However, just to be safe, he assigned a militiaman to carry a blade and follow Jinke, supervising him.
Having received Lynch’s approval, Jinke was overjoyed. He rubbed his hands together and walked toward his goblin kinsn, a "kindly" smile on his face, like one kinsman seeing another.
「About half an hour later.」
Eight intelligence reports were laid out before Lynch, each one densely packed with writing.
It seed these guys had no backbone for defiance until death. To save their own skins, they had spilled everything they knew, speculated, and even guessed at.
He quickly scanned the eight reports, and his brow furrowed slightly.
The prisoners had provided a large volu of information, but the quality was poor. Most of the intel focused on the layout of the tunnels in the mine’s outer area, routine patrol routes, and the locations and shift changes of the outer sentries.
As for deeper secrets, like the Necromancer’s exact location, the construction progress of that "ship," and its true purpose, the reports were either vague or based on hearsay and speculation.
The theories were wild and varied, but they also indirectly confird the high level of secrecy surrounding the mine’s core area. These outer mbers simply had no access to the truth.
What left Lynch even more speechless was that, at the end of all eight reports, the prisoners had unanimously expressed their desire to "abandon the darkness for the light" and "willingly serve the great Lord Necromancer like a loyal dog or horse."
Furthermore, they scrambled over each other to report their companions’ various "evil deeds"—from bullying the weak to theft, rape, and plunder. To save their own lives, they were truly willing to do anything.
To uphold the solemn vow of a Necromancer who always keeps his word, Lynch’s gaze swept over the trembling Blue Scarves. He then pointed out two of them—n who were "universally condemned," had committed countless cris, and were thoroughly disliked.
"You. And you." Lynch’s voice was as cold as ice.
The two Blue Scarves who had been singled out instantly turned ashen. They trembled like chaff in the wind, wailing and begging for rcy.
Lynch just gave a slight wave of his hand.
His number one confidant, Bone Jade, walked over, grabbed one in each hand, and dragged them to the center of the clearing.
Under the terrified gazes of the other prisoners, Bone Jade’s blade rose and fell, and he slaughtered them cleanly and efficiently.
Imdiately after, his number two, the Bone Mage, stepped forward. With a tap of its Magic Staff, a pale death energy enveloped the two fresh corpses.
Soon, two Skeleton Soldiers with vacant eyes rose to their feet and silently blended into the surrounding Sea of Skulls.
The entire process was swift and ruthless, filled with the unique deathly aesthetic of the Necromancer lineage.
As for the remaining prisoners, having witnessed their companions turn from living n into Undead Servants in a matter of minutes, they were all silent as cicadas in winter. They didn’t dare raise their heads, and their bodies trembled even more violently.
In that mont, the last shred of hope in their hearts vanished into thin air.
Finally, Lynch’s gaze fell upon a Blue Scarf who had written the most detailed report and had even taken the initiative to draw a detailed map.
"You perford well. After the mission is over, you will be allowed to leave. But for now, you need to stay with the group."
Hearing this, the Blue Scarf felt as if he had heard the music of the heavens. He was so moved that tears and snot stread down his face as he kowtowed repeatedly. "Thank you, my lord! Thank you for sparing my life!"
The other prisoners couldn’t help but look at him with eyes full of envy, jealousy, and even resentnt.
Then, Lynch extended his Magic Staff, and several wisps of sinister, cold energy burrowed into the chests of the five remaining prisoners, right where their hearts were.
The prisoners only felt a chill in their chests, as if they had been stung by sothing. It was followed by an unshakable, heart-pounding sense of impending doom.
"This is a Death Mark, just a little trick to keep you from running away," Lynch said in a flat tone. "Now for your second chance to atone for your cris with ritorious service."
"Find a way. Use a reasonable excuse to lure any of your remaining comrades from the mine’s outskirts to these ruins. Whoever does the best job will have a chance to be the next one pardoned. As for the one who lures the fewest, or tries any tricks..." His voice trailed off for a mont as he glanced at the two newly transford Skeletons. "You’ve already seen the consequences."
’As for how I’ll complete my ntor’s task, I naturally have my own considerations.’
’This isn’t so dungeon crawl where I have to charge into the complex environnt of the mine. Luring them out to be eliminated is, of course, the best option.’
The mont his voice fell, the prisoners’ eyes turned bloodshot.
To survive, and to get rid of that damnable Death Mark, they had to give it their all.
Everyone began frantically racking their brains, thinking of how to lure out any other people or goblins they knew.
Driven by their instinct for survival and the threat of the Death Mark, their efficiency was remarkably high.
Over the next while, the ruins, which had been silent for years, suddenly beca "lively."
Wave after wave of clueless Blue Scarves, goblin chanics, and even a few n who looked like low-level overseers were lured to the ruins with all sorts of excuses.
All in all, another twenty to thirty people arrived, including a Blue Scarf leader in charge of this outer area.
As for these new "guests," Lynch naturally gave them the sa treatnt, capturing them one by one.
Once the number of prisoners grew, Lynch conducted another screening. He executed a few who were widely despised and clearly not good people, transforming them into Skeletons. Then he planted the Death Mark on the rest and began the third round of his "fishing" operation.
Watching these prisoners scramble over one another to betray their comrades to save their own skin, even proactively offering suggestions to help him lure others more effectively, Lynch felt a strange mix of emotions.
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