Release that Witch Chapter 802: Ironwhip Discipline

Chapter 802: Ironwhip Discipline

Translator:Transn

Editor:Transn

"To build a new city... in this place?"

Simbady found it hard to believe his own ears. The Silver Stream got slimmer as it went south, finally it was entirely devoured by sand until it reached the Blackwater Valley. Hence came the name "the Land of Exile".

Without water and an oasis, how could they survive in the vast desert?

All the Sand Nation civilians on board were shocked by Thuram’s speech, several of them stated their doubts like the one that Simbady had.

"We can create water by ourselves." Thuram spoke loudly. "But before that, the vanguard troop has found a usable water source. You’ll see it when you get off the boat."

This aroused even more severe discussion.

"Create?" some people shouted. "How do we do that?"

"Silver Stream is a gift from Mother Earth. How could we create it?"

"By the name of Three Gods, only deities’ emissaries could turn the desert into an oasis..."

"If we can’t succeed, can we return the Southern Territory?"

"Right, you won’t leave us here and go back alone, will you?"

Confronted by these questions, Thuram hesitated for the first time. Simbady noticed that Thuram peeked at the Graycastle civilians before he thundered, "The chief is capable of anything. As as he said we can, we can definitely create water. What you need to do however, is to follow instructions. Besides, Lady Silvermoon has promised, if we can’t succeed, you’ll be sent back to the Port of Clearwater in advance and paid with three months salary!" At this, he patted at the whip upon his waist. "Of course, I won’t return without you. If anyone loafs on the job, be prepared to taste my Ironwhip!"

"That explains it..." Simbady realized that the leader of the team was not Thuram, but those poker-faced people from Graycastle who were standing behind Thuram.

During the holy duel, he had heard of the mightiness of these people more than once. Different from the Queen of Clearwater, they did not appear short of strength even when confronted by the warriors of big clans. But at this Endless Cape, even though they could defeat the watchdogs overnight, they still meant nothing in front of this endless sea of sand.

Both the northerners and the chief might have far underestimated the power of the desert.

Unfortunately, for them, there were not many options left.

About an hour later, the Concrete Boat slowly pulled in to shore. Dragging his sore and exhausted body, Simbady slowly walked off the boat. The moment when his feet touched the soft beach, he felt a long-lost relaxation.

Finally, his world stopped shaking.

"Look, what’s that?" Molly pointed somewhere remote on the inland. "A Watch Tower?"

Simbady looked in the direction that Molly was pointing at and saw a black iron tower standing in the sand not far from the beach. At the top of the tower were two flags, one of which was scarlet, the other was with a complex embroidery pattern.

Ordinarily, Simbady would wonder why the girl who he only had an occasional conversation with would stay with him all the time, but now he was too weak to consider things in this aspect. "Has someone... arrived ahead of us?"

"Let’s go and take a look."

"Later." He shook his head. "We’d better wait for Sir Thuram’s instructions."

Those Sand Nation civilians who had fallen into the water previously left a vivid memory in Simbady’s mind. He did not wish for the girl that he had a crush on to be whipped in front of everybody.

"Molly, finally I’ve found you!" Molly’s clansmen gradually came to her. "Simbady, what a surprise to see you here."

"I thought you had passed out on the boat from seasickness."

"Haha..." The crowd smirked.

Simbady lowered his head in embarrassment. Indeed, he was the weakest among his clansmen, be it in strength or guts. Usually, he would not mind being ridiculed, but today, in Molly’s presence, he felt especially shameful. In fact, his performance in this voyage was even poorer than Molly’s.

"Look, there is an iron tower!"

"How did people transport something so heavy to this place?"

"Probably by boat? I heard there is a direct shipping lane from Graycastle to the Endless Cape."

"Will we camp there tonight?"

"I guess so. Endless Cape is way more dangerous than an oasis. It must be guarded at night."

There were only just over 20 men were from the Fishbone Clan, which made them a fairly small group, but they were all of the young and strong members of the clan. One of them was called Carlone. Carlone was a strong performer among his peers, he was tall, handsome and skillful, which won him the favor of his clan chief. The moment he opened his mouth, he drew everybody’s attention, "I once escorted the exiled for Iron Sand City. According to my observation, the sizes of sandworms and scorpions in this area are much larger than those in an oasis. There’s even a rumor that a Giant Scorpion with Armor that dominates Earth also moves around here. We must stay alert at all times and set our tents as close to those from Graycastle as possible."

"Do you think Sir Thuram is telling the truth? Can the chief really create an oasis out of this desert?" somebody asked.

"Most unlikely," Carlone smacked his lips and said. "If he were really capable of that, he could have been the ruler of the desert without going through the holy duel. Why bother developing this area then?"

"What should we do next?" The crowd began to stir.

"Relax. The chief didn’t have to go through all of this trouble, only to exile us here." Carlone’s voice was full of calmness and confidence. "The chief might have decided on this action on the spur of the moment. When the people from Graycastle find that their goals can’t be realized, our work will end. As to three months of salary, Osha can’t get away with it!"

"That’s right, or no one will ever trust them again!"

"That’s reassuring. I’m Ok as long as we can go back."

The clansmen nodded, indicating their agreement, except for Simbady. He did not entirely agree with what Carlone had said. It was true that Graycastle had undervalued the desert and their plan of turning Endless Cape into a town was destined to fail. But looking at those soldiers in uniforms whose facial expression was nothing but solemn, he faintly felt the chief did not decide on this action on the spur of the moment.

By then, the crowd began scattering and some people began to move toward the iron tower. Thuram was still talking with the people from Graycastle, totally indifferent to what was happening around him.

"Shall we go there too?" some clansmen proposed.

"I think so," Carlone said, nodding. "If we’re really going to camp around the iron tower, we can get a better place if we go earlier. Everybody, follow me." He took a look at Molly especially and asked, "Do you want my help with your luggage?"

Molly hesitated, shook her head and then said, "Simbady said we’d better wait for Sir Thuram’s instruction... Didn’t he always emphasize the importance of following the discipline?"

"It’s not like we refused to get off the boat. Why does he care about this?"

"Simbady, you’re not intimidated by the Endless Cape, are you?"

"Perhaps he’s still sick." The clansman who ridiculed him previously, did so again.

"I’m just worried." Simbady raised his head. Just when he was about to justify himself, a burst of a hasty whistle interrupted him.

"Everybody, gather now!" Thuram, who previously ignored those who left, quietly walked in front of the clansmen, stuck out three fingers and grimly said, "I give you three breaths of time, after that, every breath means one whip. This is the second lesson I’m teaching you. Do remember that!"