The players' staff submitted a battle plan, and it was approved. Five-Spoked Wheel, temporarily taking over as commander in Old Qin's place, immediately got to work. Using the first batch of "trainees"—already sent to the defensive line to serve as commanders—as a link, he began mobilizing players to join the operation.
Detailed posts and video explanations of the plan also appeared on the forums and in the taverns. To "steady morale" and dispel rumors claiming he had died and calling the safety of the True Otherworld into question, Old Qin personally appeared in a video to give a rough explanation of the operation.
Why were they doing this? What was the point?
He laid out the logic behind the groundwork and the key points of the overall plan, breaking it down and explaining it clearly to the players who would take part.
This was absolutely not a meaningless suicide mission.
If everything went smoothly, with a little luck on their side, this operation would deal the increasingly frenzied gnolls an irreparable loss and greatly improve the defenders' strategic initiative.
Most importantly, it would boost morale along the Maginot Line, which was already in danger.
In a superstitious, medieval-like setting, epic wars were always tied, to some degree, to the supernatural. And the players weren't spreading feudal superstition—they really could come back to life after three days.
Old Qin's point was a classic one: just look at the commotion made by the last person who could come back to life after three days. That alone showed how the strange effects of this ability could shape the course of a war.
But even without Old Qin's explanation, the players were already enthusiastic about this counterattack.
They weren't thinking too hard about it. Their reasoning was simple: they were all brothers in the