Night closed the baron’s diary, reviewing the key contents in his mind and confirming he had memorized them. Then, he set the entire notebook ablaze, watching it slowly turn to ashes, leaving not even a shred of paper behind, before stirring it all into the murky water.
The unique trinkets from Darul’s backpack were left in place, while Night submerged the body along with these items into a deep swamp hundreds of meters away from the scene.
In a day or two, all traces of the baron in the black swamp would be naturally erased, and no one would be able to trace what had happened. Baron Darul Kurass would be marked as missing on the vampire list. This situation was not uncommon, including the still-unknown whereabouts of the Blackwing King Andua.
Night carefully stowed away the rune fragment. He didn’t know if the information from the baron’s diary was true, nor if the seemingly genuine rune fragment was indeed part of a key. The dark races’ treasure-hunting hobby was well-known even among humans, with many rumors surfacing each year, some of which seemed so real until they turned out to be mere jokes.
However, this matter was too significant, especially since the dark races’ war had such an absurd reason from the human perspective. After much deliberation, Night decided it was best to keep it to himself, unable to consult anyone. Treasures like these could easily bring unforeseen disasters.
But the loot in front of Night was quite impressive. Both pistols were top-notch, signed by renowned craftsmen. If sold at an auction in the Empire, they could fetch at least three thousand or more. The noble descendants who adored firearms had ample time and energy to verify the signatures on the pistols. If they turned out to be prestigious names, the price might soar to over five thousand.
However, such a profit was only a dream. Since Night had to keep the baron’s secret, these items could only be treated as unknown stolen goods. Even through Song Zining’s channels, selling each for two thousand would be a good deal.
With the lesson from the Twin Blossoms, Night would never seek trouble again.
A fourth-grade dagger, easy to carry in various situations, combined with the elegant style of the vampires, would be a popular item. The demand for long swords would be narrower but not impossible to sell, while the third-grade armor had little market value.
The core value of armor lay in its origin force array, but the bloodline’s origin force array, driven by blood power, would be less effective for other types of dark origin force and even less for dawn origin force. For others, it was useless, but for Night, there was no such obstacle. He kept it for personal use.
He calculated the value of the origin force guns and knives, finding it barely satisfactory—enough for his “Dark Flame Mercenary Corps” to develop for half a year. Development, not just subsistence.
Another wealth left by Baron Darul was a detailed map of the black swamp, marking three safe routes. These paths were undoubtedly the work of spider demons; the giant swamp spiders were the dominant force in the marsh, allowing the dark races to cross the black swamp and appear on the flanks of human defenses.
But the environment of the black swamp was truly harsh, particularly the foul smell, which was lethal to all life forms, especially unbearable for vampires and demons. If not for the allure of the Black King’s treasure, even an explorer like Baron Darul would not venture here.
This route map changed Night’s initial plan to just familiarize himself with the terrain. The vast swamp area also provided ample space for movement. He decided to delve deeper, not only to verify the map but also to see if there were opportunities to ambush the dark races.
As he continued into the swamp late at night, Night encountered numerous attacks from the native creatures.
Where there were blood vines, there were flying insects, and occasionally, horned snakes. Night, of course, would not be bitten again, crushing their organs with his radiant teeth. A complete horned snake, with its skin, gall, horns, and venom glands, could fetch a high price, at least dozens of gold coins per snake.
Over the course of the night, Night dug up over a dozen blood vines and caught three horned snakes, a small but welcome addition. But for quick money, nothing compared to ambushing a high-level vampire. This made Night feel reflective.
Yet, it was a baron. Had he not been too careless and fallen into Night’s trap, it might have been Night being hunted deep in the swamp. Once Darul decided to turn him into a progeny, he might strike anytime.
Further in, Night faced an attack from a group of swamp crocodiles, slaying several to drive them back. Then he encountered a small, palm-sized fish that could bite through ordinary leather armor.
Hand-sized spiders, meter-long black leeches, and unnamed giant insects appeared in abundance.
The swamp crocodile skins, the fish eggs, and the spider silk could all fetch decent prices. Night now understood why so many scavengers and herbalists flocked to Black Mud Town. The blood vines and materials in his backpack could change the lives of dozens of scavengers.
These scavengers, lured by rumors, dreamed of luck striking them, hoping to find blood vines without horned snakes or fresh fish eggs. But reality was cruel, with luck rarely favoring them, while danger was always present.
Every year, thousands of scavengers died in the black swamp, with only a few actually getting rich. Yet, the stories of these lucky few spread widely, convincing people that luck was common. The thousands who perished were forgotten by greed.
The graveyard outside Black Mud Town was a silent witness, containing the bodies found, but most of the scavengers who died in the swamp were never seen again.
People’s attitudes towards luck were like blind lovers, seeking momentary joy without considering the long-term cost. It seemed that mixed emotions weren’t pure, but was a relationship without responsibility right?
Further ahead, Night saw dozens of towering black stone pillars standing in a low-lying area. The ground between the pillars was flat and dry, surrounded by hundreds of varying-sized pits.
Seeing these pillars, Night grew wary, concealing his presence and observing quietly. Finding nothing unusual, he cautiously approached.
Within ten meters of the stone pillars, the air became suddenly dry, and the terrain was a few centimeters higher than the surroundings. Night picked up a handful of soil from a pit, noting the blackened eggshells.
This confirmed that the pits were dug by the spider demons’ servant spiders for rest, and the eggshells were their eggs. If the hatched spiders survived, they became new servants; if not, they were eaten to nourish the others.
In the center of the pillars, remnants of a campsite could be seen. From the traces, it appeared that the last occupants were spider demons and werewolves.
This pillar formation was a dark race encampment in the black swamp, providing a resting place for the armies crossing the marsh. The black stone pillars, designed ingeniously, formed a natural origin force array in a way humans couldn’t replicate, requiring only a small amount of black crystal to operate for years, creating a dry and comfortable camp.
Night examined the camp traces without touching anything, his furrowed brows slightly relaxing. The camp had not been used for a long time. Before exiting the swamp, this was the last suitable place for a large encampment.
Night recalled the markings on the baron’s black swamp map, identified the direction, and headed towards another campsite.
Without the map, he wouldn’t have known that the dark races had already set up five camps in the black mud swamp, planning to build a sixth. This was a prelude to deploying armies through the marsh. Judging by the scale of the camps, Night knew his small group could not hold Black Mud Town.
The path in the swamp became increasingly difficult, with the deep swamp’s carrying capacity lower. Even with Night’s reflexes and abilities, he had to be extra cautious, nearly sinking into the deep swamp several times. He carefully observed the plants ahead to judge the ground’s stability.
Out of caution, Night did not follow the established dark race paths but moved along the sides. This way, if a dark race force passed, he could spot them first without revealing his presence.
Reaching the second camp, Night found no signs of the dark races. As he left, he suddenly sensed a dangerous presence. Without hesitation, he dropped to the muddy water, quickly submerging his entire body, eyes just above the surface.
The once calm water rippled, and Night heard a faint rustling. A large group of deep gray, face-sized spiders swam past, their long legs moving swiftly, almost gliding on the water.
These gray spiders, descendants of the giant swamp spiders, were not as terrifying but thrived in large numbers, highly adapted to swamps and shallow lakes. They were acutely sensitive and skilled at detecting movement.
All the native creatures in the swamp, like Night, hid, and the commotion of fleeing animals covered his submersion. Remaining motionless, Night blended into the surroundings, and the gray spiders passed without noticing a thing.
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