Amisfida pondered relentlessly, thinking to himself:
"Samson the Bull Demon supported the Tribal Alliance’s military campaign, leading to the orcs’ defeat. Shortly after arriving at the camp, he left with his own people and handed over control of the Tribal Alliance to me. I had always suspected Samson wouldn’t simply give up and might have a hidden agenda. Now, it’s confirmed—he does have ulterior motives. My intuition was correct."
He glanced at Choudrou, who lay crying on the ground, and then at the grim-faced Black Dragon. A small sense of relief washed over him as he mused:
"If their tribe still existed, they would never pledge loyalty to me. Fortunately, Samson slaughtered their tribe, leaving them no choice but to seek refuge with me."
"In that sense, it has turned out to be a significant benefit for me."
“But how should I deal with Samson the Bull Demon?”
Amisfida fell into deep thought, yet no solution presented itself.
Upon reaching the Saint rank, advancing even a single level became as challenging as progressing from a low rank to a middle rank or from a middle rank to a high rank. The disparity between each level was unimaginable to those below the Saint rank.
Princess May Guillaume could face two opponents at once, effortlessly slaying a Saint-ranked warrior from Byron and extracting their blood core.
Herolf the Golden Ram could fend off the siege of several lower-tier Saint-ranked fighters simultaneously.
Zimmerman Axel Robin required a coalition of six top-tier Saint-rank warriors to contend against him.
Though Amisfida was hailed as the King of The Ten Thousand Lions and was but a step away from the peak of the Saint rank, he was well aware that he was no match for Samson the Bull Demon.
This predicament caused Amisfida much distress. Knowing the Black Dragon’s cunning, he set aside his pride and asked:
“What should we do to counter Samson the Bull Demon’s provocations?”
The Black Dragon replied concisely, “Only by gaining greater power can we oppose Samson.”
Amisfida sighed. “It’s merely a single level difference, yet I have no idea when I might break through.”
The Black Dragon responded calmly, “If the Lion King cannot break through, why not seek external aids?”
“The orcs possess ten divine weapons, each an extraordinary artifact of the Saint rank. With one of these, the Lion King would no longer need to fear the Bull Demon.”
Amisfida hesitated for a long time before replying, “The ten divine weapons are all treasures that safeguard their respective tribes. How could they lend one to me? Among the five major tribes of the lion race, the divine weapon resides with the Snow Lion Tribe. My Frenzied Lion Tribe has no authority to use it.”
Amisfida spoke tactfully, but in truth, the Snow Lion Tribe, being the strongest among the lion clans, hardly acknowledged the Frenzied Lion Tribe. The Snow Lion Tribe’s king was recognized as the Lion King by all five tribes, occupying the most fertile lands of the southern continent. It was one of the rare orc tribes that lived in wealth and comfort.
The Black Dragon did not expose him but instead smiled faintly and said, “If the lion tribe’s divine weapon is unavailable, why not consider those of other tribes?”
“For example, the Ape Tribe’s Dragon Hammer, which is in Choudrou’s possession. Why not borrow it temporarily?”
Choudrou cursed inwardly:
“Black Dragon, we are both bound by magical contracts. Why resort to such ruthless tactics?”
He wailed louder and cried out, “The Dragon Hammer has already been taken by Samson the Bull Demon! How could I still possess it? If I had it, I would gladly lend it to the Lion King to avenge my descendants.”
Amisfida’s heart sank. He thought, “I’m already no match for Samson, and if he has also taken the Ape Tribe’s Dragon Hammer, I’m even more powerless against him. What should I do now?”
Seeing Amisfida’s worried expression, the Black Dragon suggested, “If the Lion King is so distressed, why not indulge in some strong drink to ease the burden?”
Amisfida nodded. “Bring the wine.”
Choudrou, without needing a signal from the Black Dragon, scrambled to his feet. His mood was even gloomier than Amisfida’s. When orc guards brought forth the looted fine wine, he was the first to grab a barrel and start drinking.
Soon, several strong lion warriors dragged in a few well-preserved humans. They slaughtered them on the spot to prepare a feast of roasted meat for the three Saint-ranked leaders.
The Black Dragon, having promised Charlot Mecklenburg to abstain from consuming human flesh, kept his word and refrained from eating. Choudrou, being from the Silverback Gorilla tribe known for their straightforwardness, also avoided breaking the rule. The two drank heartily but did not touch the food.
Amisfida, unaware of anything unusual, drank a barrel of ale, ate half a human, and decided to change his palate with some raw meat dipped in salad dressing.
The three Saint-ranked orcs each had their own thoughts, drinking late into the night. The Black Dragon was the first to leave.
Choudrou, feeling guilty, dared not stay alone with Amisfida and also claimed he needed rest.
Amisfida, finding it dull to drink alone, forced Choudrou to stay. Helpless, Choudrou reluctantly complied.
After leaving Amisfida’s quarters, the Black Dragon noticed one of the servers wink at him. He remained expressionless but, after walking some distance, was approached by a lion warrior. As they passed each other, the warrior whispered, “It’s done.”
The Black Dragon didn’t need to guess—Leopardman Tumisan had disguised himself as a lion. Under the pretext of preparing roasted meat for Amisfida, he had slipped the Eye of Destiny into the roast.
Shaking his head, the Black Dragon thought, “Offending that old Leopardman really requires caution. His speed is unmatched, and his shapeshifting abilities make him impossible to guard against.”
“Fortunately, we’re on the same side. Otherwise, I’d have to be wary of everything I eat.”
Having succeeded, the Leopardman quietly left the orc camp and headed straight for Red Cliff City.
Charlot Mecklenburg was in secluded training. When informed, it was already past midnight. He hurriedly got up to meet Tumisan, who was beaming with satisfaction.
“Did you succeed?” Charlot asked.
“It’s done,” Tumisan replied and recounted in detail how he had sabotaged Amisfida.
Charlot marveled at the Leopardman’s extraordinary methods. His shapeshifting ability was a rare talent, nearly impossible to guard against.
Even Charlot, despite his innate gifts, could only mimic the appearance of a young bear warrior after encountering Redback Bear warriors. Transforming someone else into a specific shape was beyond his capabilities.
Charlot sighed deeply and said, “Inform the others. We’ll infiltrate the orc camp and, when Amisfida succumbs to the curse of the Eye of Destiny, we’ll strike and kill the lion.”
When Charlot first brought the West Wind Knight Order, he had intended to retreat as soon as he learned the other four knight orders had withdrawn. He never imagined the situation would escalate to this.
“As long as we kill this lion…”
“I’ll return to Strasbourg and demand justice.”