章節 2: One Man's Blessing is Another one's Bane
"Bloh" this complicated word was said with refinement, only lightly irritating the ears of almost everything in a ten meter radius.
"Zuh" another incredibly difficult word was spoken, truly this was an immense debate from which both side would some out enlightened and changed to the core.
A minotaur with a very unusual color palette watched alongside a smaller hooded figure as the vigorous but polite discussion was still going on, the two were obviously comepletely rocked to the core by the superior display of intelligence they were witnessing.
"Explain!" asked the hooded one, pointed his crooked finger at the two savants and the audience gathered around them.
"Wretch, purple one, leader, number of wretch increases, they speak, more and more" reported the minotaur in a fragmented speech, experiencing this woe for the first time in his life, utter fascination that he couldn't understand and frankly, didn't really appreciate.
"Purple one?" muttered the hooded figure, quickly spotting which one the minotaur was referring to, it was the only one that was truly different after all and was one of the two participating in the debate.
He couldn't even begin to guess what it was that the wretches were doing but it seemed be some sort of competition or game perhaps, the special wretch stayed in place as the other kept switching taking a seat on the ground in front of him and seemingly...
...Trying to best him in a duel of words?
It was all ludicrous, the hooded figure knew that he was witnessing something highly unusual, first off, wretches spoke a language that only they could understand, a broken and completely illogical one at that, they could sometimes just spout the same sound at each other in the same intonation for over a hour and seemingly progress in their discussion like normal.
It was one of the few languages that couldn't be learned through the system and also one know to be amongst the few that one all-language speaking sage could never understand in the slightest, of all, the language of the lowest of the low!
Stupidity in such a refined state that it was beyond the comprehension of the best.
The presence of a 'special' wretch was something that had never happened but the hooded figure wasn't knowledgeable enough to know that fact and despite his interest in the strange monster, he had bigger things to attend to, he had to lead the horde to their destination and no time to play with a wretch.
"Don't worry, just ignore their antics, the more of them there are, the more meatshields there will be for when we reach our objective" spoke the hooded one as he walked away, soon followed by the minotaur.
The handsome wretch stared at their backs, his stare long and heavy but he was too insinificant to even be noticed at all.
His mouth curled downwards, showing his black teeth in full, displaying a peculiar expression as he scratched his chin with his needle-like claws.
As the horde began to move again, the circle of debate was broken and the wretches followed suit.
With the same expression plastered on his grey face, the wretch munched on some of the teeth he had collected over the past few days, crushing them between his own and swallowing the remnants.
His gaze wandered all around him, focusing on anything of even slight interest, particularly, anything that seemed to be moving in a weird way or anything that was shiny, his rudimentary pockets couldn't hold all of the treasures he gathered but it was fine.
Death was a common occurence amongst the weakest of the horde, ambushed by monsters of the surrounding wildlife, the wretch had quickly recognised that fact and had assumed a position that put other bodies inbetween him and the danger.
But still close enough to see it all and give him the opportunity to swoop in and get the prizes left behind as well, including the precious loinclothes, allowing him to carry more and more.
Even then, it still got too heavy for the small and frail wretch, thankfully, he was also capable of recognising how easy it was to get his fellow wretches to do things for him, the collection of mostly junk and teeth was growing at a slow but steady pace.
From time to time, some sort of etheral, flat being would appear before him and inform him about some stuff he got, although it didn't seem to really matter much since no matter what he got, it all went into the same place.
He didn't know what a number was but seeing it change and take more space as time went made the wretch feel especially good.
The horde kept on marching and ripping its way through random villages, burning everything down and flooding the earth with blood, both monsters and the shell he had come out off died each time and there were always some corpses left without surveillance for him to drag away and eat by himself.
Apart from some bugs he ate alive, the wretch had yet to actually kill anything with his own hands or so it should be, wretches were comically weak on top of being absolute morons, when one did attack, it usually ended up in it getting injured, regarless of whether or not the target fought back.
After seeing this happen with other of its fellow, the wretch decided that it would just hang a bit in the back of some of the stronger monsters and just clean up the mess they left behind.
It was a dirty way of amassing experience as the etheral ones put it but it worked regardless, though the fact that he barely did anything to actually defeat these things meant that he only got a small part of the experience.
Slowly but surely, he approached what was to most monsters, perhaps, the greatest thing in their lives.
Evolution!
However, for the wretches, it was entirely different, one of the things they were mostly known for and what had made them a subject for many experiments was their strange relation to the concept of evolution.
Rather than a blessing, it was what would ring the end of the successful wretches.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票