Not only that, but after spitting, the old fellow looked at Fang Senyan with a smug expression, as if daring him: What can you do about it? Kick me out! I’d welcome it.

Facing Old Murburg’s provocation, Fang Senyan calmly stated:

“If that is the case, then I have nothing more to say.”

With that, he threw all the items obtained from Murburg—the Pandora Soul Crystal, the Na’vi secret medicine, and other things—in front of Old Murburg, tossing them aside as if they were mere trash. Old Murburg was overjoyed, but seeing those treasures casually strewn on the ground made him tremble with heartache. Only after retrieving and securing everything did he sneer:

“It’s best if you didn’t want them.”

However, at that moment, Fang Senyan had already retreated into the thick of the Thanator swarm and commanded the vast horde to charge eastward. For some inexplicable reason, Old Murburg was suddenly gripped by an indescribable sense of dread. He abruptly realized something and hurriedly roared:

“Hey! The Mosak tribe is clearly to the west, why are you heading east?”

The dark-skinned man remaining nearby smiled thinly and replied:

“He’s going to collect a debt.”

Old Murburg looked stunned:

“Collect what debt?”

The dark-skinned man pulled out a toothpick and lazily picked at his teeth:

“The chief returned all your things, didn’t he?”

Old Murburg instantly felt the treasures in his embrace become searingly hot, like glowing embers, even feeling a sensation of his skin being burned. He nodded numbly.

The dark-skinned man spread his hands decisively:

“Then that settles it. Since our transaction is void, the Chief naturally needs to reclaim his investment in the Tsaheylu tribe. And that doesn’t just include those Mosak captives, oh no.”

“Right!” Jin Kuang suddenly leaped out from behind Mogansha, clutching a battered, old-fashioned calculator. After tapping away furiously for a while, he swiftly announced:

“A grand total of one hundred and seventy-nine captives, eighty-four tons of beast meat, one hundred and seventeen pelts, sixty-two barrels of liquor, eight plastic bags, two toothbrushes. Of course, compensation for emotional distress/loss of youth/child-rearing costs/personal income tax/interest, etc., will be calculated separately, as the current eight-out-fourteen-return calculation is rather complex.”

Old Murburg’s facial muscles contorted incessantly, and he couldn’t help but bellow:

“How can there be that much?”

Mogansha glanced at him coldly:

“Great Shaman, you truly owe us that much. Oh, right, Mr. Jin Kuang, you forgot to account for one item.”

Jin Kuang looked aghast, then shrieked:

“How could I? How could I possibly miscalculate! For me, such a bizarre and childish error is simply impossible!”

Mogansha eyed Old Murburg with malice:

“Before this old coot met us, his son was a useless cripple! So, that’s two more legs!”

Jin Kuang clutched his face and screamed dramatically:

“My friend, how do you repossess something like legs that have already grown onto a person?”

Mogansha stated coldly:

“What method do you use for chicken legs? You chop them off, of course. The Chief said that when dealing with certain shortsighted fools who burn their bridges, there’s no need for reason. If they dare withhold even one pound of meat, we will take two pounds from the flesh of the Tsaheylu tribe members to compensate!”

Hearing this unscrupulous pair’s exchange, a fierce glint flashed in Old Murburg’s eyes. His colossal, jet-black Hammerhead Titanoboa also sensed its master’s mood, beating its wings and roaring with intense fury! The sensation was like an impending collapse of towering mountains bearing down upon them. Clearly, the old man had already harbored murderous intent.

But Mogansha merely curled his lip disdainfully, strode forward, grabbed the barrel of his golden gun, and swung the butt around, smashing it hard into Old Murburg’s face! Mogansha struck with such force that Old Murburg’s nose instantly began to bleed, sparks dancing before his eyes!

Old Murburg had never anticipated such an outrageous action; for a moment, he felt all the blood in his body rush to his face. With a wild roar, he was about to retaliate, but Mogansha spat on the ground in return, his eyes filled with utter contemptuous disdain:

“Old thing, you’ve let greed blind you to the fundamentals. How do you compare to K’T’O’k? How does the Tsaheylu tribe compare to the Mosak clan? They are currently being beaten until they resemble dogs, tails tucked between their legs, hiding in the Wind Stone Highlands and not daring to emerge! Even your damn Mother Earth, Eywa, can’t do anything about us. And you still dare play your bridge-burning games with us?”

The dark-skinned man continued, gently tapping Old Murburg’s face with the butt of his gun:

“Let me tell you, if you dare touch a single strand of my hair (the dark-skinned man was bald, after all), one person from the Tsaheylu tribe will die! If I lose a single drop of blood, then everyone in the Tsaheylu tribe will have their blood drained!”

The hand Old Murburg had placed on the hilt of his bone blade on his chest froze instantly. His face turned suddenly ashen, his mind went blank, and his whole body shook violently. Even though Mogansha could likely be taken out by a combined strike from him and his powerful Dragon, and even though Mogansha’s gun butt was insultingly slapping his face slap-slap-slap, he could make no move, he dared make no move!!!

Mogansha seemed quite satisfied with the cunning old rogue’s reaction. After a while, he said:

“The Chief said just before he left that he was only making a feint, to see if removing the external pressure would draw out the Mosak forces. However, if he doesn’t get first-hand intelligence from within the Mosak tribe within twenty minutes, that feint will turn into a genuine debt-collecting operation against the Tsaheylu tribe.”

Old Murburg instantly closed his eyes. Then, his face, mixed with indignation and misery, gradually turned wooden. Next, he actually knelt down directly in the dust and kissed the back of Mogansha’s boot, speaking in a completely emotionless tone:

“You will quickly receive what you desire, my Master.”

After speaking, Old Murburg returned the items he had taken back, one by one. Then, he leaped onto his beloved Hammerhead Titanoboa and flew away, flapping its wings. This trip took about ten minutes, and when Old Murburg returned, he immediately tumbled off the Titanoboa, falling unconscious to the ground.

A terrifying wound was visible on Old Murburg’s thigh—it looked as if a giant beast’s claw had grazed him, tearing away a long strip of muscle. Blood spurted out like a fountain.

His mount was also crying out mournfully while beating its wings; at least three or four long arrows were deeply embedded in its massive body. Had it not been for the Black Titanoboa’s colossal size and formidable strength, those few arrows would have been enough to kill it!

Although the Mosak tribe lacked high-speed aerial mobility, their anti-air capabilities were formidable and absolutely not to be underestimated!

Mogansha frowned upon seeing this scene. Just then, Fang Senyan returned. Seeing that Old Murburg had truly risked his life this time, he didn't press the matter further. Fortunately, human medical standards were far superior to those of the Na’vi. They quickly treated, bandaged, and dressed Old Murburg’s wounds. The old man’s resilience was also remarkable; he woke up after a short while. He still struggled to kneel and kissed the instep of Fang Senyan’s foot before recounting everything precisely:

“The Mosak tribe can likely hold out for a long time. They are out of food, but they have started killing their wounded kinsmen and tamed beasts for sustenance.”

Hearing this news, Jiao Shi couldn’t help but exclaim:

“Isn’t K’T’O’k afraid of causing internal strife?”

Old Murburg said woodenly:

“Everyone will redirect that hatred onto us. They will become even more unified because of the flesh and blood of their kin... But that’s what the former Chief told me; my own eyes and ears have witnessed resistance and weeping.”

Fang Senyan nodded, silent for a moment, then turned and walked away.

Night descended once more.

Fang Senyan and his group camped in the dense woods beside the Wind Stone Highlands. The Swarm’s hosts were scattered across the sky twenty-four hours a day. These tireless creatures served as the best sentinels and eyes; not even a bird could fly out unnoticed. Therefore, Fang Senyan and his group camped boldly in the woods without posting any guards.

The Tsaheylu tribesmen, naturally accustomed to life in the jungle, casually draped some inconspicuous foliage over their campfire, allowing the faint white smoke to drift upward. This completely eliminated the bothersome blood-sucking insects. With their help, Fang Senyan’s group found things even more convenient; they quickly settled into their tents and sleeping bags and fell asleep. Knowing that a grueling battle was inevitable sooner or later, everyone was conserving their energy, resting as thoroughly as possible to meet the harsh fight in peak condition.

However, Fang Senyan suffered from insomnia that night. He was preoccupied with the Mosak tribe problem. Because he had previously infiltrated a Mosak city, Fang Senyan was intimately familiar with their strategically defensible terrain. Thus, if K’T’O’k was truly determined to use his own people as provisions, the situation would indeed become extremely tricky. A direct assault using the Thanators might not guarantee victory, and their group’s time remaining in this world was severely limited.

Pandora’s night was not dark; instead, due to the abundance of bioluminescent flora, it possessed a hazy, ethereal beauty. Fang Senyan, however, knew that if he encountered difficulties, he should not reveal them to his teammates unless absolutely necessary, as it would undermine his authority and only sow internal chaos.