Chapter 72

Ramashtu is known as the God of Nightmares, overseeing the domains of destruction, monsters, and nightmares. He is a demonic deity with a wolf-like face, wings on his back, and two curved swords. His followers are often described as having a near-neurotic madness, believing that reality is merely a constraint, and that the fear of darkness hidden in nightmares is the most boundless power.

In the distant past, Ramashtu was widely worshipped in this land, and his deceitful, mad, and exhilarating power attracted countless beings. This power indeed allowed people to survive in the face of life-threatening situations, but once they were tainted by it, they easily became addicted.

However, with the great disaster of the earth, the Dark Age isolated the northern region, and the isolated followers of Ramashtu devoured each other, their madness bringing about their own destruction. A sacred mask belonging to a high priest of Ramashtu was lost, its origin and purpose misunderstood, and it later became a tool of rule for the lord of Viper Cliff Castle.

The mask once again caused madness, leading to the destruction of Viper Cliff Castle. Among the ruins, only the nightmare creatures known as Anger Servants wandered, emitting mournful cries day and night. Whether it was druids, gnomes, or forest rangers, they had always wanted to find this mask and destroy it, but for over a century, they had achieved nothing. They could only clear the Anger Servants annually to prevent their numbers from accumulating.

But a new generation of Ramashtu's priests grew up, and following their god's instructions, they found the mask. The Anger Servants became his army, and the first command of the God of Nightmares was to occupy Nibo Town, eliminate the druids, and twist everything along the shores of Ash Lake.

An army composed of bear goblins, dogheads, and trolls came to Nibo Town, engaging in fierce battles with the local guards. Nibo Town was not an easy target; the convenient guild attracted a large number of adventurers who made survival, exploration, and monster hunting their profession, with rich experience and astonishing combat power. Relying on a low stone wall, these adventurers and the forces of the God of Nightmares fought to a standstill, from sunrise to near sunset.

"Sok! Sok, where did you go again?!" Green carried a wooden box, searching along the city wall for the dwarf. Fortunately, through the battle, everyone knew who the dwarf Sok was, and they pointed the way for him.

"Good heavens, how did you go bald! I told you to be careful, but you still burned your hair off?"

The dwarf's face was pitch black, his head hair like a grassland scorched by a wildfire, the ground emitting smoke, with only a few lucky blades of grass still standing defiantly. The dwarf picked up an oilcloth and wiped his eyes hard, revealing two pale circles on his pitch-black face.

"At least my beard wasn't burned. I can't worry about my hair anymore." Sok put his war hammer aside and pried open the wooden box with his fingers. "Is this the last reserve? Is that all the guild has left?"

Green spread his hands, a helpless expression on his face: "Not only do we need it, but several alchemists are also working hard to make potions. You know, if we don't destroy the catapults outside the city, Nibo Town will inevitably fall."

Then, Green lowered his voice: "I also noticed that they made a batch of underwater breathing potions. I wouldn't mistake that blue drink with floating bubbles. I took two bottles when they weren't paying attention. Keep them for yourself; if things go wrong, you can escape through Ash Lake."

"I'd rather die than go underwater!"

"If you won't go underwater, I won't either. So, when the time comes, you'll have to kill me." Green knew the dwarf was very brave and would rather die than retreat, so he could only threaten with his own life. Sok was furious, but he would eventually compromise.

"What a pity Mike isn't here. The explosives he made were the most stable and effective. If he were here, my hair would have been saved." Sok tugged at his head regretfully, showing that he wasn't as indifferent as he claimed.

"Why don't you wish for something good? What could Mike do here? In terms of fighting, he can't match us two?" Green snorted: "If he were here, I'd have one more person to take care of."

"Ha! You take care of me? I've already killed no less than twenty enemies, including three trolls. What about you?"

"About the same." Green licked his lips, pulling out a wineskin from somewhere and sharing it with the dwarf. "See, this is taking care of you, hehe. You know, my real talent is trickery and deceit. On the battlefield, I can do quite well. But sometimes I think it would be nice if Mike were here. His mind is very quick, and he might come up with a way to escape."

"Just win the fight, why think so much!"

"No, listen to me..." Green leaned in close to the dwarf, but he was pushed away with a single hand.

"I've made up my mind, don't talk anymore, it affects my mood." Sok pointed to the empty wineskin and said: "If you have time, you might as well go find more of this stuff."

"Ah..." Green sighed. He was not optimistic about the siege. If the combat power inside and outside the city were simply compared, Nibo Town actually had the upper hand. The monsters outside were strong but lacked strategy, charging in a frenzy and failing to fully utilize their strength. With the help of the low wall, the adventurers used various tactics to repel the enemy's attacks time and again.

However, there was no counterattack, which made Green realize a fact: as hired adventurers, they lacked the spirit of sacrifice. Leaving the city wall was something no one would do unless they were absolutely sure, even for a high reward.

If the stalemate continued, Green wouldn't be too worried about the bear goblins, trolls, and dogheads, or even the catapults. But he recognized the holy symbol on the enemy's flag, knowing it was the mark of the God of Nightmares, Ramashtu. This was a deity who could create and control nightmares, and his priests might have similar powers. Once night fell and the need for rest came, trouble might begin.

He didn't know exactly what would happen, but he felt there was a significant risk. Weapons and tactics were not the only factors determining victory; morale often played a decisive role.

He spat hard and began to think about a way out. He would never wait to die with fools; one time was enough.

"Hey, look, that half-orc general is out again." The adventurers on the city wall were tense: "That bastard, is he using the same trick again? This time, everyone plug your ears and don't listen to his persuasion to leave the city wall, got it?"

Suru was fully armed, his armor a bit uncomfortable due to the poor fit. He had not been trained to fight in full armor by the rangers, so his movements always looked awkward.

In his left hand, he held a spare shield, and in his right, a blood-red, serrated sword. He had already used these two pieces of equipment to kill several city guards, including a paladin of Iomedae (the goddess of justice and glory). He knew he was not suited for melee, making him easy to ambush, and he could only maximize the power of his shield and weapon in one-on-one combat. At the time, the cunning Mike had used such tactics to defeat him.

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