Chapter 6

Fifth Act: The Knight and the Maiden

"Lord Marsa, my soldiers have opened the door, but the inside has already been set ablaze. My skeletons hesitate before the filthy flames, and I need some time to make them adapt."

The lich bent his withered body deeply, the green flames in his eye sockets flickering with cunning light. However, he placed his withered arm over his chest to express absolute obedience—

Madara had a strict hierarchy that made anyone who dared to overstep feel fear from the depths of their soul, especially since the necromancers behind the Black Codex were naturally adept at manipulating and tormenting souls.

The necromancer apprentice tapped his pale, long fingers lightly against his deep black silk robe. He stood on the hill, overlooking the village below—bells tolled in the darkness, and human society was plunged into deep fear.

But this nightmare was just beginning. Not far away, rows of skeleton armies were merging into the darkness, and a reserve force was hidden in the nearby forest. He ordered them to fire arrows, and a wave was about to be unleashed.

The next wave would use flaming arrows.

A dark blue flame, a cold soul fire.

The raging fire in the darkness would make all creatures panic. He wanted to create some chaos to facilitate the skeleton soldiers' attack.

"How much time?" The future necromancer's voice was cold and sharp.

"Well," the lich lowered his head and estimated, "eight minutes, no, at most five minutes."

"I don't have that much time, but I can leave a squad for you. Eleven skeleton soldiers, is that enough, Kabuka?"

"More than enough, my lord."

The future necromancer smiled coldly, "Be careful not to let the rats escape through the back door."

"Please rest assured, my lord, I have already made arrangements at the back door as you instructed."

"Then, I hope to receive good news when I return victorious, Kabuka," the necromancer apprentice pointed forward and gave his subordinate a meaningful look, "Now I am going to accept the village's submission and savor the eternal death of humans in fear. However, by the grace of Masha, I hope my decision to launch an early attack does not cause any trouble for Sir Instalron—"

"As you wish, my lord." The lich bowed deeply.

...

The room was now filled with thick smoke, flames occasionally licking out from beneath the smoke, rising and blocking both the undead's invasion and the humans' vision.

The rising temperature was already scorching their backs, the scorching smoke making their eyes water, and their throats and noses stinging, but Sophie's heart was icy cold.

What should he do?

"What's wrong?"

"Give me the hammer." The young man finally reached back. He listened carefully, and besides the crackling of the flames, he faintly heard a unique sound echoing through the mountains—the bell.

The alarm bell of Buchi.

By the grace of Masha, he hoped the village's guard was smart enough, Sophie silently prayed. As for the militia, he didn't expect much; they were just young, enthusiastic men. He hoped they could survive the night.

These people were the seeds of Eruin's future.

He immediately felt that he might be thinking too far ahead. Perhaps he couldn't even get through the next challenge.

"Is there an enemy outside?" The young lady blinked and handed over the hammer.

"Hard to say, but it's better to be prepared." Sophie tried to think positively, but the better he thought, the worse the situation seemed. He had to be prepared. He was a seasoned warrior, and seasoned warriors relied on caution, not luck.

"Brando."

"Hmm?" He stopped his action of opening the door.

"You seem a bit different today."

Caught?

Sophie's heart tightened. But that didn't make sense; his personality was similar to Brando's, and he had inherited the latter's memories. How could he be recognized so quickly?

"How...?" He asked, somewhat nervously.

"Yes, I can't quite explain it, just a feeling." The future young lady thought for a moment and answered seriously, "Will you protect me, Brando?"

"Is there a problem with that?"

"No, thank you."

"If you're going to give me a good card, you don't have to, Miss Roman—"

"Eh?"

Sophie smiled slightly, and the tension in his heart dissipated. He took a deep breath, tensed his body, and gently pulled the door latch, then placed his hand on the cold doorknob.

It was about to open.

What fate awaited him outside? A new world? Or a sudden death? Oh, God, you wouldn't play me like this, would you?

But it's a serious taboo to presume the will of Masha.

"Miss Roman, I'll count to three, and then you follow me out."

"Okay."

"Three..."

"Um."

"Ouch."

"Sorry, I was too nervous, I should count up..."

"It's okay, Brando..." Roman couldn't help but cover her face; the collision with the young man's solid back made her cheeks flush and her heart race.

She wasn't usually such a shy person.

But Sophie had no time to indulge in the young lady's thoughts. The mix-up made him somewhat embarrassed. He remembered he was supposed to be very calm, but it was just a few small skeletons.

He gritted his teeth, opened the door, and before the smoke cleared, a bright longsword stabbed in.

Indeed, there was an ambush.

Sophie's heart had never been so calm, as if the thirty-one years of warrior experience in the game and this life's experiences had merged. The black rose emblem of Bro Mandor on the iron disk was so prominent in his eyes—Madara's sword drew a dazzling straight line.

Stiff, Sophie knew the opponent's weakness—

He also understood that he couldn't match the opponent's strength, so he immediately pressed Roman to the side to avoid the attack—just barely, the cold blade only cut through his clothes.

Then Sophie swung the hammer forward, and after the smoke cleared, a skeleton's chest cavity was exposed. With a crisp sound, three ribs snapped backward.

The skeleton couldn't withstand the force and stumbled backward, and the young man took the opportunity to rush out of the fire.

He immediately surveyed the battlefield—four skeleton soldiers. He couldn't help but draw a cold breath. If there were only one or two skeletons, he might have cursed, but now his heart was icy cold.

It seemed that God knew his character well.

He had only one thought: the opponent really respected him, treating him as a scout. After all, his performance was no less than that of a human scout. In such a small place, a scout was usually just a common hunter.

But, it seemed that standing out too much wasn't a good thing...

He felt Roman tightly holding his hand behind him, her subconscious action revealing her tension. He wanted to say something to comfort her but didn't know how to start.

Looking up, the dark forest was at the bottom of the hill, but how to cross the distance in between? He didn't have wings.

The mountain wind blew, and his wet forehead felt icy cold.

The four skeleton soldiers had already surrounded them.

What to do, wait to die? Sophie could only instinctively protect the young lady behind him, wishing he was still that level 130+ warrior. Dealing with these skeletons would have been a matter of one move...

But there was no "if" in this world.

Reality was truly hateful—

Wait, level? The young man suddenly realized he had overlooked something, a shiver ran through his heart. Yes, the Wind Empress Ring! He had clearly used the Wind Empress Ring to kill a lich and two skeletons, plus the one skeleton Brando killed before dying, six experience points!

In the game, a swordsman needed only five experience points to level up from level 1 to level 2, let alone a militiaman?

The only hope was that this place wasn't too different from the game—six experience points, all-knowing Masha, please—

Just one new level, and he would have a chance to escape.

Sophie knew he didn't have much time. The four skeletons were already in front of him, and he might have only one breath, four seconds, to live or die.

He projected a greenish data stream on his retina as fast as he could—

XP: 6 (Commoner 1: —, Militiaman 1, 0/3)

Thank God!

He knew what he needed. Although investing experience in the militiaman profession was a clear waste, he couldn't afford to be picky at this moment.

Even a waste was better than becoming a cold, lifeless corpse, right?

"Militiaman, 6 experience points, quickly, let me level up!" He chanted in his mind. The four skeletons had already raised their swords, and he felt the young lady behind him tightly hugging him.

"Brando, they're coming!"

But the data quickly changed.

XP: 0 (Commoner 1: —, Militiaman 2, 6/10)

A warm current flowed through Sophie's body, and he knew he would gain 0.1 level of strength and 0.1 level of constitution from the militiaman profession, but that was irrelevant—

A swordsman gained 0.2 levels of strength and constitution when leveling up from 1 to 2, not to mention additional improvements in dexterity and perception, making the militiaman seem like a waste.

But that didn't matter.

What mattered was that a character gained three unique talent skill choices when leveling up from 1 to 2.

Yes, this was the first time.

And the fairest.

And the one that would bring him a new life.

He anxiously waited, a second felt like an eternity, but finally, the emblem symbolizing personal talent flashed on his attribute panel—

"Talent skill, Unyielding." Sophie's eyes lit up like a burning flame. The four swords struck him, and he symbolically raised the stone hammer, avoiding vital areas like the head, heart, and abdomen.

Thud, thud, thud.

At least three swords pierced the young man's body at the same time, and he had only one feeling—this really hurt!

But Sophie knew that with the Unyielding ability, he wouldn't lose consciousness from blood loss within five minutes and wouldn't die from any physical attack within half an hour.

Now he had only one chance: to take Roman away and find a potion of life within the remaining time.

He didn't know if such a thing existed in this world, but he had to believe it did.

Because he had no choice.

"Brando!" Roman's voice was trembling with fear.

"Hold on to me, Roman."

"I..."

"Hold on to me!" The young man had no time to explain, and his anger flared. The blood-covered Brando looked like a true hero, making the girl stare in awe.

"I understand, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Brando."

Sophie took a deep breath, not sure how many times he had done this, but he needed to calm down first. Although breathing made his wounds feel like they were being torn, he knew that pain was just an illusion at this moment...

The three skeletons pulled out their swords and paused. In their eyes, this human was gradually losing the warmth of life, and a different power was spreading from his body.

The power of the soul.

The Unyielding talent tapped into the soul fire, similar to controlling the undead.

Thus, the undead thought that Sophie was one of them at this moment, but there was a misunderstanding. Sophie didn't think so. He gritted his teeth and swung the hammer, sending the four skeletons flying.

This wasn't because the young man's strength had suddenly increased, but purely because it was completely unexpected.

Sophie grabbed Roman's hand and took the opportunity to rush out.

"Miss Roman." He said while running, his voice strained.

"Y-Yes."

"Listen carefully..." Sophie panted, the Unyielding ability didn't allow him to overexert, and he felt the surroundings becoming blurry.

Only the wind rushing past his ears as they ran.

"Hmm?"

"If I pass out, take me to Buchi, avoid Madara... go to the town's temple, find... the potion of life, do you understand?"

"I... I understand, Brando... you won't die, right?"

"I don't know, cough, cough... it's up to the will of Masha..."

Sophie wasn't sure if the young lady really understood, but he only had the strength to say so much. The rest, as he said, was up to fate.

He couldn't help but look back. In the blur, the hill was ablaze. He sighed and closed his eyes wearily—was he really that introverted gamer?

Perhaps his past life was truly far away at this moment.

It was hard to believe that he could be so brave and decisive one day. Even if he died, he might feel at peace.

"Because I'm no longer a waste..."

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