"An army made up of two thousand monsters..."
The scout's roar instantly doused the fervor that had just ignited beneath the Broken Bridge. The excitement and agitation on the faces of more than eight hundred players quickly faded.
"Are you kidding me? Two thousand?"
"How are we supposed to fight that? There aren't even a thousand of us here, and our equipment is all over the place!"
"We were tricked! This isn't a trial at all. They're sending us here to die!"
The sliver of morale they had finally managed to rally showed signs of collapsing in an instant.
"All of you, shut up!"
With a furious shout, Scott stepped forward.
He grabbed a player who was shouting about retreating by the collar and glared at him with eyes blazing.
"Die? Haven't you had enough of living on the edge of death? Being hunted like a dog, hiding in sewers and gnawing moldy bread—is that the life you want?"
"Now the gods have given us power and a chance to fight with dignity, and your first reaction is to run?"
The player was shouted pale, and he stammered without daring to speak.
Roderick walked over and patted Scott on the shoulder, signaling him to let go.
He did not berate the panicking players.
Because he understood their fear.
Two thousand monsters spawned by the Jealousy Plague—a number like that was enough to crush any elite team.
"The scout said they went ahead to scout the route."
Roderick's voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears.
"There were only forty of them. Against two thousand monsters, being scattered was inevitable."
He paused and swept his gaze over the frightened, uneasy faces around him.
"But we aren't forty people."
"We have more than eight hundred Prospective Believers here! Every one