Deng Lun's indifferent attitude influenced most of the Blood Race within the ancient castle. Even the goblins loitering in the corridors and courtyards were somewhat infected by this blind optimism.
They began to mutter amongst themselves in private. If even the regular army of the White Horse Kingdom couldn't completely conquer the Dark Land, what right did a bunch of bouncing Slimes have to fight all the way to the Eternal Night Territory?
That being said, necessary preparations still had to be made.
In the castle's council hall, Deng Lun remained seated in the main seat with his eyes closed, resting. He didn't participate in the heated discussion below, as if all the surrounding clamor had nothing to do with him.
Sir Casimir merely glanced at him, his thoughts involuntarily drifting as he pondered how he could obtain more Blood of Life.
Only a few of the most ancient members of the Blood Race were still fiercely debating how to deal with the approaching army from the swamp.
