Everyone Is A Lord: My Talent Is A Little Too Strong Chapter 2905: 1590: Confusion and Bygone Days

In the opulent banquet hall, the Deerman nobility, their attire soiled and muddy, awakened in a daze and were immediately struck by the scene before them.

This was no longer the grand and luxurious chamber; the crystal chandelier that once gleamed overhead was now dim, entangled with crooked magic vines bursting from the walls.

Within the subdued light, the startled Deer People, nursing their aching heads, scanned their surroundings.

The floor, sticky and stained a dark black, was littered with remnants of decaying food, obscuring the once gleaming marble beneath.

Upon tables coated with grease and filth, blackened plates, long unwashed, hosted various luminous molds, alongside heaps of hearth ash, spoiled stew, and moldy bread.

“What is transpiring? How have we ended up in such a dire condition? Were we not just partaking in a splendid feast?”

Questions and bewilderment swirled in their still-foggy minds as they exchanged perplexed glances.

At this moment, many found themselves holding goblets filled with murky liquid and mouths full of stale bread that caught in their throats.

“Ugh!”

The sound of retching echoed through the banquet hall, intensifying the existing stench and pungent aroma of alcohol permeating the air.

Even the Deerman guards and servants wore expressions of misery, wiping their mouths.

“Clan Leader, what in the blazes is going on?”

The leading Grand Elder, clutching his throbbing head, pushed himself off the floor and addressed the equally bewildered Terry standing nearby.

“Hold on, my head is still reeling.”

Terry, stumbling, was steadied by two Deerman guards. He let out a burp that even he found repulsive.

Massaging his pounding temples, his unfocused gaze gradually sharpened, bringing to mind a sequence of recent events.

“Clan Leader, the famine deepens. To date, a staggering ninety percent of our cities and villages have dispatched requests for aid, while the remaining settlements have fallen entirely silent!”

Within the dim and dilapidated conference hall, a worried elder reported to Terry, who occupied the head seat.

“Clan Leader, the Throne Corridor has once again put pressure on us for this month’s tribute. If we fail to deliver sufficient provisions, the Broken Wing King may target us, the Moon Shadow Deer People, as an example.”

Another elder, with a heavy sigh, added to the dire news.

As the two elders concluded, others began to chime in with their own reports in a rush.

“Clan Leader, your directives to scout for new ore veins have yielded no results, and the magic ore veins our clan has been mining are successively being depleted!”

“Clan Leader, including Moon Shadow City and this very castle, we have been unable to replenish the magic crystals for the Absolute Defense Barrier and other protective arrays for half a year. Maintenance has completely ceased, and even the Light Crystal Stones that provide illumination are scarce in most districts!”

“Clan Leader, recent torrential rains have caused widespread flooding, exacerbating our predicament. Lower-tier Demon Beasts from the forests have shifted their territories, and our starving Deer People have resorted to hunting Tier 5 and above High-tier Demon Beasts, inevitably incurring significant casualties!”

“Clan Leader, the cultivation fields within the city have been shuttered for over six months due to the lack of magic crystal upkeep, critically hindering the cultivation progress of our young Deer People!”

“Clan Leader, the proprietor of the Shadow Market has sent word: should our Moon Shadow Deer People’s trade volume prove insufficient in the future, our access privileges will be revoked, and we shall cease receiving further invitations.”

…

As Terry listened to these reports, his complexion grew increasingly ashen, his expression fraught with distress. He was subjected to these grim updates almost daily, with the situation worsening with each passing day.

Compelling himself to maintain composure, Terry inquired with a sliver of hope: “What is the status of the appeals we’ve dispatched to neighboring powers? Provided they offer assistance during this crisis, our Moon Shadow Deer People shall undoubtedly reward them handsomely!”

“Clan Leader, according to the envoys who have just returned, all neighboring powers have turned down our requests, citing their own struggles.”

The Grand Elder sighed deeply and shook his head in resignation.

“Those ungrateful wretches! In our clan’s ascendance, every one of them flocked to us for their own gain. Now, they refuse to even lend a hand!”

Terry slammed his fist onto the table, his face darkening further.

Upon hearing this, the elders of the Deer People fell into a somber silence, their heads bowed in helplessness.

Having been defeated by the Broken Wing King, the Moon Shadow Deer People were no longer the formidable force they once were. The inexperience of their new leader, coupled with his increasingly unchecked exploitation, had plunged their clan into ever-greater hardship.

While it is said that even a dying camel is larger than a horse, in the face of relentless natural disasters, this situation undoubtedly represented the final, crushing blow, bringing all latent anxieties to the forefront.