My Players Are So Fierce

“Damn, I knew something would definitely go wrong! The danger intuition given to me by the Avalon boss is real! This city really has problems! Big problems!”

The green gargoyle “Civil Aviation” had already taken off in emergency, while Tobacco Mulberry nervously piloted the gargoyle around the plague remnants of Seicob City ruins towards Bank Street in a diving flight. Old Tune beside him kept complaining:

“We shouldn’t have let them go in earlier!”

“What’s the use of saying this now? Pull out your gun and load the shotgun shells! Do your anti-air work! There are carrion bird flocks ahead, don’t let them get close. Our current rescue speed is already very dangerous, if we crash into them we’ll stall and fall.

There are no parachutes here!

Damn!

Why hasn’t any player thought of making a parachute? At least consider the poor people who don’t want to become vampires but still want to fly!”

Tobacco Mulberry’s real-life job gave him a truly strong heart, and the more tense and urgent the moment, the more steady and calm he became.

While maintaining detection spell’s overlooking vision and spouting trash talk to reduce pressure, he was also maneuvering the gargoyle’s flight path and still shouting commands at the panicked Old Tune.

Under his multi-tasking, Old Tune also reacted.

He crouched on the gargoyle’s wide back, pulled out the hunting rifle from his back and aimed, bang bang bang three shots shattered the undead carrion birds disturbing from the flank, but these precise kills were completely a drop in the bucket for the current situation.

Who knows what Brother Stick and Meow King encountered in the bank’s underground vault, but the entire originally quiet Bank Street was now “bustling with activity.”

Large numbers of plague-infected skeleton warriors rushed out from the ruins to surround the bank area, and there were swiftly moving ghouls howling as they charged into the ruins. The sky was filled with cold winds and those already half-undeadified bird flocks were screeching and flying in from all directions, making Tobacco Mulberry’s aerial maneuvering extremely difficult.

It’s only because this guy is a career pilot who could adjust angles at high speed, if this was encountered by a novice operator they would probably “crash and burn” after diving straight into the undead bird flock.

Old Tune was already nearly at full force killing the approaching carrion birds, but by the time they arrived above Bank Street they were still bothered endlessly by the dense aerial birds.

“Close your eyes!”

Tobacco Mulberry shouted through gritted teeth, taking out the short staff given to him by his mentor Helu for self-defense from his chest, raising it high. Tune very obediently covered his eyes, and in the next instant as Tobacco Mulberry roared out rhythmic mysterious incantations to trigger the spirit art formation.

The concentrated solar spirit stone burst into dazzling light like an explosion above the gargoyle, like a 10x brighter flash grenade illuminating half the sky, also driving away those approaching half-undead carrion birds.

Several dozen incinerated and purified carrion birds trailing burnt smoke crashed towards the ground, giving the two people on the gargoyle a temporary moment of respite.

“This thing is awesome, do it again, quick!”

Tune shouted, and Tobacco Mulberry immediately retorted:

“What again, there’s no more! This thing is one-time use, that stingy Helu doesn’t have that many good items in hand. Quick, contact them to rush out! We leave immediately! With this number of undead below there’s no point thinking about fighting back, even throwing 10 times the current number of players here wouldn’t be able to fight out.”

“Meow King! Still alive? Make a sound, we’re already above the bank, come out quick!”

Old Tune grabbed the computation bead and shouted towards Meow King’s direction, but after waiting several seconds there was still no response. Just when he felt Meow King probably had already died, huge explosions suddenly rang out from the ruins below.

Over a dozen molotov cocktails exploded in flames setting a small collapsed area on fire, and several brothers who were still alive retreated out miserably through the burning flames.

They were surrounded by layers upon layers of undead, only able to fend off enemies with weapons and molotov cocktails in hand. Seeing this, Tobacco Mulberry immediately took an extremely dangerous ultra-low altitude flight, on the first pass over everyone’s heads managing to pull up the quick-handed Meow King and Little Hand onto the gargoyle’s back, then circled in the sky and swooped back again.

After going back and forth three times, they finally managed to rescue the remaining few people from the sea of undead.

However, because this gargoyle’s carrying capacity was ultimately limited, it resulted in the last three people rescued having to “hang” on the gargoyle’s claws being pulled up into the sky with difficulty.

Looking from afar it was like a grape vine, carrying a big bunch.

“Bang”

The dirt-covered Meow King swung his heavy fist, smashing away a skeleton warrior clinging to the gargoyle’s tail, watching that guy flailing its limbs in the air falling into the howling sea of undead below, performing the super classic “Seicob Iron Fist”. Only then did Meow King’s survival drive dissipate.

He sat down heavily on the gargoyle’s back panting, saying to Tobacco Mulberry who was struggling to gain altitude beside him:

“Thanks brother, recruiting you was the most correct decision I made this year.”

“Over 30 of you went in! Only this many left?”

Old Tune quickly counted heads, including the three people under the gargoyle’s claws, only seven ultimately survived, but the good news was that all five people from the Big Bird team were alive though exhausted when they came back.

“Don’t f**king mention it! That vault has a super powerful death guard, I reckon it’s at least a Silver rank undead, with current profession strength there’s absolutely no way to beat it.”

Brother Stick whose face was badly scratched and disfigured spat out a bloody spit into the air beside him, cursing:

“That bastard not only has high strength himself, but can also summon minions to fight, really fucking dishonorable, all the undead on the entire Bank Street were summoned by that bastard.

I knew it, those bastards in the development team obviously wouldn’t let us get those gold bars so easily, fucking hell, came to the wrong place, this is definitely a high-level map, probably even a hidden raid dungeon.

Really lost troops and generals this time.”

“Sigh, Brother Stick, think about it from another perspective.”

Among the 30 people from the Crimson Hammer and Sickle team, besides Brother Stick only that bald vampire Kind-Face Giant Shark Uncle survived. This guy relied on being able to fly, managing to climb up to high ground in the ruins before the sea of undead surged over, thus barely surviving by luck.

Now stroking his bald head that was completely mismatched with his vampire identity, he said to the gloomy Joy Stick:

“We’ve already found the gold, right? It’s not going to grow legs and run away, and with that super powerful undead guarding it underground, it’s equivalent to being put in a vault, just waiting for us to come back and take it when we’re stronger.

It’s just delayed gratification.”

“Hey, you little genius, you can even turn bad things into good things, so good at talking, come come come, please sit in Prime Minister Balarat’s position.”

Brother Stick glared at Giant Shark Uncle, who then sheepishly stopped talking.

But then Joy Stick sighed, staring very unhappily at the bank ruins now surrounded by undead behind them, gritting his teeth saying:

“But now we can only comfort ourselves like this, this operation didn’t fail, just succeeded 95% and consider it a reminder for us, better not touch these high-level secret treasures at low levels.

Absolutely a death trap!”

“Right, think positive, didn’t we still bring some out?”

Meow King took a drink of water, throwing down three spirit bags at his waist that clunked clearly showing they contained some gold bars.

“Take it.”

He waved to Brother Stick saying:

“Brother knows you’re under KPI pressure now, we’ll talk about profit sharing after dealing with this vault later, take these first to report to Little Rich Brother and prove his investment wasn’t wasted.”

“Thanks.”

Brother Stick didn’t decline either.

He really needed these gold bars to prove he had indeed found a great treasure, and being long-time friends with Meow King, there was no need to say much more at this time.

But what pained Brother Stick most was the brothers being wiped out in the underground vault today, all that equipment they had worked hard to get was basically wasted, and re-arming would cost another huge sum of money.

He felt very distressed about this while constantly reflecting that his recent smooth sailing had made him forget the hidden threats in Transia and lose proper vigilance, which for a commander was absolutely an inexcusable basic error.

However, soon Brother Stick’s eyes turned and he had a new idea.

He bumped Meow King’s shoulder, saying quietly:

“Though the city bank treasure hunt failed, I actually have another project, regarding the Blood Vulture Armory that Lord Murphy mentioned several times before.

It’s said to be a secret armory established by the Blood Vulture Clan during their peak specifically for war preparation, there’s one each in north and south Transia, no information about the southern one yet, but I already know the exact location of the northern one.

If you trust me, let’s go there for a trip!

I’ve already made an agreement with Lord Murphy before setting out, after finding the armory, 70% of the arms inside go to Crimson Citadel, 30% go to my team.

Now our Crimson team has suffered heavy losses, brothers urgently need re-arming, so I can only give you 10%.”

“Still going?”

Meow King was a bit scared now. He couldn’t help asking:

“Aren’t you afraid that’s also a high-level vault with powerful guards? You really want to lose the little assets I have left too right?”

“It won’t be! Trust me, this armory information is from a quest received from Lord Murphy, the development team surely wouldn’t be so heartless as to arrange unbeatable enemies in such a side quest process right?”

Joy Stick said in a deep voice:

“We finally came out once, wouldn’t it be shameful to go back without doing anything? Just come with me to take a look, if it really doesn’t work I’ll have to swallow this dumb loss.”

“Fine, I’ll go with you, 10% is 10%, just consider it helping a brother.”

Meow King nodded.

But this sly socialite then changed his tone, saying:

“But you also said there’s still a vault in the south waiting to be discovered, so when the time comes, I want half the earnings from the second armory!”

“Half? Why don’t you just rob me? I worked hard to grind reputation and find the quest, and you just open your mouth asking for half? And what do you need so many weapons and equipment for?”

Brother Stick asked back:

“You’re operating a small team, you can’t consume this many weapons at all.”

“Hehe, what do you think I’m doing?”

Meow King rolled his eyes, saying with a sneer:

“We’re all local foxes, what strange tales are you singing to me? My team can’t consume it but you can? Come on, everyone has the same idea! All hoarding goods waiting to sell at high prices when the Black Plague breaks out to make big profits!

This business is allowed for you Joy Stick but not for me Meow King?

There’s no such logic in this world!”

Seeing Meow King speak plainly, Joy Stick couldn’t argue anymore, could only admit defeat, while also realizing there really were many capable and extraordinary people in this game!

It seems he definitely wasn’t the only one who discovered the business opportunity of the coming Black Plague, and those secretly making preparations certainly weren’t just him and Meow King.

“Fine! Half it is, help me take down the northern armory first, we’ll go back to prepare, I’ll ask for leave from Valand, we’ll set out tonight!”

——

“Why is it so noisy outside?”

Meanwhile, in the inner city district of Seicob City, in the courtyard of the broken Seicomere family castle, Little Countess Sharon frowned and asked Knight Valand who was protecting her:

“Did something happen?”

The bear-like sturdy winged cavalry commander gave a loud whistle, and in the next instant a majestic osprey swooped down from high in the sky, flapping its wings to steadily land on his shoulder.

Knight Valand used the animal speech granted by forest blessing to converse with his osprey, then said to the little Countess:

“Those recruits were treasure hunting at Bank Street but triggered an undead horde, they suffered heavy casualties. Damn it! Their basic training wasn’t even completed yet!

Sunny was right, these guys have no organization or discipline, they can’t possibly become good soldiers!”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Little Countess Sharon who had learned about the player situation from Murphy waved her hand saying:

“Their training won’t be interrupted because of this, you’ll see them again in three days.”

“Hmm?”

Knight Valand didn’t understand the little Countess’s meaning, and Sharon didn’t explain further, but quickly traversed through the castle gardens that had already withered from the plague, stepping into the living quarters with collapsed domes.

She had planned to find her father’s remains here, but because of the message Murphy sent, Sharon realized she might have some “unexpected gains” here.

Sure enough, when going around the banquet hall into what used to be her father’s study, a familiar figure appeared before Sharon and Valand.

It was a tall man wearing winged cavalry heavy armor.

His body was very robust.

He was even a head taller than Knight Valand, like a true giant. But that once gray gleaming armor had now turned completely black, looking very ominous just from the appearance.

The study that was once filled with trophies had also changed dramatically.

In the complete mess sat an “iron throne” formed entirely from the twisted convergence of Pioneer Army soldiers’ armor and dried remains, among the gathering of hundreds of terrified faces, that man wrapped in darkness sat upon the throne, both hands resting on a huge armor-piercing hammer emanating cold chill.

Under that black full-face helmet the face couldn’t be seen, only a pair of eyes radiating ghostly blue fire.

“Father.”

Little Sharon said with a trembling voice, while Knight Valand instinctively wanted to kneel before this person, but was rebuked by the latter in a hoarse and withered voice:

“Do not kneel!”

The former Count of Seicob, the man who fought for this city and his people until the last moment said:

“I am no longer the person you knew. Bourne Sanders Seicomere is already dead! Dead on the battlefield fighting external enemies, dead from the vile plague, dead on the night his guarded city became hell.

Before your eyes is just a ghost struggling unwilling to fall, wandering wantonly in a world that doesn’t belong to it. And you two have already escaped from hell, you shouldn’t come back!

Turn around and leave.

I can pretend I never saw you.”

“But you’re right before my eyes! Father.”

Little Sharon stepped forward, saying:

“That night you didn’t even get to say goodbye to me, we are children of the forest, our bonds won’t be severed by mere death.

Since you are here, then mother perhaps

Is she also here?”

“Of course, my child.”

A voice drifting like ghost whispers rang out in the shadows of this study, in the gathering of green fluorescence, an eerie spirit lady floated in mid-air.

She was behind the Count of Seicob.

This ghost banshee and nether knight’s pairing echoed perfectly with the surrounding broken ruins covered in traces of war, and worth mentioning is that this Countess Seicomere’s race was somewhat strange.

She was a rare mixed-blood halfling or called “half” halfling

A mix of human and halfling blood, possessing human height and build along with halfling’s delicateness and agility, though now a spirit form, but formed a stark contrast with the old Count sitting there over 2 meters tall, interpreting the “Beauty and the Beast” pairing miraculously true.

The pale light shining through the half-collapsed wall had no warmth here, light here couldn’t bring peace to hearts, only endless sorrow.

That pale face and glowing eyes stared at little Sharon, though there was also a trace of remaining tenderness within, but more was malice towards all life from the nether realm’s reinforcement.

From this ghost lady’s face one could see that the delicate parts of little Sharon’s looks were completely inherited from her.

“How I want to embrace you, little Sandra, but I can no longer do so. There are venomous voices in my soul enticing me to taste your flesh and keep you by my side forever.

This is the curse of violating life and death to remain in the mortal world, it is consuming me and your father day by day.”

Countess Seicomere advised in the “tremolo” unique to spirits:

“Those people haven’t discovered your invasion yet, therefore I beg you, Sandra, my daughter, leave before we are manipulated to launch an attack against you!

No!

Perhaps you should leave Transia forever!

This land where we’ve lived for generations is beyond saving, it is destined to be completely leveled in the Fifth Black Plague.

All sadness and joy, all perseverance and ideals will become meaningless.

Destruction will ultimately arrive.

In the sunset dusk, warm flames will embrace everything letting us sleep eternally in the night, until the advent of the next pure era.

Child, there’s no need to feel sad about this.

This is not your fault, nor is it our fault, it is just an error that needs to be corrected, nothing more.”