Chapter 1168: Chapter 1168

1168: Chapter 1154: Fear 1168: Chapter 1154: Fear Fishman Lord Shackda was very excited, even though he tried hard to suppress his emotions, he still found it difficult to hold back his laughter.

He, actually, had long intended to communicate with “humans.”

As a hybrid fishman leader, the reason he was able to reach where he was today had nothing to do with his rather ludicrous size…

As an elemental shaman priest of his ethnic group — a practitioner of a traditional spell-casting profession — his ascent was not due to physical attributes.

Primitive shaman worship is a common belief among intelligent creatures, venerating basic elements like light, fire, water, and earth, considered the most harmless and yet universally prevalent foundational beliefs across worlds.

In many worlds, faith and willpower equate to strength, and shaman priests naturally became the leaders of tribes in primitive societies.

Before certain beings led them astray, fishman tribes were usually guided by shamans known as “prophets” and “sages” who served as leaders—a deeply rooted tradition.

Most importantly, only those with these “magic-based professions” could read and write and would actively preserve their ethnic group’s cultural heritage and civilization.

As a “leader” and a “scholar,” he naturally had an understanding of his own kind and the overall situation of the world, or at least, he attempted to have a glimpse of this world.

He once infiltrated a human city in the guise of an ordinary merfolk, experienced half a year of life as a “regular fishman” working as a dock laborer, and gained firsthand insight into this exotic species from the Foreign Domain.

“A relatively peaceful species, yet with incredibly high average strength; everyone seems to be Extraordinary…”

“They have a mature heritage civilization and currency, capable of modifying their own creations according to conditions on other planets.

Impressive; the life of a lord like me probably isn’t as comfortable as that of an ordinary person…”

“I must adjust my expectations of them; they’re not as scarce in number as I previously thought.

Although their reproductive capabilities are not as strong as ours, they surpass the norm for Mortal species.

It is said that the populace of just one of their nations exceeds a hundred million—if true, how on earth do they manage and govern such numbers…”

“…They are too powerful.

Our world is just a part of their conquest, and apparently, everyone comes from one Church organization.

They hail from a world with the presence of True Gods, rumored to have possibly thousands of Deities.

If each Deity has an organization of this level underneath them…”

Having witnessed the prosperity of human cities and having befriended humans who boasted about their achievements, Shackda could not dare to overlook his own kin and the opportunity at hand.

Just an ordinary local Bishop candidate, joined Lin Nu’s Church no more than…”

“My Master, the Quasi-God King Akul himself, invited me to join the Church and specifically asked me to participate in this exploration.”

Lu Ping’an indeed appeared quite nonchalant, but there were others who would embellish his image for him…

Lu Ping’an’s face represented everyone’s face and was a prerequisite for successful business.

Shackda laughed like a fool, seemingly completely oblivious to what a Quasi-God was.

But inside, he was deeply shaken.

“One step away from godhood,” “The Greatness that refused Ascension” would be a colossal figure in any world.

If even such beings take this person seriously, then perhaps this “human youngster” is more preposterous than imagined.

In fact, the lord had been raising his evaluation of him all along, but at this moment, he still felt shocked and even fearful.

Seeking to express friendliness, he was even willing to offer an “unprofitable exchange,” willing to provide “treasures” he couldn’t use himself, just to make his counterpart happy and ensure a return visit.

“What does such an important figure want with my place…” While surprised, he became somewhat uneasy.

However, at that time, after the initial trading agreement was reached, the Fishman Leader found himself with no choice but to proceed.

“Fishman tradition,” even leaders could not ignore it.

“As entertainment for the banquet…” With a stiff upper lip, the Fishman Lord began the provocation.

He already knew about the strength of humans, even learning about the power of human combatants on the frontline through his own channels.

But his subordinates, his kin, his citizens had no idea.

These fishmen really spend their entire lives indoors; it’s useless to tell them anything.

As a local lord, he truly didn’t want his guests to be attacked by his own subordinates and kin just as they left…

Yet, based on his understanding of his own kin, such an event was a certainty.

If a bloody incident did occur…

it might be insignificant for his side since they were used to slaughtering each other, and the pursuit of strength was ingrained in their customs.

But “civilized” humans were different—what if one or two people died and vendettas were formed?

Thus, during the banquet, he took the initiative to start a “dance,” letting the person before him show their hand…

“Let my subordinates play with your kin for a bit.”

Yet the young man before him seemed completely unconcerned.

This time, it made the Fishman Leader nervous, not because he feared his people would lose…

“Damn it, has this youngster not realized yet?

If you can’t win impressively, problems will endlessly arise; once they taste blood, the vicious fish won’t stop…”

The Fishman Leader was worried that his fishman subordinates wouldn’t lose thoroughly enough!

And when the human’s subordinates, those “old acquaintances,” appeared, his unease peaked to a climax, and he even considered halting the proceedings on the spot.

“Long Hand Clan, why bother with these rubbish…

Hiring some Fishmen would be better, cheaper too.

Why employ these soft and weak fellows?”

But in the next moment, he stopped.

As a Rider of Elements, he sensed the scent of the “Extraordinary” emanating from the bodies of the Long Hand Clan.

Over a hundred Extraordinary Soldiers from the Long Hand Clan?

Just one glance, and Shackda was terrified.

He was certain, humans indeed possessed the technology to mass-produce Extraordinaries, and the success rate was quite high.

After the initial surprise and even delight, he felt an inexplicable fear…

If he appeared too weak, might the trade be switched to plundering?

He knew this was mostly wishful thinking, but when intelligent creatures found themselves at a disadvantage, they couldn’t help but become oversensitive and paranoid.

Following that, he saw a meteor shower…

The arranged Long Arm Javelin Throwers fiercely completed their charge-up, and a series of meteors streaked across the sky.

The obstruction of water flow?

The resistance of the atmosphere?

And all of the Fishman Lord’s unease, when each of those “turrets” pierced through the hard rock foundation, ripping apart their own “Royal Guard position,” bringing blood and death, reached its peak.

Out of a hundred Spear Throwers, only the first ten stepped forward, and with just a volley of javelins, they crushed the hundred-man squad of the “Fishman Royal Guard.”

Durable shell armor, high-quality shell shields, all were meaningless in front of those meteor-like heavy barrages.

Craters that looked like the aftermath of a super mortar bombardment, surrounded by flesh and fragments.

Some guards completely collapsed.

They couldn’t comprehend such opponents.

In their entire lives, having only ever “stood guard within the city,” their toughest opponents were various Fishmen and Big Fish.

Facing these attacks that were considered above average even among the Extraordinaries, they lacked the courage to resist.

With the morale of the Fishman guards shattered, they discarded their helmets and armor, which relieved Shackda for a moment, but then he tensed up again.

“If those javelins target me…”

“If they realize we’re just a bunch of weak Fish, and they plan not to trade but to directly plunder…”

“Those Gray Dwarves and octopus criminals are exactly like that…”

But suddenly, he saw the “young human” stand up and move toward the battlefield filled with ceaseless screams.

Was this a signal to massacre and establish dominance?

To claim authority over the land?

Shackda felt a chill in his veins but was powerless to do anything.

His fear wasn’t due to the presence of these hundred-plus Extraordinaries; he saw they clearly had weaknesses, and under his command were Elites and Strongmen…

What he truly feared was the humans’ attitude toward his own kind.

If they really deemed his species useless and aimed to enslave them for logistics and menial work, could the fate of enslavement they once escaped be upon them again?

And this time, it seemed no one could escape.

“What’s going on, I’m healed?!”

And amidst the sharp cries of the Fishmen, there was surprise and disbelief.

Wherever that “human youngster” went, even those with severe wounds were able to get up immediately.

As one after another, the unlucky injured stood up in his wake, the scene, almost a “miracle,” was more incomprehensible than the hundred Extraordinaries that came before.

Shackda’s jaw dropped, unable to hide his unease and shock.

Yet he saw the young man smile and walk back.

“Interested in these Spear Throwers?

I can sell them, do you want to buy?

In addition to that, I have their training methods, weapons, and logistics, all transparently priced and fair for young and old alike.”

“Oh, you’re interested in my healing techniques?

Unfortunately, I can’t sell that…

But I do have medical supplies and Extraordinary Magic Potions, going cheap too.”