Giving up the competition—and doing so when the Deathmatch had reached its final stage, with only three and a half days left—didn't sound like something Happy Stick would do.
When Master Qin heard about it, he immediately thought it was a joke. But soon, the old commander realized there was more to it.
Happy Stick hadn't gone crazy. He'd made this decision with a clear head.
"Was this your idea, or your team's?"
Master Qin asked.
Brother Stick answered frankly:
"How could I possibly make a decision like this on my own? Of course we discussed it with all the ground-level commanders first. You can check the forums—the First Regiment is arguing like crazy right now.
"Actually, Meow Brother was the first to suggest it. Then Madam Shui explained the situation and managed to convince most of the commanders.
"The situation has already reached this point. The First Regiment's total guard time of five and a half days has basically put them out of the running for the championship. We held the line for five days, and you've reached five days too. That leaves four and a half days.
"If you hold out for another two and a half days, you'll clinch the victory."
"Two and a half days? You really think a lot of me."
Master Qin sighed.
"The gnolls on the other side have clearly switched from scattered stragglers and small clans to the vanguard of a major clan. From what I can see, they could flatten us with a single charge. And those bastards are preparing to summon a meteor shower.
"They have no intention of keeping up this drawn-out fight.
"In this situation, forget two days. If my battle group and I survive the next five hours, it'll be thanks to Lord Murphy's blessing."
"That's exactly