Chapter 100: The Prince in Distress

Gray heard Jovan's warning and immediately halted, hesitating briefly before obediently retreating back into the forest.

The lizardman shaman maintained a state ready to cast spells at any moment, gazing intently at Jovan while appraising him from head to toe several times before speaking.

"Mage sir, you have a keen eye," he said, his words carrying the distinctive lizardman hiss, though his Common tongue flowed with surprising fluency.

Jovan stared silently at the shaman, his mind racing with calculations. Fireball was a potent 4th-level druidic spell of immense range and devastating power. The ability to cast it meant this shaman possessed at least seven druid levels—far superior to Jovan himself. Still, Jovan had Gre and Jamie as backup, giving the trio a realistic chance to defeat him. Yet even victory would come at a heavy cost. Both Gre and Jamie were sturdy fellows; a single Fireball might wound but not kill them. Jovan, with his frail body, would surely perish from the blast.

Deciding this, Jovan gestured for Jamie and Gre to spread out to either side. Fireball's radius was roughly ten feet, meaning they would all be caught in a single blast if together. By spreading out, the shaman could strike at most one of them. Whichever target he chose, the remaining two could counterattack and slay him instantly.

The lizardman shaman saw through Jovan's scheme, tension flickering in his eyes.

Both sides maintained a fragile standoff, the tension about to snap, the forest's atmosphere thick enough to choke.

Just as they eyed each other warily, rapid footsteps approached from the trees, two figures drawing near quickly.

Jovan feared the newcomers were the shaman's allies and glanced sideways at the sound. To his astonishment, they were the Dingdall brothers. What surprised him even more was the shaman's face, which brightened with visible relief upon seeing them.

What in the world was happening?

Which side were the Dingdall brothers truly on?

Before Jovan could puzzle it out, Roger Dingdall burst from the treeline. Seeing the tense standoff, he immediately raised his hands high and shouted, "Don't fight! We're all on the same side!"

Dick Dingdall followed his brother, first glancing at Jovan before turning to the lizardman and calling, "Visc, don't misunderstand! This is Jovan Vida, the man we've been looking for—my good friend!"

The lizardman shaman named Visc visibly exhaled in relief. He canceled his spell, set down his staff, and raised his hands in the traditional lizardman manner to show he meant no harm.

Jovan whistled to summon Jamie and Gre back to his side, then asked the Dingdall brothers with open puzzlement, "What exactly is going on?"

"This isn't the sort of thing that can be explained in a few words. Let's go inside, have some water, and talk slowly." Roger wiped the sweat from his brow and lowered his voice. "Visc is a fugitive who escaped from the Big Swamp. Could you let him stay in your forest cabin for now? It would save him from being spotted by the townsfolk and causing trouble."

Jovan shot Visc a glance and thought, So I guessed right after all—this fellow is a fugitive.

"If he doesn't mind keeping Gre company, he can stay in the cabin. Gre, you don't object, do you?" Jovan turned to the Gray Bag Beast.

Gre pursed his lips, barely holding back from saying Mog. He disliked sharing quarters with lizardmen, but seeing the other was also a fugitive and moved by their shared plight, he finally nodded reluctantly to accept the arrangement.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Vida," Visc said, bowing deeply.

Jovan had never met a lizardman so polite, and his opinion of Visc improved.

The four of them, plus the dog and Gre, squeezed into the wooden cabin one after another, nearly bursting the small house. Jovan gave up his only chair to the guest from the Big Swamp and sat on the table himself. Gre hugged Jamie and sat against the fireplace on the floor, while the Dingdall brothers had to make do on the windowsill.

Dick took the water bag Jovan offered and drank deeply, wiping his mouth with a sigh of relief. In a pitiful tone, he begged, "The only place in Delin Town that can hide Visc is this forest. My good brother, you can't just stand by and let him die!"

Jovan frowned, sensing that a major trouble was about to descend upon them.

"Dick, don't rush. Tell me clearly what trouble Visc is in and how you know him."

"This matter is quite complex to explain in detail," Roger suggested. "Let Visc, the one involved, tell it himself."

Jovan's gaze turned to the lizardman shaman, and he adopted a posture of attentive listening.

The chair designed for humans did not suit the lizardman's body. Visc sat on it, but the thick tail behind his rear made it awkward. He had to turn the chair ninety degrees in place, lean against the back, and only then felt somewhat comfortable. After gathering his thoughts, he broke the silence.

"Mr. Vida, have you heard of the Coldblood Tribe?"

Jovan nodded. The Coldblood Tribe was the lizardman group living in the southern Big Swamp. The shaman Con, Chud, and Chud's two lizardman servants he and Gre had slain had all come from that tribe. Visc must belong to the same group.

"Our Coldblood Tribe has always been led by the chief shaman as great elder—that is, tribe chief—overseeing the religious rites honoring our tribe's patron god Sammuanya. The current great elder of the Coldblood Tribe, Miliq, whom the tribesmen all revere, is my father," Visc said with a trace of pride.

"So you are a prince. My apologies," Jovan replied politely.

Visc shook his head. "Don't mention prince. Now I am simply a fugitive burdened with deep hatred."

The downfallen lizardman prince bit his lip, restraining his grief, and continued, "In recent years, our lizardman race has never expanded its forces beyond the Big Swamp, maintaining peaceful relations with the residents of Delin Town without invasion. All of this is thanks to my father's restraint. He repeatedly warned the aggressive young members of the tribe against harming humans unprovoked and forbade plundering human villages. This is why our Coldblood Tribe has coexisted peacefully with the human communities around the swamp for many years."

"That's the truth!" Roger nodded in agreement. "My father had dealings with Elder Miliq and admired the wise old man greatly. It was thanks to the non-aggression pact signed between Elder Miliq and my father that the residents of Delin Town have been able to hunt and fish on the swamp's outskirts in recent years without fear of lizardmen attacks."