Chapter 43: Exchange In The Wastelands
"Do not make excuses for your sins, Black Mage!"
The knight of the Goddess of Prosperity's faith was livid. He raised his spear at Yang Qiu and declared, "Just because he had been overly intimate with a few young servants in his youth, who gave you the audacity to pass judgment on Sir Hans's entire life?! Who do you think you are?
"Sir Hans wasn't just a nobleman, but also a loving husband and father. It was your hasty judgment that ruined his life and plunged his entire family into sorrow. You are the sinner!"
Yang Qiu sneered, "You are just over a hundred years old, yet you are more confused and have a worse memory than mine. Sir Hans's intimacy with a few young servants? He paid compensation of fifty silver coins and three gold coins to six different families. Those who received three gold coins never saw their children again. How can ordinary intimacy cause lively young boys of around ten years old to perish? What kind of terrifying demon was Sir Hans?"
The knight seemed to freeze.
"In my eyes, Sir Hans, who harmed innocent young boys, is the cruel one and the sinner. Making such a person pay the rightful price for his crimes, shattering his limbs, and ensuring that he can never recover or commit further evil should bring great joy to everyone. It should be a reason for widespread celebration…"
"Nonsense!" the knight roared.
There was no way Yang Qiu would be intimidated by a "youngster." He stared at the knight and sternly rebuked, "As a local and an apprentice knight of the church at that time, you should have empathized more with those families who lost their children and felt more compassion for their cries. But what did you do? You defended that terrifying man, Sir Hans, and you bestowed your sympathy on that demon of a man?
"Deaf and blind, devoid of empathy! As a knight of the Goddess of Prosperity's faith, you do not protect the followers of the goddess; you instead treat them as worthless weeds!
"Do you not feel ashamed when praying to the Goddess of Prosperity? Have you never considered your own faults when questioning why I, as an evil black mage, have not lost control?"
The knight's breathing grew heavy, and flashes of red light occasionally flickered in his emerald eyes. His rigid face, marked with wrinkles, revealed traces of anguish.
Power in this world was poisonous. No matter how high the stature of an individual, they would be contaminated and corrupted by the pervasive influence of elder gods when a vulnerability appears in their spirit.
However, this person was, after all, a knight of the faith, and his unwavering faith enabled him to be an anchor for many followers of the Goddess of Prosperity.
The Goddess of Prosperity was indeed a good god with righteous teachings, enough to protect these devout knights of the faith, which prevented them from easily succumbing to the same fate as Rex.
In no time, this individual shook off the mental contamination and firmly declared, "Even if Sir Hans is at fault… he is, without a doubt, a nobleman whom Camore needs. His plantation provides job opportunities for numerous people and supports the livelihoods of thousands!"
Yang Qiu remained expressionless.
It was pointless to discuss class and means of production relations with this stubborn feudal knight. The greatness of the working class was sneered at even by the capitalists of the 21st century on Earth, let alone in this world.
Those who held capital and controlled the means of production would always view the common folk as mere pawns. It had to do with character or morality, just what was best for their own interests.
Therefore, Yang Qiu didn't waste his breath engaging in a fruitless debate with the knight about the origins of the plantations belonging to Sir Hans. Instead, he scoffed. "Holding such a position of significance entitles one to not be held accountable when letting young boys, who are fellow Camore locals and followers of the Goddess of Prosperity, die? Does it grant one free reign over commoners because of their lower status?!
"I never imagined hearing such a cruel and barbaric argument, so devoid of empathy and reminiscent of the law of the jungle, from a knight of the Goddess of Prosperity's faith. I am truly disappointed!
"There's simply no need for justice and righteousness in this world since all disputes can be resolved by comparing status, huh? According to you, those of lower status should never hold the upper echelons accountable for their transgressions. Is that how you think, knight of faith?!"
The knight stiffened up.
Then… this knight, who intended to confront the evil black mage, turned his steed and, without saying another word, took off.
Yang Qiu, who had subdued the enemy without fighting, sneered.
Pathetic! And you dare argue with me? Did you think I only wore a red scarf for show!
[TL note: In Chinese culture, a red scarf is a symbol associated with the Young Pioneers of China, a youth organization affiliated with the Communist Party of China. Wearing a red scarf signifies membership and participation in the organization, which is often associated with socialist values and patriotic education.]
With that, he turned the head of his undead horse and looked at the Camore weavers that were gathered around the carts.
Originally, these old and frail individuals were really uneasy about leaving with the infamous black mage. If they didn't know that they were burdens to their families and were threatened by the unions with "dire consequences if they didn't obediently follow along," many of them would have preferred to take their own lives rather than endure this journey.
During this journey, even though they stumbled and were exhausted to the point of near collapse, no one dared to voice a need for rest. Even if gripped by agonizing fear, they dared not sob softly, afraid that the black mage, who held their fate in his hands, would hear.
When the knight of the faith had caught up, hope quietly sprouted within many who had already given up. They longed for this seemingly despairing journey to be halted. Many wanted to go back home—even if there wasn't much warmth waiting for them there, at least it was their home.
And so… these people listened to the exchange between the knight of the faith and the black mage, then witnessed firsthand how the knight dropped his armor and fled.
As Yang Qiu turned toward them, the weavers, who had been extremely fearful and avoided eye contact with him, now cast their gazes upon him.
Even those women that were barely 40 but almost blind made an effort to lift their heads and blink their cloudy eyes as they tried to locate the position of the black mage.
A middle-aged man, with darkened skin due to disease and aged as if he were in his twilight years (even though he wasn't even 50), struggled to walk out from the crowd. Slowly, he took off his worn-out straw hat and trembled as he bowed down, "Thank you… sir, thank you…"
This cotton farmer, who had dedicated his youth to the cotton fields and was quickly sent back home after losing his ability to work, didn't really know what he ought to be grateful for.
There were many terms he couldn't understand between the black mage and knight's exchange.
But just knowing that this black mage had pity for them, was willing to speak up for the lowly, and confronted the upper class on behalf of their sort was more than enough.
Yang Qiu sighed.
The majority of people were unfortunate, and this applied to any world.
Even on Earth, if one looked beyond the borders of China, they would see countless just like the commoners of this world, whose deaths, even if on a large scale, would fail to attract any attention.
When the people of the "civilized world" ridiculed and complained about countries accepting refugees, did anyone stop to think whether the refugees were willing to become subjugated slaves?
When the people of the "civilized world" adopted an air of petty bourgeois arrogance and disdain toward black people, accusing them of laziness, criminal tendencies, and a lack of ethnic self-esteem, did anyone stop to think about how people from the African continent endured being bought and sold as subhuman slaves by countless countries and regions since the 16th century, going through generations of displacement and turmoil?
When watching the film "Gone with the Wind," did viewers sympathize with the beautiful and elegant protagonist, or did they sympathize with the black slaves far from their homeland?
As the Turks and Russians tacitly maintained the state of warlords in Libya, did anyone raise their arms for Libya? Didn't other countries know what conflict means for a nation?
Even intelligent beings, including humans, were often indifferent to the cries of their own kind.
The insatiable desires of a few determined the fate of the vast majority. Such was the truth of human society.
Even Yang Qiu himself wasn't noble in any sense. If it weren't for being assimilated by the elder god's tentacle like the sword of Damocles hanging over his head, threatening him with instant death if the elder god cast its gaze upon him, he would have peacefully lived his life as a Chinese citizen on Earth. Just having to look back at this messed-up dark, magical other world made him consider himself a loser.
Taking these people with him was not driven by any noble intention to save others. His motivation remained rooted in his own self-interest—the "game" needed commoner NPCs, and his territory, Taranthan, needed manpower to perform tasks that players were unwilling to do. That was all.
Yang Qiu felt no inner stirrings at the gratitude of the weavers. He had done what he did solely for his own purposes, and any sense of satisfaction or elevation from helping others just for the sake of it was unnecessary.
Yang Qiu never saw himself as a savior; as long as he remained true to himself, that was enough.
"Those who can't walk, get on the carriage and let's continue."
Pulling this weary group along for over two hours until many were tottering on the verge of collapse, Yang Qiu finally ordered a rest.
Then he took out the food he had prepared in advance—a mix of fatty pork scraps, deep-fried fish fillets (made from fish that the fishmonger couldn't sell on time), deep-fried instant noodles (without the seasoning packets), and cheap cabbage priced at 1 yuan per kilogram. He cooked them all together in a stew.
This hodgepodge of a stew, which would be unwelcome to the former bandits who "enjoyed" supermarket clearance items, was surprisingly well received by the weavers. They had been walking for over 10 hours straight, after all.
Not only weren't there any complaints, but the weavers also became more obedient and compliant after that.
During this period, the players' army of skeletons and one zombie continued to slay "spawned monsters" at a rate of one every 40 minutes to an hour while steadily advancing westward.
Yang Qiu never fantasized about having the Fourth Crisis march like a regular army. At this point, there was less than a third that had endured this journey without any impatience or an impulse to kill themselves and respawn back in town. Such obsession with the quest bordered on insanity.
During his previous trip along this road to cause a ruckus in Camore, Yang Qiu had spent half his time driving away monsters that the players couldn't handle for the time being as well as searching for "small bosses" or "elite monsters" suitable for the current player army to fight; otherwise, he wouldn't have taken that long given the speed of his undead horse.
With occasional "spawns" of bosses and elite monsters obstructing the way, there were fewer cases of players throwing in the towel and forcibly going offline…
When dawn broke in the game, the players that had been fighting monsters while journeying realized that their daily online limit wouldn't be enough if they stayed with the army the entire time. Thus, online and offline schedules were mutually agreed on, and organization and planning were done to ensure a sufficient number of players were online at all times.
Brother Lahong's faction that had won the Undead Auction even came up with a clever plan upon realizing how lucrative it was farming monsters along the way:
Brother Lahong personally logged out to call the player currently in possession of the Undead Horse, gather players that hadn't been online the previous night when they were amassing manpower for the expedition, and have the rider make multiple trips to ferry comrades that hadn't yet caught up with the main host or had accidentally died on the way.
Qin Guan got envious when he saw this and sought out the player in possession of the Undead Horse in hopes that the said player could help with "transporting people."
The player agreed without any hesitation, but asked for payment.
The bustling scene of players going online and offline couldn't be captured in screenshots or videos since it all occurred outside of "save points." However, the super thrilling "Great Expedition" was relayed through a "live update" on the forum and attracted a flurry of comments:
"It was three in the morning in-game time. The army reached a place near a lake where fish-like monsters with horns on their heads, scales, and tangled hair made of aquatic plants gathered. These monsters were tough and even worked together, so attacking one would aggro the others. Several players died and had to queue in line for the Undead Horse Express…"
"The above comment didn't mention the highlight! After we defeated the fish-like monsters, one of my teammates spotted lotus flowers by the lakeside and reached down to touch them. And guess what? There were lotus roots as thick as our thigh bones, several times thicker!"
"There's literally no highlight in what you said! We're either zombies or skeletons. What's the use of finding lotus roots? Who can eat them?"
"Sell them to those high-level NPCs, of course! They eat instant noodles all the time. Won't they salivate seeing lotus roots?"
"What the heck, we're even going to do business with NPCs, 666!"
"Do we gain reputation by handing over lotus roots to advanced NPCs?"
"Step aside and let me handle it. I know how to make lotus root sandwiches!"
"To the non-player above, get your account first before talking about it."
"Account, please…"
"The game time is six in the morning. The elite monsters that spawned this time are even more badass. 'Identify' shows that the ranger players can capture them as pets!"
"Enough! I'm nearly dying from laughter. A bunch of wanderers rushed forward intending to capture them alive, but damn, it resulted in a massive slaughter!"
"I was one of the wanderers who died. I suspect the damn game developers are playing a prank on us wanderers. We weren't given any capturing skills and were tricked into going over to feed…"
"I'm begging for an account. Ahhh, I want to play too!"
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