A Night Doctor led two-thirds of the troops charging off in another direction, turning to call urgently to Lynn:
"Mr. Good Doctor! There are more of us, so they'll definitely send most of their forces after us. Hurry and get out of here! Once we've broken through, we'll regroup at Camp One!"
"Understood!"
At the fork in the road.
The two groups split left and right, racing across the Wasteland.
Barely a few seconds later, the vast horde of Flesh Humanoids and Plague Doctors reached the fork behind them.
Then, almost without hesitation, every enemy swerved like a raging torrent and poured down the route Lynn had taken, without so much as glancing in the other direction.
A few seconds after that, White Night limped after them, hunched over and using his twin blades as crutches.
Lynn and the others ran for their lives.
The dozens of Night Doctors beside him looked back, growing frantic.
"Mr. Good Doctor! Something's wrong! Something's fucking wrong! Why does it look like we haven't lost a single pursuer? It's like every last one of them is fucking chasing us!"
Lynn roared, sweeping his hand forward:
"Split up again!"
Soon.
At the second fork.
The dozens of Night Doctors with Lynn split in half again, one group speeding north and the other south.
When the vast army behind them reached the fork, they once again turned without looking back and, unsurprisingly, kept pouring down Lynn's route.
A few seconds later, White Night limped doggedly after them, clutching his crotch in furious frustration.
The sounds of pursuit and enraged roars behind them drew ever closer.
The dozen or so Night Doctors still beside Lynn were beside themselves.
"Mr. Good Doctor! They've gone mad! Those bastards have all fucking lost it! They're ignoring all those other people