Chapter 51: Encounters in the Marsh

It turned out that after Edwin and his companions entered the Great Marsh, they carefully avoided most dangers and collected numerous unique botanical and mineral specimens found only there. Everything went smoothly at first, but on their way back, they encountered a migrating tribe of lizardfolk. With Blackfeather’s help, they managed to hide in a safe spot and smeared themselves with mud to avoid detection by the lizardfolk’s keen sense of smell.

However, a monster lurking underground suddenly attacked them, injuring one of the soldiers. Though Bruce quickly killed the creature, the scent of blood attracted the lizardfolk scouts, making conflict inevitable.

After slaying several inquisitive lizardfolk scouts, Bruce led the group in a breakout attempt, while the lizardfolk tribe tried to encircle and hunt them. Fortunately, Blackfeather always pointed out the right direction for their escape. After abandoning most of their supplies, they neared the exit of the Great Marsh.

But the lizardfolk were unwilling to let them go so easily. A squad of fierce lizardfolk warriors relentlessly tracked them and intercepted them at the marsh’s exit. This squad numbered over fifty, commanded by six savage lizardfolk—formidable adversaries.

Bruce faced three savage lizardfolk alone, three attendant knights took on two others, and Nicole, to protect the old scholar, after slaying one savage lizardfolk warrior, began to counterattack the ordinary warriors.

Though these lizardfolk were the tribe’s elite, they were no match for well-armed knights. Nicole killed more than ten, and when the apprentice knights defeated their opponents, the lizardfolk warriors finally broke and fled, with over half their number lost. Five of the six savage lizardfolk were killed, and one was captured alive at Edwin’s request.

However, in the effort to protect the old scholar, four soldiers died at the lizardfolk’s hands. Fearing pursuit by the tribe, Bruce and his group buried their comrades on the spot and withdrew from the Great Marsh.

“Aren’t lizardfolk supposed to be cowardly and weak beastkin? Why were they so fierce?” Victor asked in bewilderment.

Bruce’s ordeal made Victor wary. After all, this was a team comprising two knights, three apprentice knights, and twenty elite soldiers—a force powerful enough to overwhelm his current camp. (Bruce had four attendant knights; one was stationed outside the marsh guarding the supply camp.)

“The lizardfolk we encountered weren’t ordinary. They are the fiercest kind among lizardfolk, known as half-dragons,” Edwin said, sipping his coffee with a wry smile.

“Half-dragons surpass ordinary lizardfolk in intelligence, strength, size, and courage. They claim to carry the blood of dragons! I never imagined there’d be a tribe of over a thousand half-dragons in the Great Marsh,” Edwin remarked with a hint of pride.

Though they had discarded most specimens during their escape, capturing a living half-dragon left him quite satisfied.

Victor’s face turned ashen. Half-dragons? A thousand? Right in my backyard?

“Don’t worry! No matter how formidable, half-dragons are still a kind of lizardfolk. They won’t leave the marsh,” Edwin reassured him, seeing Victor’s concern.

“That’s good,” Victor sighed in relief. The Great Marsh was vast and boundless, and the lizardfolk had adapted to its environment; surely they would have no interest in his territory.

“Master, what was that monster? I’ve never seen such a long and strange beast,” Victor asked Edwin, curious.

Even after such a desperate chase by the half-dragon tribe, unable even to retrieve his comrades’ bodies, Edwin had never abandoned the monster’s corpse—a testament to its value.

“Heh, that was a rare mutated rat,” Edwin said with excitement.

“Mutated rat?!” Victor exclaimed in shock.

From Victor’s modern perspective, creatures in this world mutated in two directions: one was ferocity, the other was aberration, also known as mutation.

Ferocity did not change a creature’s appearance, but enhanced all its elemental attributes—physique, spirit, perception, life.

Mutation, however, completely altered a creature’s appearance, sometimes turning it into an entirely different being.

The direction of biological mutation was chaotic and unpredictable; no one knew what a mutated creature would ultimately look like, but most grew enormous and savage. That monster, over two meters long, had originated from a palm-sized mouse.

Scholars of the White Tower had also observed an intriguing phenomenon: no intelligent species ever exhibited aberration, not even the dullest fishfolk. Thus, mutated creatures always lacked intelligence, and the lower the creature’s base, the greater its mutation—sometimes by ten thousandfold. In the northern mountains of the Naville Kingdom, an aberrant spider eight meters tall and fifteen meters long was discovered, eventually slain by a golden knight.

Unlike ferocity, which was random and non-hereditary, mutation could not be inherited but could be contagious! The flesh and blood of mutated creatures could induce further mutation in others, though this contagion weakened over time, eventually stabilizing into a new species.

Humans exploited this contagious property to cultivate powerful creatures. For example, the swift dragon mounts of the Gambis Kingdom’s Dragon Knight Corps were bred from ground lizards.

Thus, all human nobles coveted mutated creatures, but mutation was even rarer than ferocity, making mutated beasts extremely precious.

No wonder Bruce and his men, though battered and mourning losses, harbored secret joy—a single mutated rat would earn their family a rich reward.

“It was that mutated rat that exposed our whereabouts, costing us four soldiers and many samples, but it turned out to be the greatest prize from our journey. Victor, isn’t that rather marvelous?” Edwin stroked his beard, half laughing and half crying.

“Master, specimens can always be collected again, but the value of a mutated creature is immeasurable. For your first venture into the Great Marsh to yield a mutated rat—such luck will make other nobles green with envy!” Victor said with admiration.

The value of mutated creatures was indeed inestimable—not mere flattery! The Gambis Kingdom’s Dragon Knight Corps could travel six hundred kilometers a day, march for three days straight, and still maintain peak combat strength. For this world, they were a strategic force, ensuring royal control over the kingdom. The foundation of the corps lay in the swift dragons bred from mutated flesh.

Of course, such breeding took decades, and the results were random, for this mutation was inherently chaotic. Yet, for great lords, mutated creatures remained the most coveted strategic resource.

“Speaking of which, we owe our successful escape to your pet, Blackfeather. It unfailingly pointed out the weakest link in the lizardfolk’s encirclement. In my opinion, Blackfeather has immense military value!” Bruce said sincerely. Without Blackfeather’s guidance, they might never have brought the mutated rat out of the marsh.

Victor smiled faintly. The alchemical raven was indeed the best reconnaissance unit—it could soar thousands of meters high, surveying the entire battlefield. No movement escaped its keen eyes.

“Victor, I believe Blackfeather isn’t a raven. It might be a Dust Falcon, as described in ancient texts. These raven-like birds were companions to the night elves—intelligent, and able to mimic sounds. Since the elves retreated to the Endless Forest, they’ve never been seen again. However, the northern part of the Centaur Hills borders the Endless Forest, so the presence of a Dust Falcon here is reasonable. Perhaps your high elf blood attracted Blackfeather and made it your pet,” Edwin said.

“Dust Falcon? It seems my luck is good, too!” Victor replied with a smile.

The old scholar’s words stirred something in Victor’s heart. The history of the Nairil Empire was unrecorded in human chronicles—perhaps the elves knew its secrets, given their centuries-long lifespans. If the chance arose, he might seek out the elves someday.

“Master Edwin, did you discover anything else interesting in the marsh?” Victor asked, curious.

“Most of the samples were lost, but I kept a few interesting trinkets,” Edwin replied with enthusiasm.

“For example, this crystal.” Edwin took out a milky-white crystal the size of a fingernail.

“This is the first time I’ve found such a crystal. It has an intriguing property—it can absorb impurities from water.”

As Edwin spoke, he produced a dish, poured some clear water into it, and added a few drops of ink. Then he tossed the crystal into the dish.

Soon, the black water began to change. Black floccules gathered toward the crystal, while the water cleared. In the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the water in the dish was clear again, and the milky-white crystal was now completely wrapped in black flocculent matter, resembling a piece of obsidian quietly settled in the water.

“We discovered this crystal when collecting water in the marsh. Water in the same pond was clear by day, but turbid at night. Eventually, we found these strange crystals at the bottom—they absorb impurities during the day, and release them back into the water at night. Well? Isn’t this little thing rather magical?” Edwin boasted to the dumbfounded Victor.

At this moment, Victor was swept by a tidal wave of emotion.

A trinket? This was a priceless treasure!

Victor’s territory had abundant purple cane resources, and he had always believed purple cane would be the cornerstone of his domain’s development.

Since establishing the hill camp, Victor had been experimenting with producing cane sugar. He pressed juice from the purple cane, filtered it with gauze, boiled it to obtain syrup, and finally cooled it to make crude sugar.

But the crude sugar from purple cane was dark purple-black. Though it tasted good, its appearance was poor. This was not the cane sugar Victor needed; the human nobility would never accept such crude sugar.

Victor needed white granulated sugar, but he lacked the crucial decolorization step.

This missing step left Victor at a loss. He vaguely remembered, from his days on Earth, hearing coworkers mention that cane sugar decolorization required lime or activated charcoal.

He wasn’t sure if lime existed in this world, but charcoal was readily available. He tasked his people with burning every type of wood in his domain to produce charcoal. After numerous trials, he discovered, to his disappointment, that it didn’t work.

Of course—charcoal isn’t activated charcoal…

Victor finally admitted to his own ignorance.

When piles of purple cane residue were hauled away from the upper camp, all the villagers believed their lord favored purple cane juice—so much so that they imagined he bathed in it. Otherwise, how could he use so much purple cane?

Victor made no effort to explain. Coincidentally, he encouraged innovation among his subjects, offering work points as incentive. Some began using purple cane residue to brew alcohol, and to everyone’s surprise, they produced a highly praised purple cane wine—a happy accident.

The success of purple cane wine convinced Victor’s people that their lord was wise. Why else would he have forbidden the clearing of purple cane groves so early? After all, that land was the most fertile.

Everyone believed that the sweet and tangy purple cane wine would make them rich, but Victor scoffed—purple cane wine was far too easy to imitate.

Victor didn’t know how alcohol was brewed in this world. He watched his subjects mix purple cane residue and juice in jars, leave them outside for a day and night, then fill the jars with water, seal them, and bury them underground—done. Absolutely no technical content!

To truly get rich, he needed cane sugar—white, crystalline sugar!

Activated charcoal was hopeless, so he considered lime. Victor sought out Buso, a master alchemical auxiliary, hoping the versatile craftsman could produce lime. But, as the king had said, aside from preloaded skills and knowledge, Buso was as ignorant as a newborn.

With lime now out of reach, Victor tried every conceivable material for absorption tests: clay, bark, grass, swift bird feathers, ground lizard eggs, hair, mithril ore…

He finally discovered, in despair, that it was all futile.

Now, however, a perfect experimental material lay before Victor, and he felt his chances of success were very, very high…