Death Inquisitor

"Lord Noah, we have been surrounded by the Black Water Tribe and the One-Armed Tribe."

Scorpion ducked into the cramped tent and shouted before he even reached Noah.

Such a panicked display made the warriors near the tent tense up.

Noah put down the map of the surrounding area he had spent a month drawing, his hand gripping the charcoal pencil with nervous intensity.

"How many are there?"

Scorpion froze, then stammered, "I... I don't know, but there are definitely more of them than our warriors."

Noah tried his best to appear calm, but he couldn't help but take short, shallow breaths.

He couldn't help it; he was, after all, only a teenager.

After Thor had left him a vast amount of wealth and resources and informed him that he wouldn't be coming by for a long time, Noah had decided to head to Scorpion's tribe.

He wanted to spread the name of Thor, the Death Inquisitor, across this barren world, making the people here followers of his mentor.

That way, whenever his mentor needed specific materials or information in the future, it would become an effortless task.

Otherwise, relying on himself alone, his research progress would be agonizingly slow.

At first, Noah had thought it would be easy.

Since the people here could only rely on their mutated bodies to fight and possessed no Magic Power whatsoever, he believed he could easily conquer these primitives by utilizing the powerful Witchcraft Items Thor had given him.

But after Noah followed Scorpion to his tribe, he realized that while these people lacked knowledge of witchcraft and were technologically backward, it didn't mean they were gullible fools.

The scarce resources and harsh living environment made these people naturally alert and cautious.

A single moment of negligence could bring the threat of extinction