Chapter 245

Chapter 245

Player Forum:

Druid: Our team has arrived at the Pantheon Forest.

Milk Tea Dog: Our squad is here too.

Yeyue: We're almost there, but we've spotted the reinforcements - the Blackwood Giants.

Human Watermelon: Oh oh, seems like the situation is looking up.

Matcha Milk Green: Not at all! It's terrible over here! Waaah, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die!

Black Cat: Don't worry, I'm on my way!

Druid: We're about to ride on the Blackwood Giants as well, not just us, but a super mighty general is coming with us! Stay tuned!

Crazy No More: Can someone give us a hand over here too... I'm running low on ammo.

The God Amongst Men remained in the Pantheonic Forest, overseeing the entire situation and guiding the endless stream of players who were either respawning or freshly logged in. He instructed them to mount the Black Tree Folk or the large cats to reinforce Human Perfect's troops. Seeing the current state of affairs, a solemn look clouded his eyes.

"Hmm? What's wrong? Is the situation dire?" A Druid, about to depart, noticed The God Amongst Men's expression and couldn't help but comment, "It looks fine to me. Aren't quite a few teams arriving steadily?"

"…Human Perfect's team is indeed coming, but haven't you noticed that the arriving teams are mostly smaller in number? Even if they're farther away, they're reaching faster than those with more Human Perfect members."

"Ahh, that's true. Maybe it's harder for larger groups to coordinate?"

"…It's probably not just that," The God Amongst Men replied.

While it was possible that larger Human Perfect teams required more coordination from the players, there was more to it than that.

In front of him, multiple live streams were open simultaneously. These were provided by the players he had asked to escort Human Perfect, allowing him to stay informed of the current status at all times. At this moment, he observed that the teams with more Human Perfect members were surrounded by more monsters and were being attacked more frequently compared to the smaller groups.

It was as if the Evil Deity was deliberately sparing the smaller teams while focusing on ambushing the directions with more Human Perfect players.

A cold sweat trickled down The God Amongst Men's forehead. Unable to resist, he glanced upward through the foliage, at the night sky hidden from view. Above their heads, he knew, the Red Moon must be hanging high.

This battle still held its share of uncertainties.

"Keep your eyes on the one in front, seize any chance to break through!"

The troupe from Ocris City, having just survived an attack by aquatic creatures, faced another challenge: beetles with multiple short legs burrowing out of the ground, functioning like land mines. Upon contact, they spewed corrosive liquid, resulting in five deaths and seven injuries among the escorts. Even two players had fallen.

Worse, they had to be vigilant against sudden attacks from creatures with oversized limbs, resembling gorillas but with two heads. A single hit would severely debilitate a player.

Under the threats of the land mine beetles and dual-headed gorillas, some players were forced to use spells for defense. However, in their current situation, using magic meant initiating a countdown to self-destruction – effective but costly to their overall combat strength.

But there was no time for hesitation now.

"Oh, this is too tough!"

"I've watched countless escort missions, and Matcha Milk Green, Blood Thug, and Tax Collector are the toughest. They struggle at every step."

"They have the most NPCs to protect, too."

"Hmm, I did the math. They're losing a player almost every 800 meters. No matter how many they have, that rate of loss won't last. We're still kilometers away from the cave. What do we do?"

"Sigh, it's too painful to watch."

"Has the rescue not arrived yet?"

"The Druids are on their way, and reinforcements are also coming. You all must hold on!"

"Someone good at math, calculate how many kilometers per player it would take for them to reach the reinforcements. I can't bear to witness it anymore."

"It seems almost impossible, especially with the current situation. Even if all players sacrifice themselves, the last few kilometers will have to be completed by the NPCs alone."

"That's just heartbreaking."

The live stream viewers could still analyze calmly from an overall perspective, while the actual players completing the mission had no room for such thoughts. Protecting the NPCs was far more challenging than simply clearing a dungeon, as they needed to kill monsters while cautiously safeguarding the NPCs, or the mission would fail.

Fortunately, these NPCs were quite obedient, seldom straying from their path, which relieved the players who had suffered through countless protection missions. They only needed to focus on eliminating the enemies.

...Or so they hoped.

Quintbridge trembled, carefully watching his steps alongside his companions. He couldn't help but glance at the escort team outside. In Ocris, he was considered one of the bravest, even daring to volunteer for trials to test the rules. However, it was always these self-proclaimed investigators who took on the task of summarizing the rules, piquing his curiosity and admiration for this organization of investigators.

Of course, he was supportive and eager to embark on the journey to the New World, but he never imagined that the path would be so treacherous.

They hadn't even laid eyes on the 'ship,' the forest that should have been their destination. They initially assumed the most challenging part would be sailing on the boat to the New World, yet they found that the road from the city to the forest itself was a blood-soaked path.

Along the way, he had witnessed friends from the city being killed by monsters emerging from the river, dragged into the depths of the water. He had also seen his kindly neighbor perish after stepping on a landmine bug.

But no matter how many innocent lives were lost, it paled in comparison to the horrors endured by this escort team.

Kittridge glanced at the investigators walking outside the protective circle. He knew that each fallen person must have been someone's friend or loved one, yet they didn't have time for sorrow. Swiftly, they picked up their weapons and resumed fighting. Their unwavering determination made him feel ashamed.

Should they truly be entitled to their protection without question?

Kittridge tightened his grip on his cold weapon. After another player fell outside the group, he couldn't resist leaving the center of the formation, shouting to the investigators, "I'll help you!"

He had limbs and wasn't afraid of death!

Player PuddingMeowMeow took a deep breath and bellowed back, "Get back! Stay out of the way!"

NPCs running around during escort missions were the most annoying!

Kittridge: ...

He ran back to the group, dejected. A friend patted him on the shoulder. "I told you so."

Pudding meowed, "Of course, you can raise your weapons in defense, but don't step out of the protective circle! We don't have extra manpower to protect you all! And rest assured, there will come a time when you'll need to fight for your lives!"

Soon, Kittridge understood what he meant.

Suddenly, another dual-headed gorilla swung its fists and struck a player who failed to dodge. The player took the full force of the gorillas' punches, reaching the brink of death. Due to his poor constitution, he fainted. With fewer and fewer players, this player was right behind the Unchanged's orderly line!

"Young and able-bodied, take up your weapons! Elders and children, stay at the back of the line!"

Thanks to God Amongst Men's foresight, every five meters within the crowded Unchanged line, there was a former decision-maker or manager. Upon the emergence of an emergency, they immediately gave orders to the Unchanged. With years of authority behind them, the initially panicked Unchanged managed to regain some composure. Kittridge tightly gripped his dagger, standing at the very front to face the dual-headed gorillas head-on.

Bang!

It wasn't even a contest. The gorillas' immense strength sent the dagger flying. Kittridge felt a sharp pain in his hand, and below his wrist went numb. His courage vanished as he saw the gorillas' fists swinging towards him. Fear of death instantly consumed his mind.

Death awaits! Death is certain!

In the grip of sheer terror, Kittridge's legs gave way, and he fell to his knees, inadvertently evading the two gorillas' assault. Clutching his head, he went unnoticed as they charged into the ranks, causing chaos and screams to erupt throughout the line.

Amidst the commotion, Kittridge's vision was awash in a crimson glow. He couldn't tell if it originated from the crimson moon above or the mingled blood of the Woken on the ground. The cries of agony around him echoed eerily, morphing into an incomprehensible mad whispering.

Players from other nodes noticed the situation and hurried over, detonating bombs to eliminate the dual-headed gorilla. Only then did the scattered Woken dare to return, reforming a crooked line. No one paused for them to regroup; instead, players shouted frantically, "Keep moving!"

The temporary safety did little to soothe Kittridge. As he teetered on the edge of sanity, someone helped him up. "Can you walk? Are your legs injured?"

Staring blankly at the person, Kittridge's silence was met with Jimmy's understanding. After a couple of attempts at conversation, Jimmy fell silent, conserving energy to keep pace with the group.

Not all monsters attacking the line were dispatched promptly. Sometimes, they broke through the protective barrier, leaving those in the rear to listen to the cries of horror ahead or behind while navigating around sporadic eruptions of mole worms.

It was a hopeless journey through hell.

Kittridge no longer entertained thoughts of aiding others. He realized how fragile his courage truly was. He trudged on, observing the dwindling number of player guardians and the increasing frequency of bizarre breaches in the line. The companions around him thinned out.

When, oh when, would this endless march come to an end?

As they progressed further, sacrifices became routine. Matcha Latte followed the suggestion from the black cat in the bullet comments and allowed players to use magic only when the team was on the brink of annihilation, like a limited-use life-saving charm for critical moments, barely pulling the group back from the edge of death.

Moreover, to prevent spell failure, each player resorted to either Good Luck Charm or Last Ditch Effort. By expending their luck attribute points, they ensured a minimum chance of success.

The bad news was that this approach was akin to slow suicide, as bad luck in such a perilous environment could mean instant doom.

The good news, however, was that players who used magic would die anyway, rendering the side effects of Good Luck Charm negligible!

"As long as I die fast enough, bad luck can't catch up with me!"

"What a magnificent sight, everyone's using Good Luck Charms!"

"But we're running low on players, there are only a couple of stragglers left."

"Aaaah! Is help not coming yet?!"

"Black Cat: Almost there, almost there!"