They all call me Great Master-Chapter 733 - 730: The Web of Blood IV
The location of Grindelwald was a secret campsite by the river, about 20 kilometers away from Doldot Port.
Campsite it was called, but in reality, it was just a temporary resting place with some simple arrangements around two fire pits.
Due to his special status, Grindelwald had a tent that belonged exclusively to him.
When Grindelwald woke up, there were low sounds of arguing outside the tent—
"Toran! What are you trying to do?
Are you still delusional at this point?
There is no God of the Inland River!
There isn't!
It's all fake!"
A rather sharp voice, even when lowered, made listeners involuntarily frown.
It was truly grating to the ears.
"Exactly!
What we need to do now is leave Port Doldot as soon as possible!"
"Yes!
The Marquess of Seberlin has already put us on the wanted list!"
Agreement came in waves.
Messy and noisy.
And extremely unpleasant to listen to.
"I said when I was gathering everyone, those willing to come with me should wait here, and those not willing are free to leave."
Toran spoke calmly, unhurried.
He was different from before. The former Toran, though cautious and serious, always seemed impatient and unreliable.
But after last night's 'betrayal,' Toran seemed to have grown up overnight.
He became not only steadier but was also able to confront more than a dozen people without being at a disadvantage.
"Leave on our own?"
The sharp voice let out an even more piercing laugh.
"Do you think we should just leave on our own?"
A question.
A question in the dead of night grew more piercing under the night wind.
The wind fluttered the tent flaps, and Grindelwald saw the other party. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
A man who was tall and skinny, with a narrow face, dressed in overalls.
At that moment, he was staring at Toran ferociously.
"What do you think I joined your so-called Inland River Cult for?
Was it for faith?
Bullshit faith!
I'm here for money, women!
Now that I've gotten nothing, you just let me go?
It won't be that easy!
Hand over the money!
I've calculated it, there's at least 60,000 gold coins in the cult's Contribution Money, even if you haven't taken all of it out, even just a part would be enough!
Now!
The gold coins are ours!"
The opposition growled.
And those who agreed before stood behind him as well, these fellows drawing daggers and shortswords from their bosoms, looking fierce.
It's not 6 gold coins!
It's not even 60 gold coins!
It's 60,000 gold coins!
60,000 gold coins!
Just the thought of such wealth made these treacherous fellows breathe faster; they glared malevolently at Toran, wishing they could rip him open right then and take the gold coins out.
On the other side was Toran.
Apart from Mr. and Mrs. Gwen, there was no one else.
It wasn't that there were no other people present.
Most of those present kept their neutrality.
They watched Toran and the thugs opposite them.
They retained a trace of awe towards the 'God of the Inland River.'
But they also coveted the 60,000 gold coins with a greed they couldn't let go of.
They wavered.
They wished to continue living as followers of the 'Inland River Cult,' yet they longed to secure enough money to start a new life.
A contradiction.
Because they didn't want to risk it.
Especially since some of them had already come forward, naturally, they preferred to see it through to the end.
They chose the safest way to see how things would ultimately turn out.
Isn't that what everyone does anyway?
"Sigh!"
Mr. Gwen shook his head and sighed before pulling out a small firearm from his chest.
With the appearance of the firearm, the shouting from the other side quieted down a little.
But the next moment—
"What are you afraid of?
He has only one bullet!
Can he really kill all of us?"
After retreating to the back of the crowd, the man with the long and narrow face began to shout with a more piercing voice.
"Yeah!"
"What are we afraid of!"
"Hand over the money!"
"Hand it over!"
With echoes one after another, the voices grew louder, and the faces became more ferocious.
Toran remained silent and drew his longsword.
At this moment, Toran feared no battle.
Because he firmly believed that the God of the Inland River existed.
He fought for Your Crown.
Even death would be the ultimate honor.
And it would be even better if he could take down that blasphemer before dying.
Facing Toran's gaze, the man who had shrunk to the back of the crowd felt a sudden panic and subconsciously wanted to turn and run away, but the human wall in front of him gave him the courage.
He started to laugh, and loudly said—
"What can you alone do?
No!
There are three of you!
Right, didn't you also bring a Divine Envoy?
Four people!
Haha!
You four want to fight my fifteen men?
Come on!
I'm standing right here, what can you possibly do to me!"
The sharp voice of the other party became increasingly arrogant.
Seemingly to boost his own morale, the man shouted while moving forward a step.
Then...
He stepped on a snake.
In pain, the snake twisted around and bit.
The color was dark brown, with a triangular head.
Poison!
Deadly poison!
The man only felt a sharp pain in his leg, then his breathing became difficult, followed by his vision darkening in waves.
Thump!
The man fell down.
The people surrounding the man were startled, and subconsciously, they checked on their leader.
Then...
They were also bitten by snakes.
Not just by the previous one.
But by dozens of small, quick-reacting snakes with extremely potent venom.
These snakes had been arranged in advance by Arthur.
They were a precautionary measure.
The situation for the Inland River Cult was not looking good, or it could be said, it was really awful.
In such an awful situation, anything could happen.
The young Southern Lost Spirit Medium never dared to bet on the kindness of a person, but he was truly willing to bet on a person's malice.
The former was unpredictable.
The latter was a guaranteed win for him.
Snakes surged, and people fell to the ground.
The bystanders cried out in shock.
Toran, and Mr. and Mrs. Gwen were stunned.
Then, Mr. Gwen began to shout excitedly—
"The divine has a form, like a serpent, long and thick.
The Breath of God, deadly poisonous.
The Command of God, snakes in obedience!
Your Crown!
It's Your Crown!"
The excited voice was incredibly high-pitched, Mr. Gwen's cheeks were flushed red, and his voice echoed through the night sky, causing the bystanders to look at each other with horror and doubt.
Grindelwald wouldn't give these fools any more time.
After straightening his attire, the pale-haired and pale-faced Grindelwald stepped out of the tent.
His staff tapped lightly on the ground.
His voice was calm and prolonged—
"God of the Inland River, are You truly willing to accept them?"
As his words fell, the Inland River beside the dense forest started to churn.
The next moment—
A massive figure rose, blocking out the sun.
