This is in your capable hands now.

I shall take my leave.

Chapter 148.

Royal Goblin Shaman with a flicker of light from the teleportation array.

Bayou returned to his castle.

At this moment, Bayou was eager to seize every moment to level up.

His encounters with the dwarf chieftains, including Meyers, had made him acutely aware of the formidable strength of these local factions.

Perhaps it was not that they were too powerful, but rather that by you and his kind were too weak.

Even the average beast clans were often led by royal figures.

While his own lords barely reached the commanding level as various external forces began to converge upon the snowy mountains, the region had transformed into a highly sensitive local.

Bayou was now reluctant to send his undead out into the world.

He could only dispatch a few wraiths to gather intelligence, while the smaller entities could venture into the dark forest to grow stronger.

For instance, he could send the commanding level Soul Master, the Judgment Knight, and Jon.

Their dimminionive size and agility made them adept at stealth, making it difficult for them to be detected.

If he were to deploy a zombie Titan, it would likely be spotted by enemies long before it could even enter the dark forest.

Bayou deemed it prudent for his undead to operate discreetly in the dark forest to amass experience, while he himself could not afford to be idle.

If he could eliminate several foes of equal standing, he would quickly ascend in levels.

However, before embarking on his leveling endeavors, Bayou felt the need to disguise himself, at least to appear more like a local human rather than an obvious outsider who would be met with hostility.

Shiaoing, do you know what the mages of the mage association look like? Bayou inquired, attempting to glean information from Shiaoing.

Human mages? They should be draped in black robes and wielding magic staffs.

Much like those necromancers, Shiao Bing mused, trying to recall if he had ever seen one himself.

Perhaps.

Bayou sensed that Shiao Bing<unk>s response was somewhat unreliable.

Yet, he believed their appearance could not be too far off from that description.

To his delight, he discovered a black robe in his wardrobe, akin to a raincoat, complete with a loose hood.

The robe was ample and comfortable.

Alongside it were some peculiar garments, presumably traditional attire of the local human populace.

Bayou silently critiqued their aesthetic choices with little regard for changing out of his sailor outfit.

Bayou dawned the black robe, tying his hair into a bun.

He placed the hood over his head, the brim conveniently obscuring his eyes and the upper portion of his face, compelling him to walk with his head slightly bowed.

No wonder the mages he had previously seen walked this way.

It was to obscure their line of sight.

The pointed tip of the hood was ask you.

And when Bayu glanced in the mirror, he mused whether he resembled a mage.

In truth, he felt he bore more resemblance to a witch.

What do you think? Shiao Bing looked apart.

Bayou stepped out, prompting Shiao Bing to compare.

After a moment of silence, Shiao Bing replied, "Yes, indeed.

" Relieved by Shiao Bing<unk>s affirmation, Bayou glided toward the castle entrance, treading cautiously.

However, in a moment of carelessness, he stepped on the hem of his robe and nearly stumbled.

With a swift teleportation, he regained his balance, cleverly averting an embarrassing mishap.

Bayou summoned Jon and a multitude of the demon souls, as well as the knights of divine retribution to stealthily embark on a journey to the dark forest.

The singular objective of today s expedition was to vanquish monsters and gain experience a top the frigid snow mountain in the southern central region.

This band of weirwolves had heun a cave intending to temporarily take refuge there due to a shortage of manpower.

They were unable to construct a fortress and had to make do with the cave for the time being.

Have you not yet located the white tigers? The werewolf leader inquired impatiently of the giant wolves below.

My lord, their sin has been tampered with.

We have scattered and searched most of the mountain, yet have not uncovered their trail.

A giant wolf replied, crouching respectfully before the werewolf leader.

The werewolf leader, disinterested in their excessive chatter, dismissed their explanations, exclaiming that their failure to find the tigers was inconsequential.

What the undead? None.

The werewolf leader growled, his expression darkening as he scolded them harshly.

A pack of useless fools.

My lord, please quell your anger.

We have not returned empty-handed.

We have discovered that a group of goblins has also ventured into the snow mountain.

The prostrate giant wolf hastily wagged its tail, continuing to explain.

Goblins? The werewolf leader rose, his demeanor brightening considerably as he stroed toward the cave exit.

What audacity they possess to meddle in these affairs.

Ever since the frost giant perished, it seems that all manner of riffraff dares to invade the snow mountain with no intention of sparing them.

The werewolf leader resolved to lead his kin in pursuit of a feast.

Meanwhile, within a certain mysterious bunker on the opposite side of the mountain, the white tigers had not ventured outside for 2 days.

They had previously sent a tiger man to forage for food, but after discovering the presence of the werewolves, they had refrained from further excursions, relying solely on the meager supplies stored in their bunker, they had begun rationing their provisions, indicating that their resources were far from abundant.

To diminish the consumption of food, the tiger guard urged the others to rest as much as possible, thereby conserving energy.

However, being tigers rather than bears, they did not hibernate.

Thus, while their daily food intake had lessened somewhat, it was merely a temporary respit.

The tiger guard glanced toward the inner chamber, where their queen remained in slumber.

Should their provisions deplete entirely, they would have no choice but to venture out in search of sustenance.

Yet, the harsh environment of the snow mountain made survival exceedingly challenging.

The scarcity of viable species not only complicated the procurement of food but also heightened the risk of detection by other factions.

Sighing as he observed his slumbering kin, the Tiger Guard lamented the dire situation.

It was unacceptable to allow his people to perish from hunger.

The relentless blizzards and biting winds that plagued the snow mountain year round were precisely why it bore the name of the frigid snow mountain.

Both the werewolves and the tiger folk were clad in thick fur, rendering them impervious to the cold.

However, the goblins were a different matter entirely.

Their dimminionive stature made traversing the snow treacherous.

A single step could engulf their calves, and in deeper drifts, they could be completely buried.

The goblins swayd in thick animal pelts to withstand the biting cold, trudged laboriously through the snow, their hearts already filled with curses.

Why were they sent to this wretched place in the frigid mountains? They cast a glance at the goblin shaman soaring ahead.

Feeling a mix of anger and helplessness, suddenly a pack of colossal wolves appeared on the path before them, led by the approaching werewolf chieftain.

Upon spotting the goblin shaman, the werewolf leader paused, realizing that their plans for a feast had been thwarted as he recognized the shaman before him.

It seems your goblin kingdom has spared no expense in venturing to these icy heights.

The werewolf chieftain taunted, implying that the goblin kingdom was far too feeble for such a daunting local.

In the goblin kingdom, a royal would be considered a formidable force.

But at top the mountain, a mere royal held little significance.

The werewolf leader was not intimidated.

Rather, he found opponents like mages and shamans quite bothersome, not wishing to squander time on them.

Chapter 149.

Yangs submission.

The goblin shaman, known as the blightbearer observed the grim countenance of the werewolf leader.

The towering peaks were a formidable presence for the goblin kingdom.

It was not surprising that the werewolf leader recognized its name given its stature.

Yet the blight bearer was unaware of how many nobility resided among the mountains, as the we werewolves bore a striking resemblance to one another, rendering the blight bearer incapable of identifying the leader before it.

Would this esteemed figure from the mountain seek to impede our passage? The blight bearer maintained a vigilant gaze upon the pack of werewolves below, who were equally anxious, not anticipating such misfortune upon their arrival at the Snowy Mountains.

The werewolf leader surveyed the goblins, his gaze ultimately resting upon the hovering blight bearer.

As a figure of nobility, the blight bearer flitted about, casting spells like an irksome fly.

Among the goblins, there were many of commanding rank.

Thus, the weirwolves did not possess a significant advantage.

Without uttering a word, the werewolf leader departed, the pack following suit, vanishing from the goblin sight.

A collective sigh of relief escaped the goblins.