Pioneer Lord: I Have Conquering System

"Lord, may I leave now?" the parched Demon Wizard asked with a look of reverence, though inwardly he was seething with venomous hatred.

"Leave?"

The tent instantly filled with everyone’s raucous laughter. The Lord said with a smile, "My apologies, but I am not a follower of the Ice and Snow Goddess."

"Despicable, shameless..."

"Hog, drag it out. I don’t care what tortures you use. I have only one standard for tonight: I want to fall asleep to the sound of its beautiful screams." Before the creature could unleash a torrent of Abyssal slang, the Lord leaned back, his tone icy. "I enjoy screams to help me sleep, and a demon’s are the best!"

Although the Lord liked to collect rural Shamans and Wizards to fill the ranks of High Cliff Castle’s Casting Corps, he didn’t just accept any riffraff.

The moment this Demon Wizard described to his face how he had tortured Andao to death, he had landed on the Lord’s kill list.

But to just kill it like that would be letting it off too easily. Levi wasn’t about to let it die a simple death.

Andao had been one of the few nobles Levi was on relatively good terms with. He would consider this revenge on his behalf.

"Lord, we’ll be sure to satisfy you." Hog grinned savagely, stuffed a smelly sock into the demon’s mouth, tied its hands and feet, and pushed it out.

Casters need to chant Spells to perform Casting, so stuffing its mouth made it as harmless as a de-fanged tiger.

"I’m going too."

The surrounding Jackal Wolfmen spectators also scurried away in a flash. When it came to torture, they were very experienced.

That night, the remaining few demons were interrogated. After confirming the information collected was accurate, the few Little Demons were pushed out and beheaded.

He had to rush back to Kolon early the next morning, so the Lord went to bed early. The first half of the night was filled with the most vicious curses in the Abyssal Language; the second half was nothing but screams and wails.

The Lord just scratched his ass, rolled over, and continued to sleep soundly with his head under the covers.

It wasn’t until the sky grew hazy and a sliver of light appeared on the horizon that he stepped out of his tent, stretched lazily, and let out a solid yawn.

He didn’t know why, but he had slept especially soundly last night.

"Lord, that demon couldn’t hold on and died this morning." Hog came to report at the perfect time and also recounted what had happened.

During the first half of the night, soldiers from the Thorn Corps had participated, using whips, leg vices, and branding irons. Hog was even more vicious; not only did he rub salt into the wounds,

he also summoned a few Warg Mounts to continuously lick the Demon Wizard’s body and skull. These Warg Mounts had sharp barbs on their tongues, and each lick was no less painful than being scraped by a Steel Blade, tearing off large chunks of flesh.

In the end, this Demon Wizard watched as the flesh of its body was devoured, its skull scraped open, and its brain licked clean, bit by bit, by the Warg Mounts.

The Lord gave a thumbs-up. Hog might have looked simple and honest, but he was unexpectedly a ruthless character.

The nearly ten thousand demon corpses burned for a day and a night and still weren’t finished. Originally, everyone had planned to just leave and let them burn on their own.

But at the Lord’s strong insistence, Fujero ultimately left behind a hundred-man cavalry squad, responsible for guarding the fires until the demons were completely reduced to ash before they could return to Kolon.

Levi lay on Biefeng’s broad back after it had grown larger, chewing on a blade of grass and enjoying the gentle morning breeze, but he was actually studying his system’s troops.

The gains from this battle were astonishing, even greater than when he had led the Barbarians in the city sieges before.

Although they had conquered two fortified cities and a small town, the number of enemies High Cliff Castle’s forces had killed was not much higher than the number of demons slain here.

After all, during the capture of Black Stone Castle, High Cliff Castle had just been coasting the whole time, only to pluck the fruit of victory at the end due to a fortunate turn of events.

It was more or less the same situation at Kolon; they hadn’t fought many truly hard battles.

But these nearly ten thousand demons had been well and truly annihilated, and close to seventy percent of them had become souls reaped by the blades of the Centaurs and Jackal Wolfmen.

When they headed south, these two hundred Jackal Wolf Scouts and three hundred Centaurs were all Tier Three Soldiers.

This one battle allowed nearly half of the Jackal Wolfmen and Centaurs to level up.

Now, the Jackal Wolfmen had advanced from the Tier Three "Jackal Wolfman Rider" to the Tier Four "Jackal Wolfman Rangers," and the Centaurs had advanced from the Tier Three "Centaur Gun Cavalry" to the Tier Four "Charging Heavy Centaur Cavalry."

One must understand that every advancement in a soldier’s tier is a massive improvement, the most obvious of which are greater speed and greater Power.

This also caused Fujero to watch the running Centaurs and Jackal Wolfmen with a puzzled expression, feeling that their movements seemed more agile than before, possessing a sense of effortless ease.

This confusion quickly dissipated. Compared to such a small question, the problems of the southern campaign were clearly more pressing.

On the return journey, hooves flew and banners fluttered. As the vanguard, they raced back to Kolon before noon without a single look back.

As the sun hung low and the horizon burned crimson, an army with vibrant banners marched out from Kolon once more, following the road south like a winding Giant Beast that stretched to the edge of sight...

...

It was a commonly held belief that Debei had not been peaceful in recent years.

First, the King, who was given to drink and pleasure, ignored the affairs of state and even added all sorts of bizarre taxes to fund his hedonism. It was rumored that he even did something as absurd as spending one hundred thousand Gold Coins to build a Ten Thousand Flower Garden to house rare beauties collected from every Race.

This led the increasingly powerful Holy Sith Kingdom to believe that King Debei was an incompetent ruler, causing border friction to intensify dramatically in recent years.

Next were all sorts of major and minor Celestial Calamities and man-made disasters. This was capped by a harsh winter this year that lasted for nearly a full year, completely incensing the common people. Rumors even spread among the populace that His Majesty was without virtue, and that was why the Deities had sent down so many punishments.

Now, creatures like Demons, which had been gone for a thousand years, had even appeared. Say nothing of others, but the soldiers of the Southern Territory cursed this bastard-born King day and night.

White Bone Fortress. This border fortress was now surrounded by a boundless Demon Army, so tightly that not even a drop of water could trickle through. This was clearly a massive war that should have drawn the world’s attention, yet they seemed to have been collectively forgotten.

They had lost count of how many times the Demons had organized a siege, and they had lost count of how many times they had repelled them. The reinforcements they had been desperately awaiting had only amounted to a few hundred Griffin Knights.

After that, there was no news of any more reinforcements. It was as if they had all stepped into a world cut off from the outside.

If the enemy weren’t Demons with whom it was impossible to negotiate peace, they probably would have surrendered long ago.

Damon stood on the battlements of White Bone Fortress, quietly watching the vast fields outside the city, now occupied by red monsters. They stared greedily at the isolated fortress, waiting for the next attack. The face of this "Highland Golden Lion" was completely calm.

He knew that just as the enemy had failed to take White Bone Fortress in their previous attempts, they would not succeed this time either. The defenders within the city were still sufficient. The only worry was that supplies had become extremely tight.

If reinforcements didn’t arrive within half a month, the more than one hundred thousand defenders of White Bone Fortress would all starve to death here.

Standing beside him were a middle-aged man, an old man, and a little girl.

"The Demons guarding that Space Channel are too numerous. Even with the help of Master Bodoff and Her Highness Fatir, we couldn’t get within five li." The commander of the Griffin Knight Order, Lancelot, sighed. There was a deep gash on his armor running from his shoulder to his waist.

It almost made one wonder if he had nearly been sliced in half with a single blow.

"Although this old man has the ability to close that Space Channel, we can’t even get close. My ability is useless if I can’t reach it." Bodoff was a tall, elderly man with white hair and a long beard. He wore a white Mage Robe and a Wizard Hat.

Just from his attire, it wasn’t hard to guess that he was a Caster from a Mage Tower, and a high-ranking one at that.

"At this point, we should just call for aid. Closing the Space Channel to the Abyss is already beyond our capabilities."

Fatir was still wearing her familiar Bishop’s Robe and Bishop’s Hat. Beneath her gilded mask, her small, cherry-like lips opened and closed gently, but her tone remained calm.

It seemed that no matter how difficult the situation became, she was incapable of any emotional fluctuation.

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