Complete Madness

The potential dangers near Armory Camp had long since been cleared out by Medivh.

But as panic spread, gangs of thugs from other regions gradually drifted over this way.

Necromancers and skeletons were synonymous with the weak and worthless in this era.

When they saw Armory Camp guarded by a bunch of skeletons, the thugs howled and charged, eager to loot the camp and claim it for themselves.

In their eyes, a few hundred or even a thousand skeleton soldiers were nothing—they could wipe them out with ease.

"Are these necromantic skeletons? They can't be real!"

The reckless thugs who attacked were quickly taught a lesson by the powerful Green Bone Skeletons.

Compared to the Green Bone Skeletons, they were the ones putting on a show.

They slashed at the Green Bone Skeletons, but the skeletons felt neither pain nor itch.

When the Green Bone Skeletons struck back, they dropped dead on the spot.

Before dying, their faces were frozen in disbelief, unable to understand why the necromantic skeletons here were so strong.

Had they been wandering the Odyssey Region for so long that the world's version had updated?

Had necromancers returned to their peak, and the tide of undead once again become the nightmare of all races?

They had too many questions, but no one was there to answer them.

Their unwilling souls tried to turn into ghosts, but before they could form, the God of Light's Hospice Blessing dissolved them into nothingness.

Under the God of Light's blessing, corpses were not allowed to become spirits.

No matter how great the resentment, fresh corpses could not naturally mutate into ghosts, zombies, or rotting undead.

After special processing, their bodies were transported to the cemetery Medivh had designated for burial.

Their remains would accumulate history beneath the earth, waiting for Medivh to awaken them.

The famine in the Odyssey Region had not yet begun; this was merely a frenzied prelude.

The thugs attacking Armory Camp were just small to medium roaming forces, not even a single transcendent among them.

Such opponents were not worth Medivh's attention; the camp's skeletons could wipe them out with ease.

The thug attacks did not affect Armory Camp's development. The logistics skeletons worked overtime building the high walls of the Wall District, eager to complete Medivh's assigned tasks ahead of schedule.

Medivh was equally busy, his daily schedule packed to the brim.

His days were spent refining skeletons, meditating to restore mana and practicing common spells, and training in Battle Qi and combat techniques.

Life needed pleasure—work and rest balanced. Before resting each day, he found some entertainment.

Audrey, full of wild fantasies, or the kitten—sometimes fierce, sometimes gentle, sometimes passionate—brought him the ultimate enjoyment.

While the Odyssey Region was in chaos, with factions fighting to the death over a single meal, Medivh sat in his tower drinking fruit wine and eating roasted meat, utterly at ease.

He had been busy in the Odyssey Region for over half a year—didn't he deserve a little enjoyment?

Amidst this comfortable life, Medivh did not forget to send his combat skeletons to search for ruins of human and other race settlements.

The stockpile of remains at Armory Camp was running low; he needed to find new ancient sites to excavate.

Thug gangs, who lived by robbery and had no fixed homes, rarely had the habit of stockpiling large amounts of food.

When they ran out of food, they went hunting.

This lifestyle had never been a problem before, but after the Bloodthirsty Mosquito Swarm, prey became scarce, forcing them to dig in the dirt or rob other factions.

Scrounging for food was no way to live. Thugs were used to feasting on meat and drink; how could they stomach bitter, disgusting roots and bugs?

After a period of chaos, the thug gangs, having exhausted their reserves, began to unite.

They knew full well what their peers were like—robbing other thugs would get them nothing to eat.

United, they set out to plunder the richer camps and foreign tribes.

Stable camps and foreign tribes all had some farming and livestock, with more stored food.

When the herds would return to the Odyssey Region was unknown.

How long the famine caused by the Bloodthirsty Mosquito Swarm would last, no one knew.

But those who had experienced great famines understood that in the later stages, even edible roots and bugs became hard to find, forcing them to eat the corpses of other races or even their own kind.

To survive, those wealthy camps and foreign tribes fought bloody battles against the thugs and other races who came to plunder them.

Some camps and tribes were looted; some raiders were wiped out by camp guards or tribal warriors.

Under the shadow of famine, life consumed itself, and the population of the Odyssey Region dwindled further.

"Almost there!"

Half a month after the Bloodthirsty Mosquito Swarm retreated, the Vincent Family, escorted by the Winter Fortress army, transported grain to the entrance of Winter Canyon for sale.

The Vincent Family dared not enter the Odyssey Region—people driven mad by hunger had no reason left.

At Winter Canyon, with the army's deterrence, the thugs could still restrain themselves.

Beyond Winter Canyon, even the army escorting them would be robbed.

The garrison at Winter Fortress was there to earn money, not to bury themselves in the Odyssey Region.

After the Vincent Family spread the word, a flood of thugs gathered at the entrance to Winter Canyon.

At first, the thugs couldn't stomach the exorbitant grain prices, but the Vincent Family's merchants were in no hurry—they knew hunger would break them.

Sure enough, within a few days, some thugs, unable to bear the starvation, pinched their noses and traded with them. More and more followed.

While the merchants sipped fine wine and counted their spoils, the thugs' eyes grew increasingly wild.

Finally, one day, madness crushed fear. The thugs attacked the Vincent Family's camp.

At first, the garrison held the line, but when a thug slashed open a sack and golden wheat grains spilled out in a gushing stream, the frenzy was fully ignited.

More and more thugs joined the assault. Starved to the point of madness, they felt no pain as they charged into the camp to fight the garrison.

"Retreat!"

The commanding general could sense his soldiers' fear. They couldn't keep fighting these lunatics.

While the garrison still had control of the situation, the general ordered his men to escort the money and pull back, leaving the camp's remaining grain for the thugs to fight over.

The blood-soaked food was looted in an instant. The thugs' eyes were nothing but greed.

They chased the retreating garrison, trying to rob the soldiers of their rations and reclaim the wealth that had been squeezed from them.

The army fought as it withdrew, until reinforcements from Winter Fortress arrived and killed many of the thugs. Only then did the mob scatter in all directions.

"What a bunch of madmen!"

By now, the commanding general and the Vincent Family's merchants were no longer smug.

They had squeezed out plenty of money at first, but they had underestimated the thugs' madness and overestimated their own deterrence.

They hadn't returned to Winter Fortress before the thugs went completely berserk, and they paid a heavy price.

With so many soldiers dead at Winter Fortress, it wouldn't be easy to answer to the Noble Council.

Even if they threw in all the money from this grain sale, it might not be enough to shut the higher-ups up.

The thought of having worked for nothing—or even taking a loss—darkened their faces.

They were used to the games of nobles, but in the lawless Odyssey Region, they had taken a brutal hit.