"It's over... it's all over..."
Knight Viel's voice, quivering through chattering teeth, sounded especially grating in the cold wind.
In the very center of the group, the four players huddled on horseback felt their scalps prickle as well.
What the fuck was this?!
As members of the Fourth Catastrophe, they weren't afraid of dying in a game. Even if those hundred Cultists ground them into pulp, they would only lose ten Ash Coins and resurrect at the fountain in Fog Town.
But the problem was that if NPCs like Kairils died, they would be dead for real.
Never mind that they actually thought quite highly of Kairils.
Even for the sake of their plan, these knights from Winterhold couldn't all die here!
Otherwise, who would carry the news to Winterhold?
Who would persuade Winterhold's higher-ups?
Everything they had arranged today would become utterly meaningless!
While the four players frantically searched for a solution,
Kairils, who had remained silent all this time, slowly raised his Long Halberd amid this suffocating, hopeless situation.
Rather than looking at the hundred-odd Cultists eyeing them hungrily ahead, he turned and quietly surveyed his despairing companions behind him.
"Knights."
Kairils's voice no longer held its usual coldness. Instead, it carried a barely perceptible hint of acceptance.
"I'm not confident I'll survive this battle either."
"This may be our last chance to fight side by side."
Those words, which Kairils would never normally have said, struck every knight present like a hammer to the heart.
Knight Viel abruptly raised his head, staring in disbelief at this brilliant captain who was usually so aloof.
Kairils took a deep breath.
There on horseback, he solemnly bowed his proud head.
"As your captain,"
"I offer you all my deepest apologies for changing our route without consulting you and leading you