The tense atmosphere gradually dissipated.
Garrett couldn't bring himself to order Appa to step on the old man standing in front of him, unard and not attacking.
Naturally, the encirclent dispersed as well, and he preferred to talk it out:
"I’m in a hurry to save my friend. He’s trapped in the western continent, and his situation is unknown. If I delay even a day, it might be too late to save him."
"Rescuing people indeed cannot be delayed," the old shaman nodded sincerely. His expression was earnest, his face filled with understanding and willingness to help, much like the old director in Garrett's previous life when speaking to patients' families.
"Honored guest, can you tell where your friend is currently? Perhaps we can provide so information, such as the main powers in the area, which powerful deities exist, and which places are particularly dangerous..."
"You’re willing to speak now?" Mr. Baronsimo, standing beside Garrett, said coldly. Yesterday, while Garrett was busy rescuing people, Baronsimo had been gathering information under the pretense of team negotiations, inquiring about the distribution of tribes, geographical features, and the whereabouts of powerful individuals.
However, he only received evasive and contradictory rumors. After a whole night of effort, he had gathered hardly any useful information.
It was an utter humiliation for his career as a bard.
The old shaman smiled nonchalantly at Baronsimo's questioning, adopting an attitude of nonchalance. He nodded at Baronsimo and then turned back to Garrett with a slight smile:
"Our Dandelion Tribe is not adept at fighting; we are only good at gathering information. Our people are like dandelions, scattered across the land, traveling and asking questions everywhere. This distinguished guest..."
He turned his face slightly, his gaze lingering on Baronsimo's face:
"Hasn't been here for a year or two, right? Recent major events reach us the fastest. As for the news about the strong, our grand shamans and warriors are more accurate in their estimates."
Mr. Baronsimo remained silent, his face stern. Garrett patted Appa and jumped off the deer's back:
"Then please inquire if anyone has seen my friend recently. Where and when was he last seen?"
He raised his hand slightly, and a silent illusion appeared, depicting the images of Lynn and Mr. Troka. The old shaman frowned at the images for a while, then shook his head and called the surrounding people to look. A group of tribal leaders examined the images one by one, each shaking their head:
"Never seen them."
"Never seen them."
"Such a skinny person with a black cat, I would definitely rember if I had seen them."
"No travelers like that have passed through our tribe—"
Garrett sighed heavily. Brother Lynn, you’re really good at hiding. You've traveled so far without visiting any tribe. Or maybe you took a different route; the widest river is even further west?
"Then please tell , which major tribes lie to the west and south from here? How are they doing now?"
The old shaman's expression relaxed, the wrinkles on his face smoothing out. He struck the ground with his staff, its tip deeply embedded in the snow, then lifted it forcefully. With a bang, the snow exploded, revealing the black soil beneath.
He then swiftly extended his other hand from his robe, making a quick downward motion. After murmuring a few words, small green shoots erged from the ground, quickly sprouting leaves and blooming into clusters of tiny yellow flowers, dotted with white fluff.
These fluffy dandelions spread unevenly across the ground, roughly outlining the continent's shape, with mountains and rivers faintly visible.
This was the technique of a nature priest... No, this thod of sowing seeds to form a map was far superior!
Garrett took a deep breath, staring at the old shaman. The shaman stroked his beard and said with a smile:
"We are currently in the territory of the Red Hawk Tribe, and this gathering was convened by them." He pointed to a small patch of yellow flowers, which quickly grew into white fluff:
"Next to the Red Hawk Tribe, across the river, is the Bison Tribe. They have the largest population and territory, and they suffered the most in this disaster..."
"Further west is the Black Panther Tribe, which has the most brave warriors. A few years ago, they mobilized a thousand n to fight southern invaders. They are also the most resolute in resisting the plague demon this ti..."
"Even further west, beyond two rivers, is the Stone Crocodile Tribe's territory. They have been enemies with the Black Panther Tribe, constantly fighting... The Stone Crocodile Tribe is protected by the Black Swamp God, who is said to be a subordinate of the plague demon..."
The dandelions at their feet blood one after another, and the white fluff was continuously blown by the cold wind, drifting away and taking root to bloom again.
Each patch of yellow flowers represented a tribe, and each cluster of white fluff indicated the famous dangerous areas and powerful beasts around these tribes.
Garrett concentrated on morizing. Mr. Baronsimo, scribbling quickly in a notebook, suddenly asked:
"Is the plague demon a legend or real? Has anyone seen it? What does it look like? How powerful is it?"
"Of course, it's real!" The old shaman raised his head in surprise, looking as if he couldn't believe Baronsimo doubted this. He cald himself, then waved his hand, and a cluster of dandelion fluff rose from the ground, forming a roughly human shape in the air:
"The plague demon has two forms: one is a tall, swollen man. He floats in rivers and swamps, dripping with pale green liquid that explodes constantly. Anyone who sees him falls ill and dies from vomiting and diarrhea..."
Sounds like a giant zombie... Garrett silently mused.
"The other form is a slender girl. She floats above the ground, her skirt made of flies, her ribbons of mosquitoes, and her makeup of miasma. Wherever she goes, she ignites high fever in people, causing them to die in a coma..."
Hmm, this sounds like a combination of various infectious diseases like typhoid, malaria, and yellow fever... It’s not impossible, but can such a 'feeling' and 'understanding' really be personified?
"Have you seen it?!"
"We have! We've even fought her!"
A loud voice answered. Garrett turned to see a chieftain striding over, a large pair of bull horns making him appear almost as tall as Bernard:
"The Plague Maiden is extrely difficult to fight! She sweeps through us like a black wind, and just a touch causes people to rot, turn black, and die from high fever... Only the strongest warriors can withstand her influence!"
"Another thod is to use fire," another grand shaman stepped forward. Garrett vaguely rembered him being from the Red Tree Tribe or the Red Cedar Tribe... He angrily rolled up his sleeve, revealing a large scar to the crowd:
"Using continuous flas to block the Plague Maiden's path and blessing warriors with the fire's protection so they can charge covered in flas—this scar on my body was caused by fighting her..."
Sounds like a necromancer’s plague spell. So many people have seen her and fought her directly; does such a being, a tangible totem god, really exist?
To carry a plague spell that infects upon contact, she must be at a very high level... Level 15? Level 18? Could she be legendary?
Garrett's expression grew increasingly serious. He dispelled Lynn's image and summoned another scene on the ground—a depiction of the Red Hawk Tribe, Bison Tribe, Black Panther Tribe, Stone Crocodile Tribe...
Each area was outlined in different colors. Then, he drew the winding rivers and the plateau's rise:
"My friend previously traveled along the 'Great River,' a wide river that one cannot see across. He followed it to the sea, then continued west, climbing onto the plateau, where he disappeared."
A silver line extended from the eastern coast to the river, turned south at the estuary, then headed west:
"So, which powerful tribes are on the plateau? Which deities should we be aware of?"
Instantly, all the grand shamans around Garrett fell silent. Heavy breathing echoed, as if a dark cloud had suddenly lood over everyone, with thunder rumbling within.
"There are very powerful deities on the plateau," the Dandelion Tribe's grand shaman finally said gravely after a long pause, coughing once:
"It is the kingdom ruled by the Eagle God and the Serpent God... So of our tribesn visited there years ago. They said the warriors there can throw spears glowing with golden light, and they are the closest people to the sun..."
"In that kingdom, the 'Serpent Priestesses' have hair that can turn into venomous snakes at any ti. They are the closest to the earth and the emissaries of death. They and the eagle warriors jointly rule the kingdom..."
"Their territory is sacred ground even the Plague Maiden dares not invade..."
If the Plague Maiden is indeed a manifest totem god, then the Eagle God and the Serpent God, who are even stronger, are even more troubleso. Garrett frowned deeply, not yet ready to continue questioning when he heard the second bad news:
"Recently, it seems the Plague Maiden has gained so opportunity to ascend from demon to plague god. She is creating death frantically here to gather enough power to swallow the Eagle God's kingdom and seize the Eagle God's divinity."
"Honored guest, if you intend to go to the Eagle God's kingdom now, you will have to cross the front line of the gods' battle. It is too dangerous... Why don't you stay for
a while, and let us send tribesn to gather so information for you?"
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