Act Four: Darkness Spreads

Sophie's plan was as follows.

If his memory was correct, Buchi's captain of the Guard Detachment at this time should be the famous veteran—Maden, a veteran who, like Brando's grandfather, had lived through the November War.

Sophie knew this because this NPC would teach travelers the Scout skill in the game.

But the real reason this veteran was famous was that, during the First Black Rose War, he had made a huge mistake as Buchi's Captain of the Guard. He had misjudged the purpose of Madara's army.

He had thought they were merely invading the border as usual, so he had evacuated Buchi's villagers at the very beginning. Originally, he had a chance to counterattack, drive back the Undead Army's vanguard, and withdraw unscathed at his leisure.

Unfortunately, that opportunity had slipped through his fingers.

He should have become a hero of the kingdom, but in the end, he had walked down another, darker path. Sophie felt both pity and curiosity toward such a person.

He pitied the latter half of the man's life, but what made him curious was how the other party had discovered Madara's Undead Army in advance. After all, this was the only variable in the entire Golan-Elson region.

Could it be because of me? An impossible thought suddenly surfaced in Sophie's mind.

But he immediately cast that absurd thought aside.

Now he had to change history. He had to find a way to warn the other party. Fire symbolized warning and invasion in military regulations. Sophie could only hope that the other party was clear-headed enough—

There was a loud banging outside the door. Every second dragged by, as if they were submerged in a tense atmosphere.

"Brando, they're coming in!" Roman gripped Mason's Hammer tightly in both hands. Her brows furrowed prettily as she stared at the kitchen door, as if afraid it might be knocked open at any moment.

Sophie had no time to think about that. If the Skeleton Soldiers swarmed in, they were finished. But when he heard the Merchant's Daughter shout, he still couldn't help turning to look at the door:

The kitchen door rasped and screeched. Sharp swords repeatedly stabbed through it and withdrew, Madara's blades gleaming white like the fangs of beasts. Something slammed into the door with a tremendous crash, and a layer of dust sifted down from the ceiling.

The wooden door groaned and creaked, and the cracks suddenly widened—

"Calm down. Calm down. Just pretend this is still a game. Sophie, think carefully about all those quests you went through. This isn't anything special..."

He forced himself to breathe steadily while wrapping an oil-soaked cloth around a bundle of straw and firewood, then tying it tightly with a leather cord. He performed the task with practiced ease. Making a homemade torch was one of the most basic skills in the game, though it barely qualified as craftsmanship.

The conditions here were relatively favorable. He even knew how to make torches that could burn for only five minutes. He remembered trying it once in Nokhan and Hain Underground Tunnel, using dry lichen and brushwood.

But he didn't have much time. The door shuddered again, and the doorframe gave a loud, splintering crack. Plaster sprayed everywhere before drifting down in a flurry.

"Brando—!" Roman felt as if her heart were about to leap out of her throat. She blinked her bright eyes.

"I'm here. Don't worry. Hold on a little longer." Sophie was already sweating profusely. He sawed the iron rod against the flint several times. Sparks flew wildly, but the torch simply refused to catch fire—

After all, reality and the game were still somewhat different.

The Skeleton Soldiers' tremendous strength was too much for the bolt. With a sharp crack, it broke in two. The wooden door tilted, but still did not burst open.

A bare skeletal hand reached in from outside, intending to break the bolt from within.

The young Merchant's Daughter was startled. She immediately raised her hammer and swung it over, but with a bang, the hammer struck the bone and merely opened a crack in it. Madara's Skeleton Soldiers felt no pain. It paused briefly, then continued tugging at the bolt.

Roman stared blankly at the sight for a moment, even forgetting the hammer in her hand.

"Brando, Brando, what do we do...?" she asked nervously.

At that moment, the torch finally caught fire.

At the same time, the bolt fell to the ground with a clang.

The door flew open. A Skeleton Soldier holding a treasured sword pushed it aside and stepped in. It turned its head, and the two flickering red flames in its hollow eye sockets locked onto the two pale-faced youths.

What was that young man doing?

Before it could react, a black object rapidly enlarged in the undead's gray vision. With a crack, a Wood-chopping Knife buried itself in its forehead.

"...This is your last resort. When throwing a sword, remember to keep your hand steady, lower your center of gravity, and don't hesitate. You and your target must be as close to a straight line as possible..."

"...If your enemy is a skeleton, your best targets are the junction of the shoulder blade and arm, the base of the thigh, or the spine. Unless you're confident you can decapitate it in one strike, its skull isn't its greatest weakness..."

"Damn it—!"

Watching the Skeleton Soldier fall backward, Sophie cursed inwardly. The Military Swordsmanship technique of Throwing was an advanced art, but as an experienced warrior, he had never found it difficult. It was only after throwing the Wood-chopping Knife that Sophie suddenly remembered he was no longer that seasoned veteran.

With his strength in the game, that throw would probably have split the skeleton in two along the skull. But now, just as Brando had learned during Militia training, it had merely hindered the enemy slightly. The knife stuck in its forehead had done nothing to the overall structure of the Bone Frame.

"Miss Romane, look out!" Seeing that it was about to stand upright again, he immediately pulled the dazed Merchant's Daughter behind him.

"Brando..." The Merchant's Daughter was terrified.

"Don't worry. I'm here." Sophie said the words, but he was not confident either, especially when he saw the dense mass of Skeleton Soldiers preparing to surge inside.

With the situation so urgent, he had no time to worry about anything else. He looked around, but there was nothing useful. The Bone Frame was already rising. What could he do? Was he supposed to give up and watch helplessly?

Sophie shook his head. He swore that, from childhood until now, he had never once disregarded life and death as completely as he did at this moment—not counting his experiences in the game, of course. His mind went blank. He had only one chance. Win, or die trying!

He charged forward, gritted his teeth, seized the arm holding the sword, and almost instinctively hurled the Bone Frame backward.

People often used all their strength instinctively at moments of extreme tension. The Bone Frame, having lost its balance, was powerless to resist. It clattered as it fell backward, forcing the Skeleton Soldiers behind it to retreat one after another.

The Undead Army's advance into the room stalled. It lasted only an instant, but that was enough.

The young man was overwhelmed by bewilderment. He could hardly believe he had actually succeeded. This was reality—was he really still that useless gamer?

He instinctively threw the torch in his other hand toward the dry straw, leather goods, firewood, and other kindling piled in the corner.

The flames surged upward—

"Let's run, Brando!" The Merchant's Daughter came running from behind and grabbed his hand.

She felt that she had never been this nervous in her life. She remembered meeting the young man next door for the first time more than a year ago. He had seemed shy and easy to talk to.

Yet today, that utterly ordinary young man had displayed extraordinary calm and courage. Was this the air of the "reliable man" her aunt was always muttering about?

What a strange feeling—

The young girl's heart filled with indescribable thoughts. When she noticed that she was holding his wrist, her heart began to pound uncontrollably.

"Brando?"

Smoke had already spread through the kitchen, filling it with a choking smell.

Only then did Sophie snap back to reality. Martha above, he had actually set his grandfather's old house on fire. Brando would never hear the end of this—though he was Brando now.

His thoughts were in chaos, but amid the confusion, Brando's memories still took the upper hand.

Then a dry, low voice came from beyond the smoke: "Move faster, Dead Soldiers. Put out the fire and drag out that bug. We only have one minute—"

The voice reminded the young man that he was still in danger and had to find a way to escape. But Sophie knew that lower undead driven by Soul Fire instinctively feared flames. The Lich would have difficulty making its skeleton subordinates overcome that fear in such a short time. This was his turn.

But fire was a double-edged sword. He had to move quickly.

"Miss Romane, follow me." Sophie casually pulled down a coil of sausages from the ceiling, then led the Merchant's Daughter toward the back door. It wasn't because he was hungry. Before fleeing, carrying basic food supplies had become almost an instinctive habit for players of The Amber Sword.

The fire grew stronger, turning the surroundings into a sea of flames. Smoke billowed, and the temperature rose rapidly. Sophie soon felt his way to the small door in his memories—the one used to deliver food. He pushed it. It was locked.

Sophie coughed, while the Merchant's Daughter behind him was coughing even harder. He steadied his mind and felt downward again, quickly finding the metal bolt. He was about to open it when he hesitated.

He remembered something else.

"Freya!"

Perhaps to the residents living in the Elson-Golan mountain region, the stars of April and the night sky of May were not very different. But from the end of May onward, the temperature gradually rose. Looking down from the gentle slopes of the Yusong Mountains, one saw a sea of red and white flowers stretching out since early summer. In peaceful times, this was the most tranquil and harmonious countryside in all of Eluin, yet for centuries it had suffered the ravages of war.

The girl raised her head. On this summer night, the sky was crystal-clear, as if carved from glass. From west to east, a bright band of light crossed the entire night sky, passing through the many constellations of myth and legend.

She stood at the village entrance, looking toward the other side of the mountain. Freya was somewhat worried. The tremendous noise earlier had been particularly unsettling. Hadn't there been reports of undead activity nearby recently? Could it be...

Hearing someone call her, she turned around and was surprised to see a young boy with a childish face running out of the village entrance. He hurried to her side, bent over, and gasped for breath.

"What's wrong, Little Finis? Did something happen?" The girl's voice was gentle and clear.

"Did you hear that sound just now?"

"Yes, that's why I came out to look." Her gaze drifted back toward the hillside. "I'm really worried about Roman. Her aunt also went to the nearby town... I heard it hasn't been safe lately, so I asked her to stay at my house for a few days, but she refused."

The boy looked up at her and couldn't help widening his eyes—

The girl's light-brown hair was neatly tied into a long Ponytail behind her head, accentuating her heroic bearing. She wore close-fitting gray-white leather armor over a thick cotton shirt. A sleeve badge was attached to her left shoulder, bearing an abstract Pine Leaf painted in black.

A short sword hung at her waist, a medieval Western European short sword. A Flame Emblem was set on the iron disk of its guard.

If Sophie had been there, he would have recognized her outfit at a glance—Buchi's Militia. The Golan Black Pine was the most common tree in the Elson-Golan mountain region, as well as the emblem of Buchi's local troops.

The Guard Detachment was well equipped and even had battle uniforms. Only the local Militia wore this gray-white leather armor sewn from Gray-maned Ox hide.

In Eluin, every young person in the countryside received regular Militia training. The training usually began at fourteen, ran from October to March each year, and continued until the age of nineteen. Trained youths and even adults could serve as Militia at any time during peacetime, while in wartime they became the most important source of reserve troops. Thus, ever since this law was enacted in the Year of Thunder, Militia training had become one of Eluin's most important military measures.

"Doesn't that guy live over there too? I heard he served as a militiaman in Brags." The boy asked, puzzled.

"Hmph, people from the city can't be trusted." The girl swept her long ponytail back and frowned. "It's precisely because that fellow is there that I'm worried!"

"That's prejudice, Big Sister Freya."

"What do you know... Never mind." Without turning around, the girl scolded him, "All right, say what you came to say. Boys shouldn't chatter like girls, understand?"

Little Finis shrank his neck. "Did you know? Captain Maden has ordered the Guard Detachment to assemble!"

A trace of surprise flashed through Freya's bright eyes. "Captain Maden? How do you know?"

"That fellow Bresen told me." Little Finis blinked. "When I came out, he had already mounted his horse and gone to report to the Guard Detachment."

"Do you know what happened?"

"I don't." The boy shook his head.

The girl turned around and cast a worried glance toward the hillside. In the darkness, she could vaguely make out the outline of the manor.

"Wake everyone up. We're going too."

"Freya, it's so late. Aunt Syl will kill us!" The boy widened his eyes and asked incredulously, "Shouldn't we wait for news tomorrow?"

"You're such a coward!" The girl glared at him, though she knew Little Finis was telling the truth. Remembering her aunt's fearsome authority, she—despite being Buchi's Militia captain—didn't dare act recklessly either.

"You're no different..." The boy had just muttered the words when he saw the other party turn around and sternly signal for silence.

"Freya?"

"Shh—" The girl tilted her head and gestured for him to listen. In the darkness, a faint whimpering sound clearly drifted over.

"What's that sound?"

The whimpering drew closer from the distance, moving rapidly overhead.

The girl's expression changed. She looked up and was just about to dodge, but it was already too late. A black shadow suddenly plunged down from the sky and buried itself in her shoulder, making her cry out as she fell backward.

"Big Sis!"

"Run, Little Finis, run!" the Ponytail Girl cried out in pain.

Arrows rained down.

Sophie stopped.

"What's wrong, Brando... cough?" The future Merchant's Daughter seemed to sense something was wrong and couldn't help asking.

Sophie did not answer. He had remembered something.

When Madara launched its surprise attack back then, it had been in the game. In the game, it was impossible to avoid players. Players did not work at sunrise and rest at sunset like NPCs did. One could even say that a considerable portion of them were genuine nocturnal creatures.

He remembered that when Madara began its operation, he had encountered interference from players elsewhere as well—players like him. Yet most of Madara's operations had still succeeded.

Why?

Yes, he finally remembered what kind of era this was. Eluin, that ancient nation, was moving toward its twilight, while its neighboring country was entering an age of turmoil and upheaval.

A gathering of brilliant generals...

Sophie couldn't help sighing. Madara of this era would not merely produce legendary commanders whose fame would later shake the continent one after another. Thanks to its military reforms seven years earlier—the Black Rose Reform in Year 368—those reforms had laid a solid foundation for it. The steady stream of outstanding apprentices it produced was supporting the nation's war machine from the bottom up.

And that strength would ultimately reveal itself in a war like this.

During the First Black Rose War, the powerful execution and judgment displayed by Madara's army were enough to make everyone take notice. Sadly, until Eluin's destruction, the world never truly became vigilant.

That was precisely what was happening.

The nation hidden in darkness was rising, and it would soon reach its zenith.

"Those people are no ordinary soldiers."

As Madara's longtime nemesis, Sophie had been especially impressed by its outstanding mid- and lower-ranking officers. Only those who fought them for years could understand how shrewd they were—

Sophie placed his hand on the cold bolt, and his heart sank little by little. By the time he closed the door, the other side should already have launched its attack on Buchi. They would not give him time to warn the village, not even the slightest chance.

And there might even be Madara's Skeleton Soldiers behind this door.

What should he do?

(PS: This chapter is 5,000 words. Pretty generous of me, right? Wish me luck—if I make it onto the homepage tomorrow, I'll add another chapter on top of the double update!!!)