About an hour later, the five hundred warriors completed the customization of their Hoofed Beast, and Gray had also packed his things. So, under the moonlight, the group left Valhalla in a grand procession and embarked on their journey to the Great Labyrinth City of the Graycast Corridor.
On the other side of the Wilderness of Chaos, the Graycast Corridor that come into the night do not appear so peaceful and stable.
Countless tiny fortresses are speeding along the roads between the satellite cities.
This fortress is much smaller than the King of Fall Resistance, I Guess, and its capacity is limited to one adult plus some cargo.
Its overall design lacks even layering; it consists only of a steering structure at the front and a power unit at the rear containing several Blood Corpse, making it resemble a motorcycle more than a fortress.
Amidst the Blood Corpse ' wailing and howling, the Blood Corpse motorcycle carrying urgent mail from Satellite City No. 42 sped along the widest road toward the Great Labyrinth City.
Mountains, ravaged by the Demonic Tide and barren of vegetation, flashed past him, like giant beasts lurking in the darkness.
In the darkness, the driver saw a light in the distance; the familiar red light seemed to indicate that it was one of his colleagues.
He pulled down a lever as usual, and a high-pitched roar came from the Blood Corpse room behind him.
A similar response came quickly from the other side, accompanied by flashing red lights.
That means everything is normal.
Thinking this, the driver of Satellite City No. 42, who was delivering the message, stepped on the gas again, increasing his speed.
The Messenger who passed by did not stop. He reached out and twisted the optical mechanism similar to a "lens" on his right eye, and a magnified, semi-transparent map was projected into his field of vision.
After a detailed comparison, the Messenger felt much more at ease—they should be arriving soon.
If all goes well, we might even be able to rest in Satellite City No. 42 in the latter half of the night.
That's great news!
The turbulent night passed quickly, and the next morning, around dusk in reality, the fully charged players logged back in.
The familiar fortress, the familiar barbican, and the familiar sight of ballistae pointed at us—everyone was used to it.
However, there are still some things I can't get used to, such as those two Short-Eared Elf.
While the Soul Returner were under heavy guard all night, the two Short-Eared Elf clearly received the best hospitality from Satellite City No. 42 and Collins, and looked much better than when the seal was broken yesterday.
Upon seeing the Short-Eared Elf arrive, the four members of [ Do Some Farm Work ], who had just logged back in, immediately came to him and said earnestly:
"We have completed our investigation and can confirm that with your awakening, the symptoms that lingered in most people's subconscious have completely disappeared."
Another Soul Returner, saying:
"Yes, I asked a friend to ask many people, from Low Tier to Middle Tier Supreme, and they can all say the word ' Short-Eared Elf ' normally now."
"Is that so? Then it seems I don't need to worry about this anymore."
The elven mage said with a smile:
"I didn't expect to cause so much trouble for everyone. I will remember my promise. I owe you all a favor, and you can contact me anytime to repay it, as long as it doesn't violate my principles."
Upon seeing this intangible reward confirmed and paid, the players were overjoyed.
[ Do Some Farm Work ] thought for a moment and suddenly asked:
"I wonder what your plans are next? You two are heroes who sealed away the vampire grand duke; the Son of God should want to see you."
The two Short-Eared Elf exchanged a glance upon hearing this, and the elven mage continued with a smile:
"Don't worry, our itineraries overlap in the short term—aren't you planning to go to the Great Labyrinth City? I also need to go there to see some old friends."
"After this trip, we'll visit that Son of God again. If there's nothing else, we'll return to Elf Island again, as there might be other matters that require our attention there."
"Once all these things are done, it'll be time to settle the score with the vampires."
Hearing the other party's undisguised intention to form an alliance, the players' eyes lit up with excitement.
This is the Elf King! Does that mean they're going to try and recruit such a powerful figure into their camp?
Who would dare not call me "Top HR"? Even [ Zhong Lele ] would only be a private in front of me!
Just then, Lord Collins suddenly appeared at the entrance to the inner walled city.
Today he was wearing a set of not-too-heavy mechanical armor, and his height was only about two meters.
Even so, the other person still exuded an undeniable sense of seriousness.
Of course, this might also be related to the solemn expression on his face at this moment. He was holding a thin piece of paper in his hand as he walked towards the crowd.
"Latest update--"
He looked at everyone, his gaze settling on the [ Vanilla Ice Cream Scoop ], as if his next words were specifically addressed to her.
Collins said seriously:
"The third round of candidate qualification verification will be held in the Great Labyrinth City in three days, and voting will officially begin in five days. The candidate with the most votes will become the next Grand Foundry Master."
"What?"
Everyone gasped in astonishment, and immediately began to chatter amongst themselves, offering their opinions:
"So fast?"
"Is this public notice period only two days? What can you possibly do with that?"
"Wait, you mean your Grand Foundry Master is actually elected by the people?"
Players focused on different things, but they were all clearly shocked by the event.
Collins ' expression didn't suggest he was completely accepting of it.
He pondered and said:
"From my perspective, it's hard to say whether this is right or wrong. I can't go into the details with you, and this is the first time we've changed Grand Foundry Master, so we're still figuring out many procedures."
The players nodded thoughtfully, while [ Do Some Farm Work ], having experienced the entire process of getting ashore in another world, began to ponder a different question—
Although the Graycast Corridor was not a particularly powerful force, its area was equivalent to the combined area of three or four provinces.
In the real world, this is already the size of a country that is neither too big nor too small.
Having controlled this power for decades, the Grand Foundry Master could not possibly be a fool. But the fact that he, she, it, or it is so impatient to push forward the election of the next Grand Foundry Master is enough to show that there must be something going on.
What could it be?
[ On the Do Some Farm Work ] glanced at Collins and noticed that although the other man's face seemed relaxed, his brows were always slightly furrowed.
It seems the old man had guessed something.
The only thing that could make a powerful figure so anxious, after much thought, is this: [ Do Some Farm Work ]
Is the Grand Foundry Master going to die?