Flames spread across the road like lamplight, and these torches provided Li Ziran with his only illumination.
Within that light, squads of Centaur warriors wielding spears hurried back and forth along the road.
They stormed into shop after shop like bandits, dragged out everyone inside, and lined all manner of creatures along both sides of the street entrance.
This was highly abnormal.
Mading'er Town's current thriving trade scene owed much to the Centaurs' kindness.
Though Centaurs did use force, it was only when defending their city-state.
They had never drawn their spears on guests. They carried their "kindness" to the utmost extreme.
That was also the fundamental reason Mading'er Town had flourished in the Wasteland.
The population gathered in this small town was at least ten times that of Black Wolf Territory. Most laborers in the Wasteland would travel thousands of miles across dangerous wasteland regions to make a living in Mading'er.
This place had more ordinary creatures than anywhere else in the entire Wasteland.
Yet now, these ordinary creatures who created value for Mading'er stood like slaves on both sides of the street, while the kind Centaurs hurried through their own town with spears in hand.
Others might overlook it, but Li Ziran knew this should never have happened.
Such bizarre behavior instantly made Li Ziran realize that something unusual had just occurred—and it had changed the situation in this town.
He lightly sniffed. The air was thick with the strange stench of fire and scorching, yet amid those smells lingered a particular fresh fragrance.
That fragrance resembled the natural scent emitted by trees.
Instinctively, he sharpened his focus. As an Organ Witch Doctor, he could distinguish the body fragrances of all kinds of creatures. It was basic training.
This particular scent could only naturally arise from a species that spent all year dealing with trees and forests.
To put it bluntly, this scent had no business appearing in the Wasteland.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
At that moment, a long row of fireballs tore through the dark night sky with shrieking whistles. A triangular tower beside the Windmill was instantly swallowed by flames.
Fire magic!
The entire mill burst apart like a bomb, debris spraying everywhere as it gradually turned to ashes amid the crackling blaze.
Bang, bang, bang!
The knocking grew fiercer. The Centaur owner was clearly becoming anxious. "Sir, can you hear me? Some Elves want to inspect the place. Don't worry—so long as you haven't come into contact with Elves, you'll be fine."
That simple sentence instantly allowed Li Ziran to understand the situation.
Elves!
Elves had come to this town.
Had the town already fallen under Elven control? Otherwise, the Centaurs would not be acting so abnormally.
To occupy a Wasteland town so openly could only mean his luck was terrible—he had happened to encounter the great wave of Elven Pilgrimage.
Everyone believed that when Elves left the tropical rainforest, they became a lavish feast for Wasteland slave caravans. But Li Ziran had never thought so.
He would never believe Elves were like Pigman beasts in pens, free for others to slaughter at will.
These were Elves, the favored children of the Elemental Tide.
They possessed power that every creature had to respect.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!
The knocking grew increasingly urgent, leaving Li Ziran no time to assess the situation. The Centaur owner was practically about to kick down the door.
"Sir, did you hear me?"
"Oh, I heard you. Let me put my clothes on. This girl..." Li Ziran hurriedly answered, but when he looked at the two bloody frogs on the large round bed, he instantly fell into despair.
Elves were not as peace-loving and nature-loving as the legends claimed.
In Li Ziran's impression, they were a race selfish and closed off to the extreme.
Relying on their overwhelming elemental power, they huddled within the rainforest and forbade any creature from trespassing upon that territory.
Everyone in the slave trade knew that every year, slave caravans lost in the rainforest could rank among the top five sources of losses.
The greater the power, the harder it was to restrain.
This fit the Elves perfectly. Even the most ordinary Elf would become an Intermediate Mage upon adulthood. It was precisely this foundation that allowed them to roam freely through the Wasteland without restraint.
Li Ziran had once seen a group of Flower Elves from afar. They summoned enormous Carnivorous Flower vines and devoured an entire village clean.
Only because the creatures in that village had been tainted by the scent of Flower Elves.
Elves ranked first when it came to their hostility toward slave merchants. They would use every possible means to seek out those who might traffic Elves.
Their method was quite simple.
Magic!
The magic every Elf was born controlling.
Li Ziran glanced outside again. Those constantly moving fire-torches were clearly the work of Fire Elves.
These fellows could use noses sharper than even Doug's to smell out the unique scent of Elves.
He had just dissected an Ancient Elf. He carried two Elfstones, and he had even soaked in the Elf's rotting corpse for an entire afternoon.
The Elven scent on him was like a lamp in the dead of night—terrifyingly conspicuous.
Li Ziran laughed bitterly to himself. If he stood before the Elves, he would probably be turned into a torch in an instant.
He could not help growing angry. Why had such a sudden change happened for no reason? Couldn't they at least let him finish the surgical transplant properly?
He was destined not to meet the Elves.
Or... should he escape?
But Mading'er Town had already completely fallen. Elves were everywhere. The moment he, such a giant light bulb, stepped outside, he would be walking straight into the net.
"Oh, sir, hurry up. If those Elves get tired of waiting, they'll kill people." The Centaur was extremely anxious. Even through the door, Li Ziran could hear him stomping outside.
"Right away!" Li Ziran heavily stomped twice on the floor. "I'm putting on my shoes. You know how troublesome women are. Wait for me to open the door!"
How could he dare open it? Even if he could conceal the surgical scene, the bloody smell and the dense scent of the Ancient Elf could not possibly be hidden.
Running was completely unrealistic.
But letting the Elves see him was even less realistic.
This was a deadlock.
"Wait a moment!" Li Ziran hurriedly took Nicole down from the hanging hook and carefully applied protective fluid.
The surgery could no longer continue. He needed to flee as quickly as possible.
"Ah, your luck really couldn't be any worse!" Li Ziran flicked Nicole's stomach and kept smiling bitterly.
He had come to such a remote place for surgery, avoided Neon Magus, only to inexplicably end up on the route of an Elven pilgrimage procession.
He truly did not know what to blame. Fate was impossible to fathom; no one knew when the next misfortune would arrive.
The only thing one could do was make their mind work at full capacity when misfortune descended.
"Sir, aren't you ready yet?" The Centaur had completely lost patience. "Forgive my offense." With that, all four of his hooves kicked the wooden door.
In an instant, the fragile wooden door crumbled like earth collapsing and mountains breaking apart, and he charged straight in amid flying splinters.
He wanted to offer an apology, but what met his eyes was not the ambiguous scene he had imagined.
Instead, he saw a grown man stuffing frogs into his clothes, while the carefully arranged large round bed was bright red and covered in blood.
"You... this..."
That brief hesitation cost him his chance at escape. Oily green mucous membranes spread across his body like ants, his form rapidly shrank, and he turned into a frog.
Li Ziran quickly walked over, picked him up, and hung him at his waist. He took out a red string, tied it around the frog's hind leg, and hung it at the small of his back.
Yet there was little joy in his heart. Dealing with a mill old man did not help his current crisis in the slightest.
The noise of the door being smashed alarmed the Centaur captain on the first floor. He shouted upstairs, "What happened?" When no reply came for a long time, he motioned for the Centaur soldiers to go up and take a look.
The Elves beside him had already become alert.
The thudding footsteps climbing the stairs were like the whistle of doomsday. Through the shattered doorway, tall Centaur figures could already be seen by the spiraling railing.
He had been exposed.
And he had no choice but to face them.
Li Ziran gathered a Transformation Array. The instant these people came up, he had to transform into a frog with perfect precision.
Attacking Centaur soldiers would be equivalent to telling the Elves that resistance existed here. What awaited him would be more Elven mages.
He knew the Transformation Spell, but the Elves' outstanding magic resistance would greatly weaken its effectiveness.
A single fireball would be enough to take Li Ziran's life with ease.
Li Ziran stared fixedly at the doorway. He needed to stake his life on this, silently transforming these Centaurs into frogs.
Using that brief gap in time, he would escape the Windmill, slip into the slave market, hide in some secret corner, and find a way to leave Mading'er.
He needed to grasp every detail. This was a path to survival, but it was dangerous.
The Centaurs' voices drew closer and closer. It seemed that at any moment, those tall figures would appear in the doorway.
Li Ziran hid behind the door and concentrated on distinguishing the sounds. At that moment, he felt like a special police officer—soon, he would execute a beautiful turn and fire his Transformation Spell like a bullet, transforming the enemy in an instant.
Unfortunately, that was only his imagination.
One step!
Two steps!
Three steps!
Li Ziran counted silently in his heart, the palm gripping his wand already sweating.
"They're here!"
Li Ziran sensed the crisp sound of Centaur hooves stepping onto the floorboards.
He jumped, turned, and pointed his wand forward.
[Shapeshifting Curse: Frog]
The light point of the Transformation Spell shot out along a perfect trajectory, but just as Li Ziran believed the transformation would happen silently—
One Centaur unusually lowered his head, and the transformation light point grazed the mane on his forehead before flying past.
Damn it!
The Centaurs' reaction speed was too fast. Their special pupils could discern certain magical trajectories, giving them a chance to evade some spells.
[Shapeshifting Curse: Frog]
Li Ziran had no choice but to cast the Transformation Spell again. This time, the Frog Transformation did not miss.
But it was already useless.
That fellow let out a cry, enough to tell the Elves something had changed here.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
Li Ziran could now clearly hear the sounds of people rushing upstairs, every step seeming to trample upon his heart.
He bent down, picked up the two frogs, and hung them at the small of his back, but his entire body had gone rigid.
Just now, that had been his instinct for collecting slaves. But what now?
Die?
Would he simply let the Elves turn him into a giant torch?
He was lost, even somewhat afraid.
Like a child who had made a mistake, he stared at the end of the spiral staircase and quietly awaited doomsday.
Squeak!
A strange cry shattered his dazed state. Turning his head, he saw two rats fighting over his bread.
After Li Ziran looked over, the two rats hurriedly burrowed beneath the large round bed.
Rats?
In that instant, an idea suddenly sprang into Li Ziran's mind.
Listening to the sounds drawing ever closer, he could no longer care whether the idea was feasible.
He immediately pointed his wand at himself. In an instant, black viscous fluid wrapped around his body, slowly stretching it out. His limbs degenerated, and he became a slender Black-Spotted Snake.
He flicked out his forked tongue, then followed the rats' trail and slithered beneath the large round bed.
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