The snake-men and the Makon people inside Casarina Town were fighting fiercely, making quite a spectacle.
But Not Playing If I'm Not Having Fun and the other players had no idea just how fierce or spectacular it was. They could only judge and guess from the gunfire and cannon blasts carried over by the wind.
The black powder consumed that night almost rivaled the fireworks set off in a twenty-first-century Chinese town on the night of New Year's celebrations.
During that time, some players in the camp couldn't resist wanting to head toward town to watch, but whenever they tried to leave, the sound of snake-men slithering outside made them abandon the idea.
The snake-men were still outside the camp. Although they weren't attacking, they hadn't left either.
The players found this strange, but however hard they thought, they couldn't come up with a reason why the snake-men would fear the two hundred people here.
As daybreak approached, when the gunfire from Casarina Town grew sparser again, Not Playing If I'm Not Having Fun finally couldn't hold back.
"A few of you, come take a walk over toward Casarina. Let's see whether the snake-men have left..."
Not Playing If I'm Not Having Fun stopped midway through his own words. He turned his head and listened for a moment, then abruptly spun around to look into the distance.
At the end of the road, a horse's iron shoes pounded the muddy surface with heavy, rapid clops, breaking the oppressive silence of dawn.
The rider crouched low over its back, looking bedraggled. His Makon Alliance uniform was torn to shreds, covered in mud and dark red bloodstains.
He had clearly endured one danger after another, and his horse was panting hard, white foam spraying from its mouth and nostrils.
The players still