Hundreds of hazy sword lights converged into a brilliant river of stars, pierced an NPC's body, and shot into the sky.
The class mentor who taught swordsmanship stared wide-eyed at the wound that had cleaved him in two below the stomach. He had never imagined that one day, a master would be killed by his own students.
Yes, some of these unfamiliar adventurers had once been his students. They had hidden in the crowd to launch their attacks.
With that, the last quest-giving NPC in the Third Main City stained the walls with blood. No NPC capable of issuing quests remained. The surviving NPCs were all passersby, there solely to serve as background scenery.
The passerby NPCs had no spirituality, and their expressions were wooden. Only when players asked them questions would they answer with whatever they knew from their background settings.
But the vast majority of passerby NPCs could not answer questions properly, because the game designers had never given them any background-in other words, they had no history.
People without history were like people without past life experiences: a complete blank.
Now that the players had conquered the city, they took their time resting and recovering.
Some diligent players continued practicing their moves out in the wilderness, repeating the same sword move over and over.
For example, one Cthulhu Follower Ke Meng was watching had not gone off to grind monsters. Instead, he stood before a wooden post, gripping a long blade with both hands and hacking down hard from overhead to the ground, strike after strike, again and again.
What is he doing? A question mark popped up in Ke Meng's mind.
Ke Meng had clearly seen the earlier assault on the Third Main City. It had been an overwhelming advantage in numbers, combined with a dense