My Players Are So Fierce – Handsome dog Frank

Chapter 2824: Chapter 942: If the Divine Spirit Says Go, You Go! Can the Divine Spirit Harm You?

When Huggesen returned to the Jackal Camp, the remaining priests had already been gathered, and the camp had reluctantly regained some order after a round of suppression. The Barbarian Soldiers killed by their own were being dragged out and thrown into various parts of the swamp, giving the entire camp a bloody stench.

The Master of Hunting opened the visor of his newly donned vanguard-level Power Armor, taking a delighted breath of the air filled with the scent of blood. The deaths he had tasted in the Divine Kingdom were indeed wonderful, but they couldn’t compare to the excitement of the real blood before him.

Yet, a sense of self-pity rose from his heart, like a tiger fallen to the plains.

Damn it, how did I end up in such a sorry state, finding even a breath of blood to be satisfying?

It’s all those damned vampires’ fault!

Murphy, and Pa Ying!

You just wait, I’ll make you pay!

His expression turned ferocious again, and he didn’t bother closing his battle helmet. He strode forward clad in his blood-red iron armor, amidst the fearful stares of the Jackalman General and the priests.

He glanced at the warriors gathered before him.

As the Racial God of the Wolf People, despite losing most of his great power, just from the still existing faith connection, he could feel the emptiness, bewilderment, and fear of the warriors before him.

Continuous failures had filled them with pessimism for the future. Though still powerful, they couldn’t unleash the destruction they should have.

Such weak and pitiful flesh!

The Master of Hunting criticized them in his heart. Although his existence came from the ignorance and devotion of these Wolf People, one should not expect an Evil God to regard these ever-failing servants as anything important. The Master of Hunting never hid his attitude toward the Wolf People after he was able to interfere with the material world.

No more than fuel and sustenance.

Their only purpose was to nourish him, the god. Whether they lived well, whether their short and wild lives were stable or joyful, was not important at all.

In his current weakened state, to quickly restore his strength, he had to restart the sacrifices that were constantly happening on the Maginot Line!

Yes!

A few more bloody rituals to restore his injured divine soul to a self-preserving state by absorbing the nourishment of death and brutality. Since his shrine was destroyed by that bastard Pa Ying and he could no longer absorb faith on a large scale, he could only resort to this more primitive method.

But that didn’t matter.

He was a god, with plenty of forbidden knowledge in his mind. Though he didn’t care much about it, he could still use it when needed.

"You cowards!"

The Master of Hunting, controlling Huggesen’s body, spoke out.

But language was only a façade. What he truly employed was his "privilege" as a Racial Faith God, ruthlessly cramming his mind into the shells of these warriors with a crude mindset, replacing their weak and foolish thinking with his own violent will.

They were just movable tools, meant to fulfill their mission as fuel. Too much wisdom and consideration would only slow down their blade-drawing speed.

If the Wolf People were indeed creatures created by the Master of Hunting, he probably wouldn’t have given the Wolf People a brain at all, just an organ to offer faith, with the rest all designed for destructive power and strength.

This creator seems not to know how to make things!

Why give the Wolf People a complete brain, and why give them the ability to think? Too much thought from fools only causes trouble! Look at how much trouble their poor wisdom has caused me now!

The Master of Hunting sneered internally, full of complaints. Huggesen, subdued by him, could completely sense the dissatisfaction and disdain floating within his god at this moment, a worldview based on brutality, plunder, and destruction—so simple and crude, with its own set of logic it was hard to bear.

Thinking of how the face of the Master of Hunting was shaped by a century of worship from the Wolf People, his current mindset and concept were indeed the "ultimate embodiment" of Wolf People’s civilization, making Huggesen even more sorrowful.

A century of dedication from a race resulted in such a creation.

Alas, the repeated wars and failures of the Wolf People indeed had their reasons.

He was now suppressed by the Master of Hunting in the corner of his mind, viewing everything before him from a third-party perspective.

He could see the minds of the Wolf People being seized and crushed by the Master of Hunting, could see those shells of living corpses filled with extremist thoughts, see unbound fury ignited in the eyes of lives hard to be called vibrant anymore.

As life’s last dignity was so easily taken and toyed with, to be cursed as useless by the Evil God, the dignity of a race was trampled by their self-created deity, pressed into the mud with no chance of rising again.

A mixture of relief and anger swelled in the Grand Marshal’s thoughts.

Relief that such an Evil God had already been defeated, that what he demonstrated before him would not doom the Wolf People’s civilization to despair in the future.

And anger because, as long as this Evil God lived, the Wolf People would endure another day of humiliation and torment.

But the calm that followed quickly dispelled these two sharp fleeting emotions. Huggesen regarded the spread and propagation of this heretical ritual with a calmer perspective, knowing it was the Evil God’s last humiliation to them.