If 5 Can Summon Natural Disasters, Why Bother With Formations and Tactics? Just Charge!

# Chapter 5: When You Can Summon a Calamity, Why Bother with Formations and Tactics? Just Charge!

Morland Village was located southwest of Cadman City. Because of its proximity to trade routes, it had become a stopping point for merchants traveling north and south through the Transia region. The entire town had developed quite well by riding the wave of the tertiary industry.

Murphy had never been here before.

He hadn't even left Cadman City before, but from the assistant driving the cart beside him, he had picked up some bits of information about Morland Village.

For instance, this place was the fief of an elder vampire. The village chief was an old blood servant who secretly did things humans would consider evil to line his pockets for that vampire elder.

A large number of vampire worshippers lived in the village, so it was also considered a "safe zone" for the Blood Eagle Clan.

"But sir, you still need to go thirty li east. That area isn't safe."

The tall assistant gripped the horsewhip in his hand and whispered to Murphy, who was gnawing on a piece of dry bread:

"When Lord Jade sent us out, he said several Witch Hunter squads were active in that area. They're the Pioneer Legion's hounds and have already destroyed several villages that worshipped the blood clan.

The village where I was born, Lim Village... ah, never mind. It was miserable."

Murphy didn't answer.

He ate his bread while pricking up his ears in the night, using his vampire perception, strengthened by the darkness, to carefully distinguish any potential dangers around him.

Although the tag on the character card before him that had been filled to [0/10] summons gave him considerable confidence, necessary caution was still essential.

Seeing that Murphy wasn't responding, the assistant driver didn't say anything more. But Murphy had been secretly observing him all along.

This guy was dressed strangely.

He wrapped himself from head to toe like a vampire walking in sunlight, almost like a mummy, leaving only his eyes exposed.

But Murphy was certain this wasn't just blood servants imitating their vampire masters out of worship.

Because even this guy's eyelashes were white.

By human standards, that was clearly abnormal.

"You know what Lord Jade meant by sending you all out to 'help' me, right?"

Murphy finished his bread, shook the crumbs off his hands, and said quietly:

"Are you mentally prepared, buddy?"

The young assistant clenched his fist at the words. After several seconds of hesitation, he nodded:

"Yes. Lord Jade didn't hide the danger of this mission, and the nine of us weren't chosen at random. Perhaps..."

He paused, as if mustering great determination to finish:

"Perhaps this was just a 'trash cleanup.' Ah, sir, I don't mean that! I'm not saying you're trash, it's just... ah, you've seen us. Even among the blood servants, the nine of us count as the old, weak, sick, and disabled."

"No need to explain. Even if you were cursing me under the guise of scolding someone else, I wouldn't care."

Murphy was thick-skinned.

Over the past month in Cadman City, he had heard much more vicious words many times over. His nerves had grown so coarse they were practically necrotic.

He just waved his hand and asked the assistant curiously:

"I don't care if those eight people in the cart die on the road. They were already dead long ago; their weak hearts just don't know it yet. But you're different!

Your life force is very healthy and strong.

Even stronger than an ordinary person. You should be an ideal candidate for a blood servant warrior.

Don't doubt my judgment!

I'm a vampire. Sniffing out life is my instinct."

Faced with Murphy's question, the assistant hesitated. Finally, under Murphy's curious gaze, he took off his hood and face covering, revealing skin even paler than a vampire's.

Along with completely white eyebrows, beard, and short hair. The skin on his neck was so thin that the blue veins beneath were clearly visible.

Albinism?

Murphy blinked.

In Transia, a region ruled by vampires and extremely closed-off and superstitious, such a condition would indeed be seen as an abnormality or some kind of omen of monstrosity.

No wonder he kept his face covered.

"I'm a defective product too. They all call me 'monster.'"

The assistant said bitterly:

"I was abandoned by my parents as a child. Lord Jade took me in. Now that the lord needs me to contribute to the family's cause, I have no objections."

"But you're still a little unwilling, right?"

Murphy chuckled and shook his head, asking:

"What's your name?"

"Maxim! Sir, my name is Maxim Sener Vlad."

He answered immediately:

"Please don't worry. I will definitely escort you to the mission location, even if it costs my life!"

"A master who sends you to die without even hiding it—is he really worth your loyalty?"

Murphy muttered to himself.

One look at the fanatical expression on this guy's face told him he was dealing with a "seasoned blood essence," a true vampire worshipper—one of Transia's "specialties."

The blood servants were full of people like this. Some were influenced by magic, others craved power.

And then there were those like Maxim, raised from childhood with a twisted worldview.

But Murphy wasn't in the mood to set this guy straight right now. Mainly because an orthodox vampire teaching a fervent blood servant not to blindly trust vampires felt like a bit of a joke.

Murphy thought for a moment, then picked up the set of armor and weapons that Lord Jade had supplied and tossed them to Maxim.

"Put these on. Out of the nine of you, you're the only trained fighter. If real danger comes, you'll be the one doing the work."

"No, Lord Murphy. This is a gift from Lord Jade. I can't—"

Maxim immediately refused, but Murphy pulled back his cloak and pointed at the set of elder armor he was wearing—clearly more luxurious and higher-grade.

"I don't need it. Just put it on. I don't like it when something I've given gets handed back to me. It's like insulting a vampire's rare burst of goodwill."

With words like that, Maxim had no choice but to quickly change into the old leather armor, buckle the sharpened rapier at his waist, and pull his cloak back on.

His attitude toward Murphy grew more respectful. He glanced at the village ahead and said:

"We'll reach Morland Village soon, my lord. There are only two hours until dawn. We can rest here and set out again at dusk.

Don't worry—I know this route well. We'll reach the Midnight Hunters' camp by tomorrow night."

Murphy nodded.

He wasn't exactly looking forward to this suicide mission himself.

For now, he sat cross-legged on top of the carriage like a pirate king at the bow of a ship, looking left and right, and casually tossed his newly acquired perception and reconnaissance skill toward the village.

Just treating it as grinding for proficiency.

But that casual toss stirred up trouble. A faint reddish glow appeared eerily before Murphy's eyes, framing two houses at the edge of the village.

Murphy's heart jolted. He narrowed his eyes.

His vampire pupil structure shifted, rapidly zooming in on the scene. The reddish light coalesced into four human figures.

[Unknown hostile targets locked and aiming. Threat level: Unknown.]

"Wait!"

Murphy grabbed Maxim's raised whip hand.

Maxim looked at him in shock. Murphy gripped the sword hilt at his waist and dragged him off the slowly moving carriage, then gave the old horse's rump a hard lash.

"Hey, you lot—go ahead to the village and scout ahead."

Murphy called out to the eight emaciated, dazed blood servants in the carriage canopy:

"I've got something to deal with. I'll catch up."

These blood servants, already reduced to walking corpses by prolonged bloodletting, showed no reaction. But the old horse pulling the cart, spurred by the whip, slowly picked up speed and clattered toward Morland Village ahead.

Murphy pulled his assistant down into the grass outside the village, crouching and staring at the scene.

Maxim could already sense something was wrong. He looked reluctant, about to speak, but Murphy stopped him with a gesture.

"Like you said, this is a 'trash cleanup.' So let's make the most of them! Letting them die cleanly is more dignified than living like this.

Enough talk. Get ready."

No sooner had he spoken than the carriage near the village entrance was riddled with crossbow bolts shooting from both sides. The old horse was killed by a single arrow and collapsed. Figures burst from the houses on either side, charging into the carriage canopy and swinging their blades.

The low, mournful cries of the eight blood slaves dying tore through the silence of the night. The two sneaks hiding in the grass both shuddered.

"This is less than a day's travel from Cadman City!"

Maxim's hands trembled as he whispered:

"How dare they?"

Murphy was scared too.

But he handled it a little better than Maxim—after all, even a worthless supernatural creature's physique could crush a human veteran.

"They do dare! Looks like the Blood Eagle Clan's so-called midnight authority can't scare anyone anymore. They're just paper tigers."

The unlucky vampire snapped at Maxim beside him, then narrowed his eyes and stared fixedly at the village entrance.

The Witch Hunters lying in ambush found no target on the carriage, so they immediately rushed out of the village to search outward.

Luckily, there were only four of them.

Murphy breathed a sigh of relief, staying crouched as he began to gesture for a spell.

That's right—he was about to "unleash his ultimate move."

The same sensation he'd felt at noon erupted within Murphy. This time, the number of little players he was summoning was larger, and it nearly drained the thin dark spiritual energy inside him in an instant. Then six streaks of light wove together like shuttles, coalescing into human forms beside Murphy in the blink of an eye.

The Leading Pigeon, who had come once before, stretched his body like a veteran.

The other five guys from his dorm, now conscious, looked around left and right, standing there dumbfounded—clearly stunned by the ultra-realistic "game graphics."

Ge Bao wasn't lying!

This game's graphics looked fucking real!

"Holy shit! Awesome!"

One person shouted excitedly, then reached for his pants, clearly about to do something indecent. But this commotion couldn't possibly escape the four Witch Hunters charging toward them.

Even under the cover of night, that excited yell pointed them straight to their target.

The leading Witch Hunter raised his hand crossbow and pulled the trigger without hesitation. With a thud, the chubby guy who'd just yelled "awesome" and grabbed his crotch got shot clean in the head.

An arrow stuck out of his skull as he dropped to his knees with a plop, then collapsed without a sound, scattering into glowing specks flying through the air.

Murphy and Maxim were both stunned.

Fuck!

He'd been in the game less than three seconds and already cashed out.

Bro, you trying to scam me here?

That practiced?

That racket startled the others too. They instinctively hit the ground, which also saved them from the crossbow bolts flying out of the darkness.

"Why did only six of my warriors show up?"

Murphy counted heads and was horrified. He'd clearly summoned ten people. The Leading Pigeon, who was lying beside him clutching his head and trembling, heard the NPC's confusion, turned around, and complained:

"It's afternoon work hours right now, bro!

Not everyone has as much free time as us broke students. Anyway, what's going on? Who are these people? Why are they trying to kill us?"

Hearing that his "otherworldly warriors" still had to go to work, Murphy almost lost it. I'm telling you about a grand plan to save the world! And you answer me with I have to go to work?

Do you even feel ashamed?

Work, work—work my ass! Can working be as fun as gaming?

But the vampire took a deep breath, quickly pulled himself together, and spoke in the low, serious tone of an NPC handing out a quest:

"It's the grand plan!

More precisely, it's the first step of the grand plan!

I must make you brave but inexperienced otherworldly warriors familiar with the brutal combat of this savage world. Before the grand plan truly begins, I need to train you into warriors who can fight ten men each. Yet your performance in this first battle has disappointed me.

Perhaps becoming 'mobile blood bags' is your true destiny.

Get up!

My warriors, stop sticking your asses in the air and trembling like little chicks. That's too shameful and undignified.

Listen!

My servant and I will charge from the front. You harass them from behind!

Otherworlders, this is your last chance. If you're this useless, I'll have to abandon you and find more qualified warriors.

Now!

Charge, for our grand plan!

Warriors, attack!"