Chapter 115: The Arrival of the Lich

Two days later at noon, in front of the Cross Mountain Valley.  

Jessia, the leader of the Black Cat Society, looked up at the sun. The pale solar disk cast no warmth on her body.  

“Damn Icelanders,” Jessia muttered, pulling her hood tighter over her ears. “Fighting in winter, of all times.”  

Behind her followed her most loyal subordinates, all demi-humans, mostly catfolk females, but also a few foxfolk and rabbitfolk. These were not purebred demi-humans with furry animal heads, but mixed-blood demi-humans with human faces and animal ears and tails.  

Their guards were a group of ratfolk—about thirty ratfolk crossbowmen. The rodent ratfolk had small brains, so they weren’t very smart and spoke in mumbled tones. Fortunately, they were obedient, especially to Jessia, who fed them well, keeping them full and warm.  

Jessia herself was also a catfolk hybrid. She had pure black cat ears and a black cat tail, from which the Black Cat Society took its name.  

The Black Cat Society was not a militant organization but a service-oriented group—basically, they made money through alcohol and entertainment in various ways.  

In addition, they sold intelligence and were among the most famous intelligence dealers near Bloodanchor Bay.  

Compared to the Lizardmen Faction, the Black Cat Society was just a small gang. The truth was close to that. Jessia only recognized her fellow demi-humans as core members of the Black Cat Society and never trusted humans. Therefore, the core members never exceeded a hundred.  

Now that the northern region was in turmoil, Jessia had received extremely dangerous information. Intelligence traders had keen noses, and she knew that a few days ago, the Icelanders’ warships suddenly appeared and occupied a port of the Lizardmen Faction.  

Those soldiers seemed unwilling to spare even such a barren place, determined to search every inch thoroughly.  

The human outsiders of the Black Cat Society either fled or sought refuge under other large gangs to avoid the war.  

All forces near the bay were undergoing a massive reshuffle, and Jessia understood that she had to find herself a backer and an escape route.  

She had close ties with the Lizardmen Faction’s slave merchants and often purchased female demi-humans from them to join her team.  

Being fellow demi-humans, they trusted each other more easily. Jessia treated her kin well and never deprived them of a decent life.  

Demi-humans suffered from exclusion and discrimination in human lands, with most enduring tragic experiences. But in the Black Cat Society, they at least had a semblance of home.  

Jessia regarded the Black Cat Society as her home. She had founded this gang single-handedly. Surviving in such chaotic times was no stroke of luck.  

She was herself a Silver-rank professional thief. She had stabbed to death countless troublemakers trying to cause chaos in the Black Cat Society with her daggers.  

If not for this war, she and her subordinates could have lived here peacefully.  

But the flames of war had reached this corner, and today she was meeting the Lizardmen Faction in the valley to seek ways to escape the north.  

The Lizardmen Faction’s shipping fleet was well-equipped, and Jessia planned to order passage on their ships to leave the northern lands. She had decided to give up on the Black Cat Society and instead lead her subordinates to join the Lizardmen Faction.  

In fact, those people had tried to consolidate the Black Cat Society’s business before, but in such a small place, a Silver-rank thief still had some influence. Jessia was unwilling, and the other side dared not force the issue.  

She thought that if she took the initiative to join, the Lizardmen Faction would definitely not refuse.  

In short, she would first depend on them and try to get through this harsh winter.  

With this in mind, Jessia proposed the meeting at Cross Mountain Valley.  

She believed she had expressed herself clearly in the letter and hoped the other side would show sincerity.  

However… she still worried a little, wondering if something had gone wrong with the Lizardmen Faction.  

No matter what, Jessia had arrived at the valley entrance.  

She felt no presence inside. Could the Lizardmen Faction not have come? But they had clearly sent her a letter agreeing to this deal.  

She could only take it one step at a time. Since she was already here, she decided to go in and take a look.  

Jessia raised her hand, signaling her team to stop.  

At her command, the ratfolk crossbowmen loaded their bolts. She led her team into the valley but frowned.  

The catfolk’s nose twitched as she carefully sniffed the air.  

There was a strange scent in the air—not the usual smell of slave merchants. Those guys always carried an unshakable stench of blood and herbs. But this smell… how to put it… was like ash dug out from a fire pit.  

Someone was here. She drew two daggers from her waist. They glowed with a faint green light—extraordinary weapons poisoned and enchanted with blue-ringed snake venom. Anyone cut by these daggers would be paralyzed all over, and the wound would bleed uncontrollably, impossible to stop even with bandaging.  

Her cat ears perked up to listen closely. All she heard was the sound of wind and snow.  

No, how could such strong wind and snow exist inside a valley?  

Suddenly, she turned around. A sudden strong wind swept through the cross-shaped valley, and a blizzard erupted, fiercely blocking the catfolk’s vision.  

Amid the white storm, she heard movement beyond human sounds.  

The creaking noises were not human but the grinding of bones.  

A black robe appeared in front of her, though she didn’t notice when it arrived.  

Shadows appeared from all directions—sudden, unexpected shadows…  

Impossible!  

Before she entered, she had not sensed anyone inside.  

She felt incredibly uneasy. In the white mist, she sensed a pair of golden vertical pupils staring at her.  

That gaze raised the hairs on her skin. A terrifying pressure radiated from those eyes.  

Like a mouse facing a cat, like a lamb encountering a wolf—the innate danger sense made the catfolk’s fur stand on end as she arched her back.  

Jessia’s whole body bristled, emitting a piercing, sharp sound.  

Those vertical pupils locked onto hers. At that moment, she suddenly calmed, as if seeing a colossal dragon that could crush her like a mountain. The terrifying dragon aura made her tremble.  

The catfolk’s keen senses made her feel an unimaginable danger. This was not an enemy she could fight. She suddenly dared not make a sound.  

When she looked around, she found her team had already been surrounded densely by skeletons. Each skeleton wore finely crafted equipment, wielding Viking swords, holding longbows or crossbows.  

They stood together like an army—neat and powerful.  

The blizzard gradually subsided. The catfolk finally clearly saw the person before her.  

The dragonborn who radiated dreadful pressure, and beside her, a skeleton cloaked in black robes, silently burning with soul fire.  

All the skeletons, including the dragonborn, formed a formation centered on the skeleton.  

The skeleton held an icy magic wand. The pale blue wand was crystal clear, with a brilliant ice flower blooming at its tip, resembling an ice tree.  

The wand was exquisite and magnificent, appearing like a supreme scepter in his hand.  

The dragonborn spoke coldly, shouting ahead.  

Her voice seemed to pierce the soul, echoing through the valley.  

She said: “I am the great lich Anselmo Greywu’s envoy. You mortals, if you wish to keep your lives, kneel at once!”  

Lich!  

Jessia’s heart dropped into an ice cellar. Anselmo Greywu—she had heard that name!  

That frosty lich had once frozen an entire small country. Legend said that lich could summon storms, change seasons!  

That was a legendary name, appearing in many secrets. It was one of the most active liches who frequently showed in the outside world. Every few centuries, Anselmo Greywu appeared somewhere, leaving behind his trademark frozen land.  

Sometimes the lich slaughtered a giant dragon, sometimes froze glaciers and dragged sea beasts from the ocean.  

Jessia thought of the evil rumors from the Icelanders’ territory. Had the demon brought the lich here too?  

Jessia could not believe it, but the dragonborn’s aura and the skeleton holding the magic wand were truly before her eyes.  

There was no room for disbelief. She shouted fearfully, “Everyone, kneel!”  

Before she finished shouting, the ratfolk were trembling and already prostrated on the ground. The dragonborn’s aura made them instinctively afraid.  

These low-intelligence beings were often servants to dragons. Clans of dog-headed or ratfolk often lived under the shadow of dragon power.  

At this moment, all members of the Black Cat Society knelt down. No one dared to look directly into the lich’s eyes.  

That title was too terrifying. Even Silver-rank Jessia did not dare imagine the consequences of angering a lich.