Chapter 94: The Bloodline of the Demon Lord

"The Wolfheart clan has not disappointed your trust. We have captured all the natural shamans of the minotaur tribe, including the common minotaurs, and they are all here now."

The winter wolves, with their formidable tracking skills, had finally captured the fleeing shamans.

Six minotaurs, their bodies marked with intricate runes resembling the veins of the earth and possessing calm, wise eyes unlike the ferocity typical of their kind, were pushed forward by the winter wolves.

They carried a profound sense of power, as if intertwined with the earth beneath them, their every move seeming to draw on the spirit of the land.

Clearly, they were the natural shamans, or shamans, of the minotaur tribe.

"Foolish minotaurs, before you stands the greatest Eternal Dragon of the northern ice plains."

"To defy the will of the Eternal Dragon is to invite total destruction upon your tribe!"

One of the winter wolves snorted coldly, communicating with the minotaur shamans in Giant.

Minotaurs also speak Giant, as well as Orcish and Common, so they understood the winter wolf's words.

"The Ironback tribe has worshiped the spirit of the earth for generations and will not submit to any dragon."

"Death is but a return to the embrace of the earth, where the spirit will grant rest to our souls."

One of the minotaur shamans replied calmly, unmoved by the threats.

Minotaurs are typically impulsive and rash, but as shamans under the influence of widespread animism, they possess a demeanor far more composed and substantial than many humans.

Garon raised a claw, signaling the winter wolves to cease their talking.

He looked down at the minotaur shaman who had spoken first. Instead of threatening or tempting them, he asked with genuine interest, "Followers of the spirit of nature, can you make the spirit of the earth manifest itself?"

"I have a great longing to see the spirit of nature, yet I have never witnessed it personally."

"If you can satisfy my curiosity, I could let your entire tribe go free."

The minotaur shaman looked up at the silver dragon blocking the moonlight, struggling to maintain his composure, and said, "The spirit of the earth exists in the boundless expanse of the land. The events here are insignificant to it; it does not concern itself with whether you yearn for it or not."

Garon stomped his foot, causing the ground to tremble violently and fissures to spread.

"What about you, then? Does the spirit of the earth care about its followers?"

"If I kill you, will the earth spirit seek vengeance on me?"

This was a rhetorical question from Garon; spirits of nature are non-sentient embodiments that do not care about faith.

Summoning a hint of power, the shaman caused a faint ripple to spread through the ground. The nearby winter wolves tensed to attack, but Garon stopped them.

The cracked ground where Garon had stomped began to heal in the wake of the ripples, smoothing over as if coming alive.

"The spirit of the earth is all-embracing; it nurtures all things, supports the world, and endures countless trampling and destruction without complaint."

"We worship it, yet we never expect a response."

"You wish to see the spirit of the earth? The vast, majestic land beneath your feet is its embodiment, its flesh; it is everywhere."

"Look down, and you will see that it already knows of all your transgressions."

After a pause, the minotaur shaman looked at Garon and continued calmly, "Surrender to the embrace of the earth spirit, and it will forgive your ignorance, absolve you of your sins, and allow your soul to rest and find peace in the earth after death."

Garon: 

Well, even as prisoners, they do not forget to propagate their faith.

Communicating with such fervent believers was proving troublesome.

Garon himself was a non-believer. The so-called gods were just the most powerful beings around.

The spirit of nature was even less significant than the gods and could easily be exploited by gods, crafted into artifacts, or kept as divine servants.

If he didn't believe in gods, there was even less chance he'd believe in the spirit of nature.

Garon turned to look at the non-shaman minotaurs, observing them for a moment.

A few minutes later, he noted that apart from a few young minotaurs, the rest had resolute expressions, their bovine faces showing a stubbornness not afraid of death.

Under the leadership of the shamans, they too held deep-rooted beliefs in the spirit of nature, lacking only the power.

"I will ask only once."

"Would you rather die completely, allowing your entire tribe, your bloodline, to be extinguished, rather than become my kin?"

"Think carefully before you answer."

Garon spoke to the min

otaur shamans.

However, these shamans did not hesitate in their reply: "Absolutely impossible."

When it comes to stubbornness, minotaurs excel; as the winter wolves had said, they would rather die than submit.

Since they were unwilling to become higher-status kin, they would have to serve as mining slaves, Garon sighed regretfully.

After some thought, he said to the shamans, "I respect your faith, so I will not force you to change your beliefs."

"But slaughter is not my desire. Therefore, if you agree to serve for a hundred years, your tribe's bloodline can continue to walk the earth and worship your spirit of the earth after that century."

The younger minotaurs were not as steadfast in their faith as their parents, presenting an opportunity for reshaping. Given that minotaurs do not live very long and preventing them from influencing their offspring, it was highly likely that those growing up in a true dragon's territory would no longer follow the spirit of nature.

If they still refused... Garon would have to award them to the winter wolves as a reward. The Wolfheart clan had suffered no casualties, but their pack had sustained significant losses.

"The great Eternal Dragon, you radiate compassion and mercy."

"Your benevolent light will make all creatures submit, making the sun and the moon pale in comparison."

Hearing Garon's words, some gnolls enthusiastically but mistakenly showered Garon with flattery.

The confused and jarring Draconic was too noisy and irritating, causing Garon a headache, and he commanded them to shut their mouths.

It was no wonder the gnolls fervently sought true dragons; they were useful and utterly loyal, but true dragons did not enjoy having them as kin, as the gnolls' dog-like Draconic was too peculiar.

Besides, Garon did not consider himself compassionate.

After all, the minotaur tribe had been living well until he ordered the winter wolves to attack them for miners, making him nothing short of a demon in their eyes.

Meanwhile, the minotaur shamans conferred among themselves, hesitating.

Believers in the spirit of nature are fanatics who believe even inanimate objects like stones and metals possess souls.

For fanatics, faith is as vital as life itself.

But to maintain their faith and ensure the continuation of their bloodline, it was worth considering servitude for a century.

After some discussion, the minotaur shamans unanimously decided to swear to the earth spirit to endure a hundred years under Garon's servitude in exchange for the survival of their bloodline.

This tribe of minotaurs, known as the Ironback clan, believed themselves to be descendants of the minotaur king Baphomet, left behind in the prime material plane, making them a noble line among minotaurs.

But Garon was unimpressed; now that they were his mining slaves, their noble bloodline meant little.

As for King Baphomet… Garon knew of him from the dragon lore.

He was a demon lord of the Bottomless Abyss, ruler of its 600th layer, a formidable demon whose existence spanned countless years.