We are Short-Eared Elf.
Seeing the dozens of hand crossbows and nearly a hundred mechanically cocked ballistae extending towards them, the dark mage and female assassin, who had shown no fear in their direct confrontation with the vampire duke and the Amber Dragon, wisely raised their hands.
These weapons certainly couldn't even break through their defenses, but objectively speaking, they were indeed in the wrong, so it was understandable that they couldn't take action.
This is a matter of politeness.
The politeness that follows unintentionally trespassing.
The black mage, the female assassin, and five surviving players, led by [ Vanilla Ice Cream Scoop ], along with two prisoners ( Kebola and Hall Number Three ) and a small mechanical fortress, are currently in a barbican surrounded by brick and stone walls several meters high.
At that moment, hundreds of fully armed city defense soldiers were either wielding repeating crossbows with quivers or operating mechanical crossbows, ready to release wild arrows towards the short, King of Fall Resistance, I Guess to create artificial hedgehogs.
The reason things turned out this way is quite simple. At that time, Aeldra's Thunderous Dragon Breath (a true, physical Thunderous Dragon Breath) was about to be unleashed. The mage could only use his Psionic Energy to locate the nearest human settlement and then use mass teleportation to teleport all targets, including himself, there on the spot.
Such a teleportation obviously cannot be notified to the other party in advance. In addition, since he had just been unsealed, his mastery of Psionic Energy was still a bit rusty. As a result, he did not land outside the city wall as expected. Instead, he appeared directly in the barbican between the two layers of city walls with the King of Fall Resistance, I Guess.
Then, with a loud shout of "This is Graycast Corridor Satellite City No. 42! Lay down your weapons, state your names and origins, and explain your purpose for being here!" the group realized something was amiss.
However, confident in their own strength, the two merely made a polite gesture of surrender without resisting, and even chose to answer questions first when asked by the defenders on the city wall.
The expected show of conviction did not materialize; instead, a guard captain on the city wall became even more enraged upon hearing this.
"Elves, and short ears too? Do you think our brains are rusty?"
One player frowned and unconsciously leaned closer to his companion's ear:
"Judging from the mechanical style of this equipment and the recent announcement, this should be the Graycast Corridor, right? How can the people in the Graycast Corridor be so rude?"
The player next to him looked closely and whispered in response:
"I remember reading travelogues from those big shots on the forum. It seems like this is the style of Graycast Corridor: efficiency above all else, no nobles, a thriving internal economy, and a general foul mouth... and something else I've forgotten."
"Ah, has anyone been to the Graycast Corridor before?"
"Of course there are! You don't know? It's those three big shots: [ Shit Appraisal Master ], [ Lion Hidden in the Eyes ], and [ Traditional Eccentric Wheel ]. It's a pity they all just died, otherwise, they might have been able to get through this hurdle by just having connections."
"Is that so? I'll check the forum history after I log off today."
A player whose worldview had been completely redefined made a note of this incident, and subsequently raised both hands above their head in a gesture of surrender.
Having been a fan of " World of Disorder " for so long, I've never been a prisoner yet, it's definitely worth a try!
"Um?"
The young mage was slightly taken aback by the garrison's unexpected response, but remained calm overall.
He simply said to the hot-tempered captain of the guard on the city wall:
"Please summon your city lord. We have something to discuss with him; it's urgent information regarding the vampire grand duke."
The Graycast Corridor has been fighting against the Blood Corpse for over half a century; no matter what the problem is, it is secondary in the face of the Blood Corpse problem.
After confirming that the group of people who had suddenly appeared could communicate normally and that they possessed information related to the Blood Corpse, he quickly turned and left, his loud voice following behind:
"I'll go inform the city lord, vice captain. You can continue your questioning!"
The vice-captain, whose name had been called, pointed his weapon at the [ Vanilla Ice Cream Scoop ].
"You, continue."
"Um, the five of us are Soul Returner from the Second Holy See. You should have heard of the Second Holy See, right? A few months ago, the Second Holy See sent an envoy to the Graycast Corridor and purchased a lot of special products and supplies in the Great Labyrinth City, such as mechanical arms..."
Although [ Vanilla Ice Cream Scoop ] spends most of his time in his own Greenhouse buying things for his hobby, he is not completely ignorant of the game's plot.
In addition, Zhongdeng his random visits, which gave her a general understanding of the plot of the previous events.
At this moment, [ Vanilla Ice Cream Scoop ] was racking his brains trying to rationalize the group's sudden visit and resolve the matter without causing diplomatic problems.
"Oh, right, that's not all. The Second Holy See has already signed a defensive alliance with the Graycast Corridor and successfully established a trade route, although that route was only used once before it was cut off..."
[ Vanilla Ice Cream Scoop ] Her voice trailed off, but realizing this, she suddenly raised her voice:
"In any case, the Second Holy See and the Graycast Corridor are true friends, and we have come here with no ill intentions."
The vice-captain on the city wall remained noncommittal in response to the [ Vanilla Ice Cream Scoop ].
He was just a deputy captain of the city defense team. Even if he was persuaded, he had no say in the decision-making process. At this moment, all he could do was to perform his duties diligently, neither letting his guard down nor deliberately making things difficult for these unexpected visitors.
"Alright, then the five of you have finished. Let's continue. Who are the other two?"
Upon hearing that it was finally his turn, Kebola Coppola, entangled in layers of vines, shouted at the top of his lungs:
"Listen up, you half-machine monsters! I am Marquis Kebola of the Eternal Domain, a powerful kin blessed by the Immortal King himself! You lowly commoners, go and contact the Eternal Domain immediately! I must return to report to His Majesty!"
As soon as he finished speaking, an arrogant expression appeared on Kebola's face.
He scanned the guards on the city walls, trying to see in their faces the same awe that was common among commoners and serfs in the Eternal Domain.
However, that wasn't the case; all he saw were countless excited expressions.
The vice-captain asked somewhat excitedly:
"Are you a nobleman from the Eternal Domain?"
"Yes, please address me as Marquis Kebola."
"So, do you know how to do that?"
The vice-captain gestured from the city wall:
"It's the one that died, its whole body glowed, and then its fragments gathered from the surrounding area, bringing it back to life..."
Kebola, of course, knew what the other person was talking about, and nodded confidently:
"Of course, this is a great gift from the Twin Kings..."
Upon hearing the word "of course," the vice-captain immediately raised his right hand and swung it down heavily.
"Shoot him dead!"