fully conceal the fear beneath.
"Go on." Finally encountering a key character in the story, Lance’s attention was inevitably piqued.
Grendel appeared reluctant to recall the hulking figure draped in wolf pelt, but after a brief pause, she continued speaking.
"I haven’t seen him since our last encounter. Over the past few years, Warwolf has become even more deranged. Of course, his power has also become terrifying..."
As the Wolf God’s chosen, Warwolf demonstrated his expected strength in this massacre. The warriors of the Deerhead Tribe were utterly unable to even stall him.
After receiving the Wolf God’s blessing, his resistance to various negative effects grew strong. The secret techniques passed down through the tribe ultimately had little destructive power against him.
Not to mention, the Deerhead Tribe had always been a small tribe, with fewer than a thousand members. They had no strength to resist the Fang Wolf Tribe, which had been lurking in the shadows for a long time.
Initially, they hoped to buy some time for the old and weak to evacuate, but the defensive line crumbled the moment Warwolf began his frenzied slaughter.
The Fang Wolf Tribe had completed their encirclement. Judging by their demeanor, it was apparent they had no intention of letting a single person escape.
Seeing the situation was irreversible, the tribe’s Priest instructed Grendel to escape and avenge the tribe.
The Priest himself invoked a Forbidden Technique. Its powerful force tore through the encirclement, and he used this opportunity to engage Warwolf.
But the cost of using such a Forbidden Technique was immense: his body would inevitably begin to transform into a plant. Yet, the Priest did not hesitate, continually sacrificing his life to hold back the enemy and forge a path...
Grendel didn’t elaborate further, her expression somewhat dazed.
Even Boudica, an outcast who wandered after being banished from her tribe, knew that Warwolf had triumphed and the Deerhead Tribe was annihilated. The Priest had likely perished as well, leaving Grendel as the sole escapee from her tribe.
Grendel had escaped, but her soul remained forever on that brutal battlefield, steeped in blood and despair. Every time she closed her eyes, those horrific scenes replayed, and she couldn’t help but clench her Magic Wand, her knuckles turning white.
"Bloodthirsty Thorns? Like you did before?" Lance recalled that she seemed to have extended thorns from her hand previously.
"This is a piece of equipment created by combining our tribe’s secret techniques. It can grow controlled Bloodthirsty Thorns. When the thorns catch prey, they drain its blood, nourishing the user’s body in return. However, if they consume too much without replenishment, they will start draining the user’s own blood."
So, it either leeches blood from enemies or drains the user’s own blood if it misses. Lance looked at the artifact, sensing only a kind of malevolence from it. Indeed, Supernatural Power is rarely straightforward; it usually comes with all sorts of side effects.
As she spoke, Grendel proactively extended her right hand and rolled up her sleeve.
Lance’s gaze followed her raised sleeve upward. What he saw at her wrist was a gruesome and bizarre sight.
A bracelet made of thorns was on her wrist. Its sharp spikes pierced directly into her skin, leaving numerous scars.
Seeing this, Lance finally understood why he had drawn so much Spiritual Essence from her when he saved her. It turned out her body had been severely depleted.
At the time, the situation had been too urgent for him to notice.
But logically, he had already healed her physical injuries. Why were there still scars?
Lance thought for a moment and quickly understood. These injuries must have been from the recent period when she had no prey to feed the thorns, suffering a backlash and having to nourish them with her own blood.
"Didn’t I tell you to speak up if you needed anything? You treated me for the plague. Would I really begrudge you the flesh and blood to feed your Bloodthirsty Thorns?" Saying this, Lance gently took Grendel’s right hand and activated his Ability to heal the wounds on it.
Grendel didn’t resist. Perhaps she was still in a daze and hadn’t reacted before her hand was grasped. In just a breath, the scars on it were healed.
"We’re comrades. You must speak up if anything happens. Even if I can’t help resolve it, I can at least share the burden." Lance didn’t overstep. After finishing the healing, he released her hand but didn’t forget to earnestly remind her.
"Mmm..." Grendel retracted her hand, not saying much more. She felt the pain in her wrist vanish, leaving only a lingering warmth.
Lance sensed the mood had become awkward and quickly steered the conversation back on course.
"Weren’t you on good terms with many tribes? Why didn’t you seek their help instead of coming to the Empire?"
"If our tribe were facing an attack but still holding out, just one message would bring countless tribes to help us fight against the Fang Wolf Tribe.
"If our tribe lost to the Fang Wolf Tribe’s attack but some of us survived, many tribes would still be willing to take us in, to provide Sanctuary.
"Unfortunately, the Fang Wolf Tribe knew this too, so from the start of their attack, they had no intention of leaving any survivors.
"And when only I remained to seek help from those tribes, it was highly unlikely any would offer me Sanctuary. After all, even after escaping, I was still being hunted by the Fang Wolf Tribe; Warwolf would not let me go.
"No tribe would be willing to go to war with the Fang Wolf Tribe for just one person, especially not when the Fang Wolf Tribe had greatly increased its strength by seizing our tribe’s legacy."