Chapter 3

The warmth that enveloped me made me stretch lazily, and I tightened my grip on the blanket, wrapping myself tightly, unwilling to wake from this heaven-like warmth and comfort. However, the noisy voices that reached my ears forced me to open my sleepy eyes. The room was pitch black, with a faint, dim light shining through a crack. Is this heaven? Or have I returned home? Was everything that just happened just a dream, a very realistic dream? A wave of joy surged in my heart, and I sat up abruptly, only to find a thick layer covering me. The warmth I felt was mostly due to it.

I touched it with my hand; from the feel of it, it seemed to be a blanket made from animal fur. Whether it was real fur or artificial, I wasn't quite sure. In the dim light, I looked around.

First, the place where I was lying was also covered with a layer of fur. It was precisely because of these two layers of soft, comfortable fur that I slept so soundly.

Second, the place where I was was very narrow. Judging by its shape, it seemed to be a tent.

As I carefully observed the surroundings, the crack where the light was coming from suddenly widened, and a figure squeezed through, almost blocking the entire opening. Because it was backlit, I couldn't see clearly what the figure looked like, but from its massive size, it was at least much taller than me, probably over 2.5 meters tall.

Heaven, a person like this not playing in the NBA is a waste.

"The young man has finally woken up, hahaha, that's great."

A loud, rough, and hearty voice suddenly rang in my ears, making them buzz.

However, hearing his voice, I temporarily put my heart at ease. At least he could speak, and I could understand him. From the sound of it, he didn't seem like a bad person.

"Doug, I told you not to shout so loudly. Look, the young man inside must have been scared to death," a steady yet slightly mocking voice came from behind the giant.

Doug, that must be the giant's name.

"Bullshit, Ral, when has my voice ever scared anyone?" Doug roared, like thunder in my ears. I clutched my ears in pain, hoping they would still be usable in the future.

In the darkness, four people were gathered around a small fire, the wet wood in the fire making a "crackling" sound. The long, drawn-out sounds extended far into the distance before fading.

On my left was the bald giant and baritone Doug, with his head and beard completely shaved, not a single hair left. His face was tattooed, and his age was hard to guess, probably between 25 and 40. On my right was the middle-aged man Ral, with a short beard and hair, wearing a neat and clean leather armor that looked well-maintained even in this desolate grassland. If he didn't speak, he would exude a steady and solid aura, but once he opened his mouth, you would find he was a rather humorous uncle.

Opposite me was another giant named Gorf, only slightly shorter than Doug, with a similarly bald and shiny head. If not for the different tattoos on his face, you might think they were made from the same mold.

My ears were still buzzing, but I could hear sounds. I tugged at my ears, trying to make them feel better.

Ignoring Ral's teasing gaze, which seemed to say, "Look, this is the voice you said never scared anyone," Doug looked at me apologetically. He knew his voice was powerful, but he didn't expect my tolerance to be so weak.

I smiled nonchalantly, knowing they had saved my life, I couldn't possibly hold a grudge over such a small matter.

The most pressing issue was to quickly understand where I was. Although I suspected I might have traveled through time, seeing their completely different styles from my world made it hard to accept this reality. I wasn't as strong as I imagined, and this unfamiliar world, unfamiliar faces, and unfamiliar environment always gave me a sense of isolation.

"I'm Doug, the future barbarian hero," Doug finally spoke after a moment of silence, thumping his chest muscles and lowering his voice to avoid stimulating my ears.

"Paladin Ral, nice to meet you," the uncle who had mocked Doug said solemnly, his voice filled with pride.

"I'm Gorf, also a brave barbarian warrior," Gorf said in a deep, resonant voice.

"My name is Wu Fan."

Paladin? Barbarian? Suppressing the shock and surprise in my heart, I tried to remain calm.

Wu Fan? The other three exchanged glances, as if understanding something, and smiled in unison.

The straightforward Doug patted my shoulder, using what he thought was a light touch but nearly knocked me to the ground.

"Little one, from your appearance, you must be a druid, newly promoted, right? You've got quite a bit of courage to venture into the depths of the wasteland alone."

"Haha, I thought it would be fine, but I ended up getting lost without realizing it."

Druid? I suppressed my unease and panic, scratching my head to avoid answering his question directly, pretending to be embarrassed.

"Haha, indeed, you're fearless like a newborn calf, just like I was in my youth," Doug continued, patting my shoulder with his fan-like hand.

"Ha... ha..." I steadied myself, almost falling into the fire, and managed a forced smile.

"You're too weak, kid. You need to eat more meat," seeing my body shaking like a leaf in a storm under his massive hand, Doug pulled out a large piece of jerky and handed it to me, then took a piece for himself and chewed it loudly.

I took the jerky, which weighed at least 4 or 5 pounds, showing Doug's extraordinary appetite.

"Doug, that's not fair. You're a level 11 barbarian, and even a level 30 druid might not be as strong as you. The kid is probably only level 5, and you're comparing strength with him, tsk tsk..." Ral, the kind uncle opposite Doug, couldn't stand it anymore, looking at Doug with disdain. He continued, "If you're so capable, why don't you compare mental strength with him?"

Ral's teasing gaze seemed to hit a nerve, and Doug hung his head, eating his meat in silence, clearly very depressed.

"Wu Fan, ignore Doug, the stupid bull. Everyone has their strengths. Druids, though balanced, are still a powerful class," Ral encouraged me with a gentle voice, warming my heart.

"By the way, Uncle Ral, where are you headed now?" Seeing the right moment, I quickly put down the small piece of jerky I had been nibbling on, my hunger overshadowed by a mass of questions.

"Oh, don't you know? We're on our way back to Rogue Encampment!" Ral looked at me with a puzzled expression, making my heart skip a beat. Then he seemed to remember something and said, "Oh, I forgot you were lost. It's understandable that you couldn't tell the way."

Ral's reaction put me on guard. It seemed that words couldn't be spoken carelessly. If I hadn't told him I was lost, he might have suspected me.

Wait, what did he say, Rogue Encampment?? My heart was in turmoil, and even the piece of jerky in my hand slipped and fell to the ground.

Paladin, barbarian, druid, Rogue Encampment, my God, I finally realized where I had traveled to. This was clearly the world of Diablo.

"Wu Fan, what's wrong?" Ral, seeing my wide-eyed, stunned expression, patted my shoulder and asked.

"Oh, oh... nothing." Ral's not-so-light touch startled me. In a panic, to hide my surprise, I quickly picked up the piece of jerky from the ground, ignoring the dirt, and started chewing it, burying my shocked and distorted face in my chest.

Seeing me pick up the piece of jerky from the ground and eat it, which was originally a move to hide my surprise, Ral nodded in approval: not wasting a bit of food, though his actions were rash, running into the depths of the Blood Moor alone, but he seemed to have the potential to become a brave warrior.

"Cough, cough..." I choked on the dry jerky, which made me cough.

Suddenly, a water flask was extended to me. I didn't care who it was from and grabbed it, drinking a large gulp to soothe my throat. Looking up, I saw Doug and Ral looking at me with amusement, and the one who had handed me the water was the quiet Gorf.

"Gorf may not look like a barbarian, always cold and distant, but his fiery heart is undoubtedly that of a barbarian," Ral explained with a smile. Gorf also smiled awkwardly, a grin that looked worse than a frown, clearly not good at expressing himself.

Soon, Ral and the others started to divide the night watch, and I was pushed into the tent on the pretext of being weak.

Over the next few days, I got to know them better.

Doug, a level 11 barbarian, was outgoing and had the typical hot-headed and rash nature of a barbarian.

Gorf, also a level 11 barbarian, seemed to be related to Doug. He was quiet and had a calmness that was different from the typical barbarian.

Ral, a level 12 paladin, was steady and wise, but his mouth was far from the dignified manner of a paladin. He was merciless in mocking Doug and was the leader of this small group.

They had ventured deep into the Blood Moor, according to Ral, to try their luck and see if they could find some fire resistance gear. They had taken on the task of killing the Countess, and without fire resistance armor, they couldn't handle her fiery attacks.

Unfortunately, from the Black Marsh to the Blood Moor, they hadn't found any suitable gear. They were now preparing to return to Rogue Encampment to rest and regroup, as they had been out for over three months.