Overlord: Start from the Goblin Lair.

"Bishop Luitpold is a very wise man."

When Kalade was directing his men to search in the direction of the original territory, in the jungle not far from their search direction, a man dressed in a gray-black robe and dressed as a missionary slowly opened his eyes, spoke to his companions, and cast an admiring look in a certain direction.

This man did not have a bald head. Black dragon patterns were coiled on his short robe, which meant that he was also a member of the Gray Ruins Dragon Society, but his rank was lower than the "Funeral Bishop" and the "Corpse Collector" - he was an Ash Priest, just like his companions.

These two people were the ones Jack had met before, but because they were in the dark, even if they really met, only Jack would be recognized.

"Just as he expected, that poor painter didn't choose the most reliable way to report the news, but rashly attracted a bunch of goblins," the tall figure stood beside his companion, "but even so, this can't cover up your fault - if I hadn't left a mark on his painting and observed the arrival of those goblins, I'm afraid we would have been caught off guard."

"I will be punished later," said the Ash Priest who had tried to read Jack's mind before, "Now is not the time to blame. We should follow Bishop Luitpold's next instructions and ambush them here..."

The two men subconsciously looked behind them, but they noticed nothing: except for confirming that the ambush was in place, they noticed nothing.

The ambush troops brought by the bishop are really powerful...

"Thinking about me?"

A breeze blew through the forest, and a black dragon with bloodthirsty eyes on its bald head appeared in the sight of the two Ash Priests. Its owner was a fairly young orc, and his light grey-green skin provided him with perfect cover in this environment, so that even his two men did not react immediately.

"bishop--"

"Alright, alright, there's no need to be so servile. We are just the most humble servants of the master. Ranks are for differentiating jobs, not for distinguishing superiors and subordinates." Although his innate appearance was a bit scary, Bishop Luitpold managed to make himself look amiable with his temperament and expression. "How far are they from here?"

"Reporting to the Lord! They should be within the attack range of this place in about half an hour!" The gentle words of the Bishop made the two Ash Priests feel like spring breeze, and they rushed to report their results. "I think we should let them get closer and attack them after they are completely in the ambush range, in order to wipe them out completely!"

"Hmm, hmm," Bishop Luitpold nodded with great satisfaction. He looked at the taller priest, "I remember you were a soldier, right? You are indeed professional."

"Your Excellency is too kind..."

"But I think that's not enough," the bishop interrupted his humility, "how many are there on the other side?"

"They are basically goblins, about forty in number," the priests replied quickly, "among them are two bugbears and a large goblin - probably the chief military officer here. When the lord here was fighting Carolina, he led his men to plunder the city-state and even intended to forcibly attack Carolina."

"How barbaric," Luipaud showed a trace of contempt on his face, "No wonder my lord was not satisfied with this last bite of 'food'. Can such a bandit be called 'civilized'?"

"Sir..." Hearing the other party say this, the two priests looked at each other in surprise, "If so, our Lord's plan is not..."

"It's okay. Since our Lord thinks the time has come, then it's acceptable. But before He takes this place into His hands, we need to do some preliminary work," the Orc Bishop closed his eyes slightly. "The town of Fromm in the north has been incorporated here as our Lord planned. The quantity is sufficient. Our goal is to make it reach a higher level of quality." "...It's a pity that Bishop Bachman failed first. Otherwise, if we had done both, the situation tonight would definitely have completely tilted to our side."

"That, that crazy..." The Ash Priests saw the surprise in each other's eyes. Even they had heard of the bishop's notorious reputation, but they were not crazy yet and did not dare to slander another funeral bishop in front of one bishop.

But Luitpold completed the entire reference himself: "Yes, it was that madman. He brought some changes to our operations."

"But fortunately, I am here. I will make up for his recklessness in the most foolproof way. I cannot let a small deviation interfere with my Lord's plan."

"Would you two like to join me?"

The orc bishop's eyes were so gentle, and his smile was so pure and sincere that the two priests were stunned. They stared blankly at the bishop's hand that he extended to them, and after a moment, they raised their hands at the same time and placed it on his.

They almost touched the object in Bishop Luitpold's hand at the same time: it was a stick-like object, cold to the touch, and made of iron.

More precisely, it was a crowbar.

The Ash Priest looked at the Bishop in confusion, his chaotic mind unable to understand why his superiors gave them this.

"Very good, thank you very much for your cooperation," Luibold nodded with satisfaction. He withdrew his hand, and the crowbar was naturally held by both of them at the same time. "Then continue to the next step - please."

A bloodthirsty red light flashed in the eyes of the two Ash Priests at the same time, just like the look in the black dragon mark on the bishop's head, but the latter had no intention of continuing to communicate with them. He turned around and disappeared into the darkness again.

There, some elf-like but dark-skinned hunters and assassins were waiting for orders from him and their leader. They were not many, only twenty-four people, but the blood debt on each of their hands was more than ten times that number.

There were fights underground, above ground, and even among the same clan. These fights were commonplace to them, and tonight was just a monotonous repetition.

"You are still so disgusting, Luipaud," a dark elf with a punk hairstyle walked towards Luipaud. His voice was neutral. If you didn't pay attention to the special curves on his body, it would be difficult to tell his true gender. "Why don't you just kill them? Such people are not worth torturing. We are not shadow spirits."

Wisps of blood drifted from the direction where the two priests were fighting, and seeped into the drow's bodies with their breathing. Luitpold did not absorb the blood mist. He needed a clearer mind rather than more powerful strength.

"This is a ritual, Sarlona," the Orc Bishop's smile was still warm and bloodless, "My main focus is destruction. It should not be just a structure, but a process."

"Decline due to internal strife is the most common form of 'destruction'. It will bring a... feast to the successors."

"Ah, it looks like it's over, faster than I expected." (End of this chapter)