Diary of Guarding Monster Girls-Chapter 529 - 319 "Book of Hatred" (6K, please subscribe!!!)_2

Chapter 529: 319 "Book of Hatred" (6K, please subscribe!!!)_2

The rest of the tribe are the common people, the new chieftain is the Great Shepherd, and Herbert assumes the position of a deity.

It was the deity who delegated power to the Great Shepherd here.

Herbert’s move here was inspired by other Divine Churches’ practices.

No matter what evil deeds the Great Shepherd does, accountability stops there.

The deity voluntarily gave him power, so if any problem accidentally arises afterward, it’s none of the deity’s business.

Want to hold the deity accountable?

Impossible to do.

The deity is exalted, separate from mortals.

All those misdeeds are the Great Shepherd’s fault, and pressing further would indeed be impolite, you know!

With this relationship, plus Svanni’s slave contract on them, there’s no worry about these gray dwarves, who became diligent workers.

And Herbert, being a terrifying existence possessing Legendary Power and the ability to unleash Epic Power when necessary, doesn’t go everywhere with bodyguards—this wouldn’t fit the persona of a strong man.

Moreover, Herbert doesn’t believe Miser would actually attack him.

She wouldn’t dare.

Finally, Herbert safely and contentedly took Miser’s mushroom carriage to get here alone.

Miser noticed the ritual issue a while ago and moved her main body from deeper underground to the surface layer, hiding here, ready to seize a person (puppet) at the ritual’s end.

This is why Herbert’s trip didn’t last too long, without fearing weird mushrooms growing on him.

After a moment of mutual gaze in a space filled with variously sized mushrooms and Miser’s main body, the two confirmed they bore no hostility to each other.

"Hehe."

Herbert nodded in greeting, displaying a warm smile, and said, "Miss Miser, we finally meet."

"To meet you smoothly without others’ influence truly delights me."

Compared to Herbert’s feigned enthusiasm, the oppressed Miser found it hard to keep up appearances and slowly said, "Yes, but it’s a pity, as I wasn’t looking forward to a meeting like this."

The mushroom merchant scrutinized Herbert, sarcastically retorting while retracting the enchantment spores emitted secretly.

This spore was harmless and non-toxic, its sole effect causing restlessness in one’s heart, leading to slight changes in attitude.

After confirming that Herbert could even ignore the enchantment, another possibility dawned in her mind.

With such a talented existence, is another one about to emerge?

She didn’t wish for such an outcome, snorted, and deliberately changed the topic.

"Heh."

With a wave behind her, a huge mushroom split open, disgorging the unconscious person within.

"Look, the one I mentioned—do you recognize him?"

Herbert squinted at the slightly rising and falling chest and, after confirming the person was still alive, relaxed his vigilance considerably.

"I recognize him, oh I recognize him well."

In that moment, he was quite candid, smacked his lips, and said, "Hmm, though I’m embarrassed to admit it, he is indeed one of my subordinates in name."

Not the other lucky one, but the ever unlucky Cyril since meeting him.

Why is his luck so abysmal?

Herbert truly began to wonder.

Why is this child so scared? Could there be a ghost on me?

...Well, if the Divine Soul can be considered a remnant of a female ghost’s soul, then indeed there is.

Hitting himself during a bad-mouthing speech at the Monastery, targeted by a creep while disguising as a slave, only to faint on the roadside halfway...

To say nothing of the distant past, had it not been for a passing benevolent mushroom person picking him up, he might’ve been devoured entirely by creatures of the Dark Territory.

Herbert looked at the painfully slumbering Cyril and shook his head slightly, "Still, I envy such an ability to sleep anytime, anywhere; it’s so convenient."

But just as Herbert was about to brush it off with a few words and ask Miser to awaken him, he caught a glimpse of something at Cyril’s chest.

"Hmm? Is that...a handbook?"

He didn’t touch it; just a mere glance from him prompted Miser to instinctively use the spore silk on the ground to draw it out, offering it to Herbert.

"Hmm?"

Herbert looked surprisingly at Miser, finding her duplicity quite interesting.

Although not officially acknowledging becoming Herbert’s subordinate, Miser didn’t refuse to provide some free help.

Oh dear, she indeed truly knows how.

It’s clear that this young lady indeed wishes to improve a lot.

Looking again at the book in his hand, it was a small booklet made with tanned leather cover, with a sharp-edged Alien Race script engraved on the cover.

"...What is this?"

"Hmm?"

Miser glanced at it, somewhat surprised as well, and explained:

"These are magical energy characters used by Dwarves when enchanting forged weapons. Translated into common language...it probably means ’resentment’? ’Hatred’?"

"Why would he inscribe magical energy characters on a plain book cover?"

The mushroom merchant hadn’t seen such a practice, but Herbert thought of an explanation—this is a little book of keeping grudges.

Dwarves are a quite proud race.

If they believe themselves wronged, whether genuine or merely their imagination, they strike back immediately, remembering for years afterward.

They even record such grievances in their Book of Hatred for their descendants to avenge them.

"So, that is to say, this is Cyril’s Book of Hatred?" Herbert looked at Cyril and chuckled silently.