Life and Death Unknown Means Not Dead

Drangleic, whose continent is located north of the Serenity main continent, is also inhabited by Dog-men, but its temperature is lower due to the difference in latitude.

Before modern industrialized societies, temperature and environment were important factors influencing a dynasty, as temperature and precipitation affect plant growth and indirectly affect crops and even animal husbandry.

Just like the Tibetan Empire during the Old Terra Tang Dynasty in ancient Terra, due to temperature and rainfall, the area around the Tibetan Empire at that time, which later became the Imperial Palace of Terra, was not as harsh as imagined. On the contrary, it was lush with water and grass, a gift from God.

Therefore, the distribution of Dog-men settlements at that time was extremely uneven. The north was vast and sparsely populated, and the people were mostly nomadic. They were all big and strong, truly Dog-men- people.

The southern region, closer to the mainland, has a higher temperature and was one of the main exhibition areas of the Dar Company's Serenity Amusement Park back then. The land there was so fertile that it yielded eight harvests of millet a year.

However, the main continent has one drawback: its biodiversity is simply too rich. The infamous Twisted Jungle is located on the main continent, filled with all sorts of fantastical monsters released by the Dar Company. The biosphere was completely transplanted from the neighboring Catachan.

Therefore, due to geographical differences, Dog-men in temperate regions are naturally wild, because they must store enough hay and food to survive the winter and prepare heating supplies.

It's not the kind of thing where you can rest easy with just 100 catties of cabbage and two tons of coal. That's not enough at all. When autumn comes, the Dog-men of the northern tribes will use a lot of sea salt to pickle vegetables, sauerkraut, and all sorts of strange vegetables.

They also had to chop firewood, cut down trees, make coal briquettes, stockpile hay, and prepare feed, working hard all autumn before they could prepare for winter.

After feasting all spring, these herders would sell the dinosaurs and chickens they used as mounts to the south in exchange for grain and other novelties.

The principle that "it is not scarcity that is a concern but inequality" applies everywhere. Although Dog-men are lazy, they are, after all, a fighting race, while wolves are animals that spontaneously band together.

This led to a long period of division among the Dog-man Tribe, with numerous independent leaders, including some exceptionally intelligent dogs like the Emperor.

The result was predictable: under the influence of various environmental factors, the Dog-man Tribe fought amongst themselves, stealing each other's chickens one day and encroaching on each other's grasslands the next.

Northern dogs are fierce, while southern dogs are wealthy. One side considers the other a weakling, while the other considers the other a stray dog. They can't stand each other and even secretly compete with each other.

The land Serenity and fertile enough; if we concentrate our efforts on major projects, we could definitely support all the Dog-men. Yet, none of them are willing to submit to the others.

A large number of Dog-men who could not survive gathered together and formed a new tribe. However, because of the various treatments they had received in the past, they were particularly xenophobic and became another small group.

Those tribes, large and small, divided into separate territories, were even more fragmented than those in medieval Europe. You were called Khan, he was called Chieftain, and I was the head of the state. Moreover, the Chieftain under the Khan were not the Khan's Chieftain.

No matter what, Mordred is an ambitious young man with a deep-rooted belief in unification; how could he sit idly by?

What's the difference between a person without ideals and a salted fish?

After learning about the current state of this other world, Mordred immediately made a grand vow. "I will establish a tribe, a tribe that makes all places, both visible and invisible, into one tribe."

The Khan must be abolished. In my tribe, only the Dog-men can be the masters of the tribe, and I will be the king of kings, the Chieftain of Chieftain, the Great Chieftain!

"So that's how you started your rebellion back then?" Zhuang Sen asked. "Did you later meet Old Thomas, and Old Thomas was a knight, oh no! According to your side, he should be Shaman?"

Afterwards, you fought together in the north and south, eliminating heresies from all sides, strictly disciplining yourselves with virtue, and raising your arms to call upon countless Dog-men to join you.

"I remember you mentioned to me before that you have a ritual called Macragge, and you won over 88 clans through one-on-one duels to eventually become the Great Chieftain, right?"

"How could that be? I'm not stupid! Seriously, Zhuang Sen, are you out of your mind? You weren't like this back in Caliban, were you?"

"Oh, isn't that right?"

"Of course not! Zhuang Sen, get out of the way, let me speak!"

Having seized the initiative, Guilliman said, "Zhuang Sen's playing the knight game has confused him. Don't you remember Second Brother saying that Old Thomas was the old Shaman of the tribe?"

Within this social system, the old Shaman was equivalent to the old prophet, and was an extremely important figure in the tribe, while my Second Brother was the adopted son of Old Thomas, which meant he was the little prophet.

So it should be the Second Brother who inherits the Shaman's position. With a combination of force and persuasion, he conquered the Dog-men and was supported by Dog-men as their Great Chieftain. Sisyphus, don't you agree?

Sisyphus remained silent, thinking to himself, "What do I know? While you guys were having so much fun, I was digging a tunnel in the Himalayas."

He dug through the entire mountain range before finally falling into the Hive City, but the start was hell. He landed in the Underhive of Holy Terra, instantly becoming a very promising professional Scavengers.

I didn't realize it before, but now that we're all together, I see how much these guys are thinking. But what the three of them said wasn't wrong, it's just that Mordred used all of them, but the process was slightly different. "Back then, I made a grand vow, and Old Thomas immediately opened my eyes. You guys wouldn't understand, so let me show you some precious game footage."

Mordred possessed the Number One and used Guilliman's eyes to project a slideshow. The slideshow featured an ordinary, unremarkable Yellow Skins Dog-men, who was nothing special among Dog-men. The only unusual thing about this Dog-men was that there were a few scarlet War Mark on his cheeks.

Because it was Mordred's perspective, Samsung didn't see Mordred, but only Old Thomas's claws digging into the earth, with dense and complex scarlet lightning flashing out, as he used his bare claws to carve out a hundred-meter-long the Rock from the sea cliff.

Then the stone flew up and was hurled into the sky by the old dog, killing an unlucky dragon.

"Dude, are you sure this is a normal Dog-men? Could this be your father's alternate account?"

"It's not Yellow Skins, it could be a red weasel, but if it's a red weasel possessing you, Guilliman, you know best, then it won't be the cliffs that crumble, it will be this entire continent."

Do you know what my adoptive father said to me back then?

"Huh?" ×3

After lighting another cigarette, Mordred said with a slight sigh, "Thomas told me that there are quite a few Dog-men like him who are old but still alive. He's just lived too long, so every Dog-men gives him face."

If you truly wish to unify the Dog-men, there is only one option: there is no peaceful and friendly Macragge, only the ruthless Rak'Shir, who will use their bones, blood, skin, and flesh to establish your supreme authority.

Over eight years, I used every trick in the book—luring, ambushing, feeding dogs chocolate—and repeatedly faced near-death experiences, to become the largest warlord of my time. The price was that the entire subcontinent shattered in two, with one half sinking to the bottom of the sea.

"And after I defeated Sargeras, my most formidable rival, I had only one enemy left."

"You're not your adoptive father, are you?"

Mordred nodded, indicating that they were right; he had stolen all 88 ancient surnames, and the leader of the last ancient clan was Thomas.

However, Thomas died at the very moment I became the Great Chieftain, passing the Chieftain of the tribe to me, and I fulfilled my promise to him.

"Where did Rambo come from? And what about those tribal Chieftain who call themselves the Canid Eight?"

"I picked them all up. These dogs were struggling to survive back then, they couldn't even get food. At the time, there were only two people in my tribe, me and Old Thomas."

"They have 800 men Xuanwu Gate confrontation, but the Atlas Clan only has two old and weak people, so I have to recruit more. Do you see the mill next to the blacksmith's shop?"

Through Guilliman's eyes, everyone indeed saw a row of windmills, which were now slowly turning with the sea breeze.

"I didn't have the privileged childhood that you, Guilliman, had. Everyone gave Old Thomas face, so we initially made a living by selling sea salt and scones, and on the side, we ground flour for people and traded it for fruits and vegetables."

For example, you could trade grain for oranges. These oranges keep well in winter, and eating too many can turn your skin yellow. Thomas told me that he loved eating oranges when he was a child. They weren't originally this color; they turned yellow from eating too many.

Those guys were war orphans, unwanted and nearly frozen to death in the snow, so they came to my place to steal sheep. Although I deliberately left a pot of roasted lamb leg at the door, actions speak louder than words. I provide plenty of flatbread; roasted lamb leg is too extravagant, but at least there's lamb soup to drink."

This kind of conversation about childhood with their brothers was something the three Primarchs had never experienced before. And this was the Primarch, a group of freaks with pitifully short childhoods, godless hearts, yet gods among men.

So it's no one else's fault that the Yellow Skins's children are at odds; he deserves it. He only thought about skipping the plot, and in the end, he ruined his own life.

Perhaps it was because the sight of these objects evoked memories, but the warm sunlight stirred up a wave of emotions in all four of them. Since there were four of them, Mordred and his companions decided to play the popular card game "Imperium Kill," which was widely acclaimed in the Empire and sold overseas.

They completely forgot what their main mission in coming here was.

However, this is only natural. After all, Mordred lost her son, while the other Primarchs lost their brothers. If their fate is unknown, they are either dead or alive.

Anyway, Tom won't die, and Sanguinius won't be in any trouble, so let's play a game of cards first.

Perhaps because this world was a demon realm born when Mordred a god, it is a collection of stereotypes, where the sun never sets, and this little harbor called Majula is always bathed in sunshine.

While the four of them were playing cards and enjoying the warm sunshine, Tom looked at his almost empty food supplies and felt a pang of worry.

"I can't stay here any longer. I can't beat those chickens at all. When my dad comes back, I'm going to give him a good scolding."

My father is truly unfilial; the door can't be opened from the front, the steps are too small for me to jump up, there's a torch-wielding swordsman lying in ambush around the corner, and the first thing I encounter upon opening the door is two dogs with a goat-headed Daemon on their back—

But what's most infuriating is that group of Spartan. They've been dead for who knows how many years, but they're all more despicable than anyone else, especially Jill. I even hugged her back then!

I was just about to say hello, thinking I'd run into an old acquaintance, when her eyes suddenly turned red and she vanished in a flash. Then she suddenly reappeared behind me, wielding two Chainsword and hacking away. I couldn't withstand 12 slashes per second.

"Daemon it is, we need to find some food. We have to keep exploring. Who knows how many more times we'll have to die? If we keep dying, I'll turn into a zombie."

A phantom of a winged Sanguinius emerged from the sword, indicating that this didn't affect me; after all, I was already dead. Once you became a living corpse, I'd find another master. I wonder who was foolish enough to crawl in here; now they can't get out, can they?

Without hesitation, Tom cautiously navigated various malicious traps and ambushes, finally arriving at an unexplored fog gate. "Blighttown? That name sounds familiar. I've heard my father mention it before. It seems to be the place where the Dog-men were exiled. Who was that guy again? The black and white pirate dog Casca, I think that's where my father picked it up from Blighttown."

As you can tell from the name, this place is full of the elderly, the weak, and the disabled. Nobody in the village wants their things, so they have to be given to me.

However, after Tom passed through the fog gate, the previously normal environment instantly changed, turning into an indescribable, filthy green, and even the art style changed.

But what truly broke Tom's spirits were the two gatekeepers standing at the entrance to the Blighttown —one towering over 5 meters tall, with short legs, long arms, and a round body topped with an umbrella.

In any other world, this thing would be a perfect mascot, but the problem is, this is Serenity.

"Holy crap, mushroom!"