A small team quickly began to pursue the Dragonborn and her burden, firing sharp arrows as they went. In a chase, the group soon disappeared into the dense forest.
Fifteen minutes later, the Holy Crusaders's "special military operation" was successfully completed. In a short period of time, they killed a total of seventeen resisting rebels and captured six unconscious (offline) prisoners in a house.
In addition, a large number of unidentified miscellaneous items (tea sets, fancy trinkets) were seized, and even frozen fish filled half a warehouse.
Except for one exceptionally fast rebel who escaped the encirclement, all the remaining rebels were already here.
Looking at the rows of rebel corpses, prisoners, and spoils laid out before him, Gorn, who was in charge of the operation, smiled slightly.
Looking at the prisoners who were unconscious but still showed vital signs, Gorn waved his hand:
"Kill him, and take his head back."
"Yes."
The Holy Crusaders of the Second Order of Knights quickly stepped forward to vent their anger, and once again brought new food to the fish in the river. Gorn asked the surrounding squad leaders:
"Except for the one that ran away, are you sure all the houses have been cleaned?"
"Confirmed, nothing was missed."
"Very good, let's take the spoils and head back to the city!"
The latter half of the night in the World of Disorder coincided with the afternoon in the real world. After the fishing enthusiasts and health lovers were wiped out by the Holy Crusaders, a large number of posts quickly appeared on the official website, and the popularity continued to rise, as if the players who were counting down the seconds had begun to chatter amongst themselves:
[ The Fir City Supply Depot was destroyed by the Holy Crusaders, resulting in significant losses of supplies and casualties] -- This is a relatively serious player.
[That damn NPC hacked me to pieces!] -- This is a rather emotional player.
[The first time I witnessed an NPC going berserk, chasing after people and hacking at them as if they had a grudge...] -- This is a relatively calm casual player.
As a large group of players who were counting down to respawn frantically posted on the forum, the popularity of the related posts began to rise continuously, and countless players who were slacking off at school or work during the day joined the discussion.
The players associated with this supply station, including [ Howling Pothos ], [ Do Some Farm Work ], and [ Good Times Don't Last ], were tagged by the players like crazy. After all, when the camp was attacked, these people were either offline or in Fir City and couldn't receive the news, leaving the players somewhat leaderless for a while.
And why was the location of the supply depot suddenly leaked out of the blue?
While dozing off in class, [ Good Times Don't Last ] took the opportunity of relieving himself to pull out his phone to glance at it, only to find that there were hundreds of messages tagging him.
What happened?
He clicked on an @ link with some confusion and quickly figured out what had happened.
Not a buddy.
He mentally screamed in despair—
I was only offline for a few hours, how come my entire base in the game was wiped out?
Does that mean I'm already dead? Shouldn't there be a countdown timer for logging back in?
Standing at the toilet door, [ Good Times Don't Last ] pondered for a long time, and ultimately, like [ Vanilla Ice Cream Scoop ] from another time, made a decision that went against the will of their ancestors.
Sorry, it's an elective course.
Despite feeling a little guilty, I didn't slow down at all, and soon I was back in the Good Times Don't Last.
After putting on the helmet and verifying his identity, he was astonished to find that his body was still alive!
The expected "[Body Reconstruction in Progress]" option did not appear, but the system's prompt box still appeared in front of him:
[Severe damage to the torso]
This is... a serious injury?
[ The Good Times Don't Last n't last long] Without thinking too much, he chose to log in, and after a moment of disorientation, a constantly shaking screen appeared in his field of vision.
I felt as if I were in a carriage, being jostled about on undulating ground. The position was rather strange; I seemed to be upside down, with something pressing against my chest, causing me to unconsciously make a series of "uh-uh" sounds.
"Cough cough cough."
Feeling unwell, [ the Good Times Don't Last ], she coughed, which quickly caught the attention of the Dragonborn store clerk.
The Dragonborn quickly put his boss down and said with some surprise:
"Boss, you're finally awake."
[ The Good Times Don't Last ] He managed to stand on the ground and asked:
"What... what's going on? How...?"
[ The Good Times Don't Last ] Just as I was about to ask something else, I suddenly felt my lips become a little wet.
He reached up and touched his nose, only to find that blood was gushing out of it, and even the bridge of his nose had collapsed.
Is this what they call a serious injury?
It's nothing special. Although it would be considered a serious injury in the real world, it's only a minor injury in the World of Disorder.
Looking at the relatively flat ground beneath his feet, he decided to sit down and rest for a while before continuing.
So he used his right hand to support himself on the Dragonborn beside him, and his left hand to brace himself on the ground, intending to sit down for leverage. But a sudden feeling of weakness washed over him, and the bone in his left forearm pierced straight through his skin and protruded.
The stark white bone fragments were exposed before him, and he froze on the spot for a moment, his Good Times Don't Last short-lived.
So there was this part too? It seems the injury was quite serious, but my leg seems fine...
Thinking this, he inadvertently leaned backward, and as he landed on his back, three wooden arrows emerged from his abdomen and right chest, appearing before him with bits of flesh hanging from them...
What a serious injury!
"Puff!"
[ The Good Times Don't Last ] His body suddenly curled up, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.
He looked at the somewhat flustered Dragonborn and asked:
What's going on here?
The Dragonborn awkwardly crossed his arms and said:
"Boss, this... this has nothing to do with me, it was all done by those enemies."
[ The Good Times Don't Last ] Eyes slightly narrowed:
My nose...
"It was shot by an enemy soldier."
What did you use to make it like this?
"Brain."
What about my hand?
"It was also attacked by the enemy, another enemy."
What did you use?
"Neck."
[ The Good Times Don't Last ] His lips twitched:
"And what about these arrows behind me...?"
"It was fired when the enemy was chasing us."
[ The Good Times Don't Last ] He was immediately at a loss for words, both amused and exasperated, and looked at the somewhat embarrassed Dragonborn:
Turn around, and I'll look behind you.
The Dragonborn obediently spun around in place, and [ Good Times Don't Last ] carefully examined her, finding that apart from some minor damage to her shop assistant uniform, she had no wounds whatsoever.
Having figured it out, he pointed and said half-jokingly:
"You're using me as a shield, aren't you?"
The Dragonborn also became a little anxious upon hearing this:
"I have to carry you on my back, boss..."
[ The Good Times Don't Last ] Thinking about it, that made sense; if I carried him, the scene would only become more awkward.