Game of the World Tree

【 WHAT DIGNIFIEDDEITIES, NOW SPIT ON THEM. 】

With a loud clatter, hundreds of gold coins spilled onto the ground, their dazzling shine immediately catching everyone’s attention.

Oh no! My gold pounds!

Seeing his wealth accidentally tumble out, Shalu’s face turned ashen.

But before he could even bend down to retrieve them, the elves had already scooped them up along with his club staff, claiming them as spoils of war.

“Haha! This is the first time I’ve seen a boss drop his loot even if he’s still alive! And it such a huge pile of gold coins too! This orcs’ totally loaded!”

One of the elves laughed as he picked up the coins.

Shalu: “…”

M-My gold coins…

His heart ached, but with his life on the line, Shalu dared not act rashly. All he could do was cast a pitiful gaze at the elf who had taken his gold.

However, before long, the atmosphere around him shifted dramatically. A sudden, suffocating pressure settled over the area, making his heart clench with premonition.

Then, two figures emerged—a black-haired youth alongside a busty red-haired dragon lady. They stepped forward, blocking the path of the elf who were picking up the gold coins on the ground.

Trailing behind them were several young dragons, trotting eagerly in their wake.

Their slitted eyes—just like those of the two in front—also remained fixed on the gold coins in the elf’s hands, exuding an overwhelming sense of pressure.

Shalu’s stomach dropped whilst a tidal wave of despair washed over him.

T-These two figures…

They exude terrifyingly powerful aura!

They surely must be Gold-rank experts!

With such powerful figures overseeing this battle, our tribe is definitely done for…

He then watched as the youth and the dragon lady silently gave the elf holding the gold coins a piercing cold stare.

The latter hesitated for a moment, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Then, in an obvious attempt to ingratiate himself, he quickly split the gold into two portions and offered them with both hands, forcing a nervous smile.

“L-Lord Meryer, Lady Tiberia, actually I was planning to give these gold coins to you two! H-Haha! Please, grant me your favor in the future…Oh, and maybe also share some of your dragon scales and saliva…?”

“…Not bad.”

“Hmph, this will do.”

The youth and the busty woman eventually both nodded approvingly, then exchanged sharp glances to one another before dividing the gold between them.

…Dragon scales and saliva?

Shalu froze, his gaze shifting back to the two lofty figures.

This time, he finally noticed their distinctly slit pupils, which were definitely not characteristic of any humanoid species.

Recalling the suffocating aura the two emitted and the many rumors circulating across the continent, his heart pounded violently.

An inexplicable fear crept over him.

Suddenly, a terrifying realization struck him.

D-Dragons!

These two were likely adult dragons but in their humanoid forms!

At that moment, Shalu fully abandoned any wayward thoughts of escaping.

Two fully matured dragons…

Encountering them here was far more terrifying than an ordinary Gold-rank expert!

He also knew one thing for certain—his precious gold coins were never coming back.

With all hope crushed, Shalu slumped to the ground, wrapping his arms around his head in surrender.

Within seconds, the elves swarmed him, stripping him of his equipment without hesitation.

His ceremonial robe? Gone.

His leather boots? Gone.

Even his beloved skull-shaped bone goblet—gone.

Left in nothing but his thin undergarments, Shalu simply sat there, dazed, as the elves, caught up in their frenzy, looted everything in sight.

By this point his tribe was completely finished.

The moment Shalu surrendered, his fellow tribesmen who are still fighting were struck with an overwhelming sense of despair. Seeing his shameful actions, many of them immediately lost their will to resist altogether.

Those who remained scattered in the vicinity quickly abandoned thoughts of fighting in favor of escape.

For an orc tribe, their chief priest was their heart and soul.

Therefore, the moment their chief priest surrendered, the surrounding Orcs’ spirit and courage crumbled into dust.

What followed was a one-sided crushing humiliation.

These evil elves grinned wickedly as they hunted down any fleeing orcs, pillaged the now-chaotic settlement, and stripped every surrendered orc of their armor, leaving them huddled together, shivering in the cold night winds of the desert.

As for Shalu, he could only gape in shock, watching in a daze as these elves reveled in their slaughter and plunder.

He wasn’t unfamiliar with such scenes.

Here in the Desert of Death, strength reigned supreme.

Even among the orc tribes, wars were common before the Lionheart King unified the region. To them, slaughter and plundering were simply part of life.

Many orcs accepted death with indifference—cowards like Shalu were the exception.

But… this was different.

Conflicts between tribes were treated as honorable battle among warriors but what was happening right now, however, was something else entirely…

In his memories, whenever orcs clashed with other races, their side were always the aggressors.

It was them, the orcs who raided villages and ambushed sanctuaries.

Yet now, it was as if the gods were playing a cruel joke upon them.

The hunters had become the hunted.

And the once defenseless prey had become the predators.

It was absurd but ironic.

The battle lasted another twenty minutes before it was completely over.

Their settlement here in the oasis was nothing more than ruins by now.

Aside from those who had managed to escape in the chaos and those who had died in the elves’ onslaught, only about a hundred of his fellow tribesmen still remained.

Moreover, among the survivors Shalu had also noticed seven or eight mercenaries from Sauron who had also surrendered just like him.

His tribe, which just a day ago had nearly a thousand members, had been almost completely wiped out in a single day.

Now, from his observation, a little over a hundred orcs and a handful of human mercenaries were left, bound together with ropes, dazed and terrified as they watched the elves clear the area.

Shalu looked around at his fellow captives and their eyes reflected confusion, disbelief and fear which was probably similar to his own.

To be honest, the number of these elves weren’t that many—fewer than three hundred based on his rough estimates.

But every single one of them was at least at the peak of Iron-rank, with over twenty of them being Silver-rankers.

But the most terrifying of all were those two figures!

The ones Shalu suspected were dragons in disguise.

Against such overwhelming force and a night raid carried out under a moonless sky, no less…his tribe’s defeat was inevitable.

Perhaps…only a great tribe, the one with Gold-rank warriors or a legendary-rank Behemoth, could have withstood such an attack.

No captives tried to escape.

Well, there was one, at first—a human.

But the moment he did so, the guy was immediately swarmed by elves on all sides and turned into a pincushion before his body disintegrated into ashes.

Seeing such spine chilling sight, the rest of his fellow captives abandoned any thoughts of resistance.

Now completely resigned to their fate, they could do nothing but huddle together, looking at each other with eyes filled with terror and uncertainty about their unforeseeable future.

Everyone here was painfully aware of the shameful acts they had committed against these elves in the past.

So if the rumors were true, the vengeance of these so-called evil elves was something to be truly feared.

I wonder what they’ll do to us…

Shalu inwardly thought as he cast a nervous glance at the surrounding elves.

༺⟐༻

While their prisoners trembled in dread, the players, on the other hand, were celebrating as if it were a festival.

“Hahaha! I knew it! Robbing the base of other factions really is the fastest way to get rich in this game!”

Gazing at the mountains of treasures piled outside the settlement and the twenty fully loaded wagons they had filled with materials looted from the area, the players’ faces were alight with joy.

Their Guildmaster, Little Salty Cat, was especially excited, her flushed cheeks glowing with exhilaration.

“Have we finished tallying everything? How much did we get in total?”

She turned to one of her guild member in charge of inventory.

The player nodded, his voice filled with barely contained excitement.

“We’re done counting, Guildmaster. We’ve hit the jackpot! Looks like we caught them just as a human caravan was visiting the tribe. Based on the logo on these wagons, they’re most likely from the Sauron Trade Group.”

“The loot we got is a mismatched assortment of materials, but the bulk of it consists of equipment, food, and beast hides.”

“We got over six hundred sets of orc gear, plus five hundred brand-new sets of Imperial-standard equipment! Each set is equivalent to our intermediate Iron-rank gear. If we convert everything to contribution points, we’re looking at a total of over ten million CP! Haha! That means each of us gets at least thirty to forty thousand contribution points!”

Little Salty Cat’s eyes lit up.

“Really? We looted that much?!”

“As expected…the silk road is paved with murder and arson.”

“This Desert of Death questline is turning out to be an epic event!”

“This desert map is so huge! we could probably do raid like this again and again on another tribe!”

“Absolutely!”

The surrounding players cheered as the one giving the report cleared their throat to regain their attention and continued.

“Ahem! As for food, we’re not exactly in short supply, but with more players joining in, it never hurts to have extra. And the beast hides… well, those…”

Little Salty Cat nodded as if she understood the underlying meaning.

These beast hides were a luxury item for the humans.

And from a player’s perspective, they actually looked quite nice. Even if they didn’t sell them to other factions, they could always develop some clothing designs for themselves and sell them to other players instead…

She made a mental note of it.

“Oh, right—one more thing, Guildmaster. We also rescued three elven natives who were being held captive. Chopin is with them now, comforting them.” the reporting player added.

Three Elven natives?

Little Salty Cat’s eyes lit up.

Now that was an unexpected bonus.

Rescuing natives significantly increased their faction reputation and an increased in their overall reputation score was directly tied to store discounts!

Not only that, but many rescued elves had a high chance of becoming NPCs that can give quest once they returned to the Elven Forest. Moreover, these NPCs would start off with maxed-out favorability toward their rescuers, making it incredibly easy to pick up personal quests from them.

Of course, even without the rewards, Little Salty Cat who no longer saw Elven Kingdom as just another game was more than happy to see more natives like this being saved.

“And lastly…”

The reporting player hesitated for a moment before glancing at the orcs and humans they took in as prisoners.

“We captured a total of 136 prisoners—128 orcs and 8 humans specifically. Their average strength is around intermediate Iron-rank, while most of them just as you ordered have low-levels of faith. Particularly among the humans, two are non-believers. None of them have serious injuries, just some minor wounds that are easily treatable. We were thoroughly selective in choosing the enemies we spare so these batch of prisoners will definitely make excellent laborers.”

Little Salty Cat nodded in satisfaction.

“Excellent.”

The number of prisoners they got was just the right amount to test whether her idea of using Orcs as laborers was actually feasible since it was still technically just a concept.

While it may seemed highly doable in theory, she didn’t want to go too big and risk complications as this was still just her initial attempt.

It’s better to start small and scale things up later on if it was actually proven that her idea is really going to work.

As for their faith…

Devout believers rarely surrendered, so most of the prisoners they had selected only have low-levels of faith.

Moreover, even if a devout believer had surrendered, no player would dare take them in. Since according to the game’s lore, devout believers will had their souls return to their gods’ divine kingdoms upon dying. So bringing such high-risk individuals back in their faction’s territory was definitely a no-no.

Still, what surprised Little Salty Cat the most in this whole operation was that this tribe’s head priest had surrendered without putting up a fight.

That was odd.

These Boss-class Priest NPCs, in theory, were supposed to be the most fanatical of believers. So they shouldn’t have been so quick to surrender like this.

It wasn’t until she used [Eye of Faith] to examine him that she finally understood why…

To her surprise, it turned out despite being a Silver-rank priest, this orc priest had low levels of faith!

At first, she thought she had made a mistake.

But she checked again. And again. And again…

By the time she was certain, the orc priest was already looking visibly uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

This was truly unexpected.

How did this particular orc, which was a mere shallow believer, actually managed to become one?

But regardless of his circumstances, this discovery made her abandon any thought of killing the guy.

A devout believer enemy was nearly impossible to convert, but those with low levels of faith like this Orc Priest were a different story.

This batch of over a hundred orcs was just her initial trial selection.

In her plans, only those willing to renounce their faith would be taken back as laborers.

As for those who resisted…

Well, bluntly speaking, they would simply become experience points and contribution rewards, so to speak.

Nevertheless, she was still taking a considerable risk since even these prisoners with low faith had the potential to become devout believers one day, given the right circumstances.

The faith mechanic of this game was really wonky, so it might take just a moment of desperation, a whisper of divine intervention, or the right manipulative figure to reignite and strengthen their low beliefs.

To mitigate this risk, Little Salty Cat initially thought the safest method would be to convert these orcs and humans to the elven faith instead.

However, this method will take too much time and she also didn’t want to dedicate her full attention into converting all the orcs and humans they will take in as prisoners, like reading them the holy codex or patiently waiting for them to eventually awaken their faith in the goddess.

No way. That’ll take too much time and effort!

What she needed was a quick and easy foolproof method to ensure these low-faith enemies would never regain nor strengthen their belief in their respective Patron Gods, no matter what happened.

After thinking hard about it…Little Salty Cat finally found a way to accomplish this.

With a mischievous grin, she whispered something into a nearby player’s ear. That player’s eyes widened in realization, and he quickly ran off somewhere.

A short while later, he finally returned holding two small statues in his hands.

The statues were hastily sculpted from dirt. They weren’t perfect, but they were quite decent imitations. For skilled players adept at earth magic, creating something like this was child’s play.

One statue depicted Uller, the God of Winter and Hunt which were the deity worshipped by the orcs.

The other represented Hödur, the Lord of Darkness and Shadows—the patron deity of these mercenaries from Sauron.

Unlike the sanctified statues placed in temples, these crude replicas had not been blessed by divine power and could not serve as vessels for divine descent.

But that wasn’t the point.

The symbolism was what mattered.

With a sweet smile, Little Salty Cat showed the two statues to the prisoners.

“Listen. Simply surrendering isn’t enough for us to spare you. If you all want to live, then each of you must completely abandon and sever your connections with your Gods. Not just in words, but in action.”

Little Salty Cat shook her head slowly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. She gestured toward the two crude statues in her hands.

“Here. These are the statues of your gods. This one, I believe, represents His Excellency Uller, the God of Orcs, and the other, His Excellency Hödur, the patron deity of you mercenaries from Sauron.”

She tapped a slender finger against her chin, tilting her head as if appraising their craftsmanship.

“Hmm…These two indeed do look dignified, befitting of their status as deities…don’t you think?”

Her voice was gentle, pleasant—even carrying a trace of playfulness as she toyed with the replicas, spinning them lightly in her hands.

After deliberately pausing for an added flair, she placed down the statues near the prisoners. Then, with a voice as sweet and saccharine as honey, Little Salty Cat ordered—

“Now everyone, spit on them~”

The Prisoners: “…”

I-Its the devil!

The devil himself had descended upon them through this petite cute looking elven girl!

— 497 —

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