"Holy crap! We really can't hold out anymore, Lord Qin! We should retreat! The dev team's gone crazy. This difficulty is clearly designed to wipe us all out!"
"Shut up! Retreat, my ass! We're not afraid of dying. Even if we can't hold out for five days, we'll die standing! Where's my heavy machine gun? Lumina! Where the hell is your machine gun? Open fire! Keep them pinned down!"
"Lord Qin, all the hunting crossbows have been destroyed. The veteran gamer Lumina already got killed. She and a voodoo gnoll assassin took each other out in a last-ditch exchange. There are fewer than a hundred brothers left in the trenches.
"Lord Qin, we can't keep fighting! We have to retreat! We can't let the flag be destroyed on our watch!"
"Cowards, get lost!
"Where's the launcher?
"The launcher can still fire, right? Shoot every last shell! Drive these damn Filthy Claw gnolls out of my position.
"Fuck!
"Melee squad! Fix bayonets! Charge with me!"
At midnight on the third day, Bloodflag Heights had descended into madness. Under the harsh light of several bright illumination spells, the warriors of Transia finally faced their fiercest challenge yet: a genuine clan elite had entered the battlefield.
This was no longer a ragtag force mixed with a handful of elites, like before. The first wave of gnoll brutes the grand warlord Hurley had sent into battle from the Filthy Claw Clan numbered two hundred, and a terrifying one in ten of them were elite fighters.
Supporting them from behind were six voodoo priests and a bona fide Bloodscar hunting priest.
Farther back, a formation of gnoll hunters kept up precise suppressive fire with their hunting bone bows. Worst of all, the enemy had sent in assassins whose claws had been tempered with voodoo.
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