Chapter Ninety-One: Settling Affairs

At a time when this continent is swept by storms and turmoil, with the iron heels of imperialism trampling upon it, and all its peoples teetering on the brink of survival, any young person with a sense of righteousness should unite all possible forces, raise high the banner of national liberation, seek common ground while reserving differences, and stand united against outside threats, dedicating their lives to the liberation of all the peoples of the Falwei Continent. Any internal strife among the continent’s forces only serves to bring joy to enemies and pain to kin—a reactionary act.

Therefore, I firmly oppose waging war at this moment against the Falwei Continental Alliance’s largest guild, the “Hammer of Retribution Knights.”

…Especially when no fewer than fifty of their members have surrounded us with hostile expressions…

Originally, this was merely a small misunderstanding sparked by two inexperienced adventurers around level twenty or thirty and a piece of poorly enchanted junk equipment. But it has escalated beyond control. The Hammer of Retribution guild members, summoned by the level twenty-nine novice wanderer and the troublemaker, surged into this small clearing with an enthusiasm beyond our expectations. From what I see, these fierce-looking fellows seem determined not to resolve this unnecessary conflict peacefully…

So many of them—it’s practically a small-scale war.

Dozens of combatants over level forty have encircled us at the center, their malicious gazes fixed sharply upon us. Their eyes cut like blades, piercing countless invisible holes through us, sending chills down our spines and turning our limbs icy cold.

Yet, they merely stand there. They have yet to strike, seemingly waiting for something.

Damn it, at this critical moment when lives hang in the balance, everyone in our guild has either logged off or entered dungeons. There’s not a single helper to be found. The only one I can reach, the low-level bard Nocturne, is still exploring the southeastern part of the continent, currently sailing eastward by ship. By the time he docks and swims dog-paddle back along Comet Sea, I’d probably be nothing but dust and bones.

Faced with overwhelming odds, we dare not attack first, yet it’s impossible to casually slip out of this encirclement. So the six of us stand back to back, hearts pounding, staring warily at the crowd surrounding us.

“Damn it, I should’ve just killed that guy outright when I had the chance, vented my anger, and left. Now it looks like we’re doomed,” Fuxiao lamented, eyeing the mass of foes regretfully.

“Bah. Then why did you keep up that act like a pro, waiting for his reinforcements?” Longbow Shiri shot him a disdainful eye-roll. “If you’d listened to me, that newbie would have been dead seventeen or eighteen times over by now.”

“How was I to know a level-twenty-something newbie could summon so many goons? Oh man, some of them are even over level fifty. These bored folks should just focus on leveling up instead of stirring trouble. Is PKing fun? There’s no XP reward…” Fuxiao swallowed hard—perhaps bitterly—upon seeing a resplendent level fifty-two mage adorned in dazzling gear, momentarily forgetting he himself was one of those “bored folks” causing mischief instead of leveling up properly.

“So… what do we do now?” The novice monk, “I’m Your Father,” whose legs suddenly buckled, voice trembling with cold fear, looked around helplessly.

“I have an idea…” Longbow Shiri’s eyes reddened with excitement as he rubbed his hands together. Under our expectant gazes, he continued: “We fight them to the death!”

Hey, enemies surrounding us, before you move, could you at least give us some time to take down that stubborn dwarf first?

“If I told them I’m just here to pass through, don’t know you guys at all, do you think they’d spare me?” String Song, the elegant archer, nocked an arrow cautiously, muttering hopelessly.

“We’ve been waiting forever. Why aren’t they killing us yet? I need to get my nails done after this,” the ethereal elven maiden, Yan Zhen, said impatiently, seeming utterly indifferent to life and death.

“Come on, miss, no need to rush off to die so quickly…” Fuxiao said helplessly at Yan Zhen’s impatience.

In short, at this critical moment of life and death, my friends remained carefree and untroubled, showing no sign of despair or urgency befitting those about to face death.

As a sky-walker who can slip free from Death’s grasp at any moment, they have that right.

But I do not.

So, at this moment, I had no choice but to speak a few words with a heavy heart:

“Friends, I’m glad to have known you in this lifetime. Being with you has been the happiest time of my life. I truly hope there will be another chance for us to adventure together, but…” I shook my head sadly, then forced myself to rally, sword in hand, and declared loudly:

“However, if I can fight beside you at the last moment of my life, then even death is nothing to fear. If I have any regrets in this life…”

I hesitated, glanced at Longbow Shiri, but ultimately could not overcome my fear of death.

With faint hope, I said the most important words:

“If I have any regrets, it’s that, Longbow, you didn’t revive me in time…”

That was perhaps the most heroic and tragic moment in my short life, but my friends’ reaction was:

“Ha ha ha… Jeff, didn’t expect you to have such a cold wit for jokes…”

“Yeah, yeah, sounded like you were giving your last rites, so solemn…”

“Very touching, but you forgot to mention the inheritance distribution—make sure I get my share in the will…”

“The respawn point is too far, I still prefer to resurrect in the warm embrace of the Grim Reaper…” they teased, and I smiled awkwardly.

They could never understand the terror and despair I felt inside, and I did not blame them.

I didn’t want to explain much, especially at such a fatal moment. Unlike them, who face death as just another type of death, I had a choice:

I could choose to die heroically as their familiar friend, at their side, in their embrace; or die alone and indifferent, a singular anomaly in their strange eyes.

I chose the former.

“Alright, let’s make a bet…” I dropped the solemn martyr act, wearing a reckless, defiant grin. “The last one standing wins!”

“Then I’m sure to win?” Longbow Shiri swung his nunchaku playfully.

“Don’t let yourself be the first to die, Xiange!” Yan Zhen chimed with a tinkling laugh.

“Don’t underestimate me, the gray kid always dies first!” Xiange Yayi blushed deeply.

“Why? Then I guess I’m the gray kid for sure,” the low-level monk “I’m Your Father” lamented, knowing he was hopeless against this gang.

“Ten gold coins each. The last one alive takes all. Monk doesn’t count!” Fuxiao proposed.

“Deal!” everyone eagerly agreed.

Suddenly, the Hammer of Retribution’s encirclement stirred; the besiegers grew excited and drew their weapons.

Is it finally starting? This pointless slaughter?

I tightened my grip on my sword and shield; sweat made my fingers sensitive to every touch.

This is probably the last time I’ll hold my weapons.

Forgive me, friends, win or lose. Please forgive me for not keeping this bet.

…

“Boss, you’re finally here. We were getting impatient…” Just as I summoned my courage to face death with unyielding spirit, the wanderer known as Trouble Maker glanced back and shouted happily.

A paladin clad in gleaming golden “Justice Knight” armor, wielding the “Divine Punishment” warhammer in his right hand and the “Guardian of Justice” shield in his left—an array of dazzling, top-tier gear—stepped into the crowd.

“Boss, they’re just bullying us because of their numbers, trying to steal my stuff,” Trouble Maker hurried to the paladin’s side, pointing at us and crying wolf.

The paladin furrowed his brow, glanced at us from a distance, then paused, breaking into a warm, friendly smile as he waved.

“Hey, Jeff, ah, Longbow Shiri, you’re here too. What’s going on? How did it come to this with you guys?”

I had already resigned myself to die gloriously in this battle, bidding farewell with a brave back. But seeing this paladin, the tight string of courage inside me snapped suddenly; the instinct to survive stirred the weakness I had buried deep within. I exhaled heavily, as if releasing a great weight from my chest, feeling an overwhelming fatigue wash over me. Then I noticed my legs trembling uncontrollably, and my hands gripping the weapons twitched from tension.

When is a person most vulnerable?

Some say it’s when death is imminent but not yet arrived.

But that’s wrong. When one faces inevitable, unavoidable death head-on, all other thoughts fall away. There’s no time or mind left for weakness during the struggle.

The most vulnerable moment is precisely when you believe you are doomed, yet someone offers you a glimmer of hope. That hope teases and entices you, making you crave life more, and feel death’s terror even deeper.

Seeing this man in golden armor, I realized perhaps we need not die.

The newcomer was the leader of the Hammer of Retribution Knights, president of the continent’s top guild, and a paladin we had met several times before—“A Life Devoted to Dreams.”

He was warm and sincere; his friendliness was palpable. An outstanding adventurer, his level wasn’t the highest, but he ranked among the elite. His gear was enviable, but in conversation, there was no arrogance or aloofness—he felt like a brother from next door, always ready to befriend you.

For such a person to want

to let this massacre unfold upon us helpless innocents…

Though I had the courage to face death, if it could be avoided, wouldn’t it be better not to die?

I steadied my emotions, greeted him, and strode forward with Longbow Shiri.

“Long time no see. Your name now rings like thunder—the prestige of being president of the largest guild is impressive...” I began with flattery; even if he wanted to kill us, he might hesitate after such praise.

“Ah, modesty, modesty. Everyone’s just here for the fun, a bit of excitement, nothing serious…” A Life Devoted to Dreams smiled with pride tinged with shyness.

I was relieved—he bore us no hostility.

“By the way, that guy with the ridiculously long name, ‘Niu Million,’ is he in your guild? How’s he doing lately?” He glanced at our guild name, stifling a laugh, then casually asked.

“He hasn’t logged on much recently. Seems he’s flirting online with one of our druids, playing videos at home all day…” Longbow Shiri sneered.

“No wonder we never see him…” A Life Devoted to Dreams suddenly understood. “A few days ago, thankfully he rushed to tell me about the boxing gloves bug. I haven’t properly thanked him yet.”

Thinking of Fei Yin’s underhanded profiteering and treacherous schemes, Longbow Shiri and I were mortified. The continent’s top five guilds were all manipulated by our deceitful president Fei Yin, with the Hammer of Retribution, as the largest guild, bearing the brunt of the effort—though for this matter, it was better not to thank him openly.

“Uh… that bug was fixed afterward, wasn’t it?” Longbow Shiri looked awkward.

“You don’t know…” the paladin waved his hand. “We were raiding the Blackbone Dungeon, wiped out over a dozen times. Thankfully, he told us about the bug, and we killed the boss. I’m still trying to collect the full Justice Knight set. He really helped us a lot. We owe him a big gift.”

Generosity and integrity—looking at their leader, then at ours, I felt a helpless despair. Both guild leaders, yet worlds apart.

“But what’s going on here? Why are you guys trying to snatch my men’s gear? We’re acquaintances, but this is a bit much. He’s not even level thirty, and you’re bullying him like this,” A Life Devoted to Dreams said, his expression darkening with frustration.

“We’re not to blame for this…” Longbow Shiri hurriedly waved his hands, calling Fuxiao over to explain everything that had happened: Trouble Maker grabbing gear and killing, then provocatively insulting us.

“Is everything they said true?” A Life Devoted to Dreams asked Trouble Maker.

“I didn’t steal anything…” Trouble Maker defended himself. “He dropped his own stuff, I picked it up, and then he came to snatch it back. No way it’s that easy. Besides, he’s higher level. I beat him one-on-one; what’s his deal calling in so many experts to steal from me?”

The paladin frowned deeply, glancing at us suspiciously.

“Don’t make things up! I was just negotiating, not stealing!” Fuxiao protested.

“That guy even said he’d kill me three times and guard my corpse!” Trouble Maker accused, pointing at the bearded monk behind us.

We turned to glare at him in return: if not for this oblivious fool, we wouldn’t be in such trouble!

This was a messy dispute, with both sides having their reasons—impossible to decide right or wrong. A Life Devoted to Dreams looked overwhelmed and waved to stop us from arguing further.

“First, tell me what exactly you took that’s got them chasing you so fiercely,” he said curiously to his men.

“Here it is—take a look,” Trouble Maker casually pulled out the “Sturdy Tunic.”

At the sight of this shabby item, A Life Devoted to Dreams was speechless. “You’re really something—worth picking up such junk?”

His words made us blush with shame: junk not even worth a level twenty newbie’s time, yet here we were, nearly level fifty, still blocking the door demanding it back. It was indeed a bit… pathetic…

“Boss, that’s the armor he stole from me!” I’m Your Father’s eyes lit up greedily, shouting without shame.

“Armor?” A Life Devoted to Dreams paused, scrutinizing the “Sturdy Tunic” thoughtfully, then suddenly seemed to realize something. A sense of superiority washed over him as he looked at us with pity.

I felt my pride suffer a grievous, hemorrhaging blow—one that was truly critical.

…