Chapter 8

To accomplish anything, one cannot do without earning money. Rody frowned, pondering how to make money in this remote and impoverished place, while carefully selecting suitable arrows from the remaining wooden arrows—taking so many was because he needed to find thirty arrows that would ensure accuracy.

Each arrow had different straightness, curvature (hardness), length, and center of gravity. For Rody, who had achieved a certain level of proficiency in archery, his skill was naturally beyond what ordinary scouts could imagine. At this moment, he was holding the file that Dick had brought, making fine adjustments to the thirty arrows he had selected...

After grinding the slots at the base of each arrow to a uniform width, he began to test shoot all these arrows—this time, Rody's shooting distance was changed to forty meters. After each shot, he would remain still for a moment, as if deep in thought. After shooting the thirty arrows in three groups, each time he retrieved the arrows, Rody would carve a faint mark on their tails.

These actions piqued Dick's curiosity, who stood by the side, but he ultimately resisted the urge to ask. After Rody modified the piece of leather armor into a simple finger guard, the distant scout team was already preparing to set off.

Handing the remaining arrows back to Dick, Rody smiled, shouldered the horn bow and the thirty arrows, and walked to his horse. Captain Carter's attitude towards Rody had changed somewhat from before; now he no longer put on the airs of a captain, and his words were filled with concern, almost making one think he and Rody were both scout captains. However, Rody had no interest in exchanging pleasantries and listened attentively to the tasks Carter subsequently assigned—

"Yesterday's sudden attack by the orcs was unexpected. Although we... won, we also paid a heavy price. Lieutenant Sordin has already reported the news to Holier City. I believe the number of scouts will be increased within a few days, but to ensure that those damned orcs have not infiltrated our borders, today... we will conduct a large-scale reconnaissance."

In a sense, Carter's behavior could be considered "dutiful." Although his martial skills were not outstanding, his thoughts did not deviate from the right path—compared to the traitorous nobles of the future that Rody remembered, he was far superior. This country had been weak for a long time, with the lords and nobles ruling their own territories, and the king's territory was less than a quarter of the vast land, the rest being divided among the lords, leading to constant internal strife.

The downfall of the Calen Kingdom, as Rody remembered, was due to these noble lords still plotting against each other even in the face of orc attacks, ultimately leading to repeated defeats and the near annihilation of the old families.

Carter's words, which Rody heard intermittently, woke him from his reverie. He raised his head and straightened his chest, listening to the captain's serious instructions on the reconnaissance direction: "Twenty kilometers west of Nolan Village, conduct a radiating reconnaissance. If it is confirmed to be safe, continue ten kilometers west after resting at noon."

"Captain... isn't that—"

The faces of several team members changed, and they immediately spoke up to ask, but Carter waved them off.

"I know that is a neutral zone, and any accidents there do not require responsibility. But since these damned orcs have approached our border, we must make them pay in blood!"

Although Carter gave the impression of being a slacker and a veteran, the death of the soldiers still had a significant impact on him. Although his abilities were not strong, in matters concerning the lord's honor, such as the orc invasion of the border, he was not lacking in enthusiasm. His eloquence even surprised Rody, who found that the man was quite adept at stirring up emotions.

As for the royal family of the Calen Kingdom, which had little influence, the scouts mostly had no particular feelings. However, for Duke Lucifer, the soldiers adhered to the basic principle of loyalty—this was the most significant difference between this era and the modern world Rody had once lived in.

In this society, similar to medieval Europe, there was no concept of sovereignty. The most commonly used principle was something like "contract." Most people, such as all the villagers of Nolan Village, were the "property" of the lords. The lords provided protection, and the villagers provided taxes and soldiers in times of war. The scout team Rody was in was a private army loyal to the Lucifer family.

Although it was not easy to accept such a concept, Rody had long been accustomed to it after playing the game for so long. At this moment, the team members, hearing Carter's speech, were stirred up and responded loudly...

Listening to the young soldiers' slogans, Rody's lips curled into a bitter smile.

The Calen Kingdom... in "Riftlands" was like an old man among human kingdoms, established seventy years ago by "Conqueror Con." At that time, the royal family was powerful, and the king's army struck fear into the hearts of orcs, undead, and surrounding enemies. But after that, the country gradually declined, the power of the nobles grew, and the royal family's influence diminished. Many belligerent lords dragged the country into civil strife, causing great suffering to the common people...

However, the people of the Calen Kingdom always had a spirit of never giving up, which allowed the kingdom to stand firm amidst the encirclement of orcs and undead, even as it gradually weakened, always facing the covetous with a straight back...

Although Rody was just a player in the game, over seven years, he had witnessed the resilience and determination of countless citizens as the kingdom disintegrated, and the sacrifices of many people, as well as the tireless efforts of those who, like smoke, had disappeared in the changing winds...

Although it was just a game, its realism and depth made a spirit, like a totem, stand permanently in Rody's heart, becoming one of the reasons he accepted his role as a scout without complaint.

"Do you understand the mission?"

Captain Carter's words pulled Rody back from his chaotic thoughts. He immediately responded loudly, just like all the other team members: "Understood, Captain!"

"Then let's set off." Carter adjusted his uniform and the equipment on his horse, signaling the second team of scouts to depart immediately.

A group of seven scouts immediately rode out of Nolan Village, beginning their first large-scale, long-distance radiating reconnaissance in nearly three years. After mounting his horse, Captain Carter turned to Rody and said, "The position of deputy captain is vacant. You will take it. If I die, you will lead the remaining people to continue."

These words were sudden, but the few team members who had participated in yesterday's battle remained silent in默契. Rody, holding the reins, hesitated for a moment, then nodded, but for some reason, he muttered to himself—

"For the glory of Calen."

This phrase made Captain Carter pause, and then he felt a lump in his throat.

Peace had lasted too long, and people had long forgotten the fierce orcs on the other side of the grasslands. Carter was originally the same, but yesterday, he suddenly realized that war had never truly gone away... and today, he seemed to be walking down the path of defending the nation's dignity.

Would he die? Maybe.

Would he regret it? No.

Placing his hand on his chest, Captain Carter solemnly saluted and whispered, "For the glory of Calen!"

The team moved forward in silence, the sound of hooves echoing across the vast grasslands.

...

At noon, the sun was high in the sky.

In April, the temperature was warming, and on the vast Naximia Grasslands, gray hares could occasionally be seen hopping into the numerous burrows. Eagles circled in the sky, and the wind carried the fresh scent of the grasslands.

Everything seemed as peaceful and stable as the scouts had seen for the past ten years.

However, when the team stopped to rest and water their horses at noon, the always somewhat silent Rody knew that danger was approaching.

Through his game memories and the memories of "Rody," he had already analyzed his current position and the distance to the edge of the orc territory.

"Riftlands" was set to launch in two years, and most human players born in the Calen Kingdom would be distributed in areas like Nolan Village, where encounters with orcs were commonplace. The village and town gates had various tasks posted, and players competed to complete them. Now, although the green-skinned brutes had not yet spread to that extent, yesterday's battle had proven that the orcs were taking action.

The team had already completed the twenty-kilometer radiating reconnaissance mission. After the horses rested, they would continue to the northwest of the border. In Rody's memory, after passing two small hills on the grasslands, there should be one of the three forward watchtowers built by the orcs—when the game launched, these three watchtowers were the most forward supply stations for orc scouts and stragglers, considered by the Calen Kingdom as the "fangs" the orcs used to try to tear into the empire's territory.

But did these watchtowers... exist now?

From the situation of the scout team being attacked by orcs, Rody could deduce that the orcs must have a base nearby, but whether it was the watchtower he remembered from the future still needed to be confirmed.

He looked at the weapons in his equipment slot—the short sword with 1-2 attack power was almost negligible. This shoddy equipment was not really effective; as a former berserker, he used heavy weapons, and this toy-like weapon, which lacked any force when swung, was completely unsuitable.

In "Riftlands," equipment was important for players, but it did not mean that the stronger the equipment, the stronger the person. A level 30 swordmaster could use a 1-2 attack short sword to kill a player who had not crossed the 30-level threshold, which was not just a fantasy but a fact. The higher the level, the higher the attributes, but more importantly, the skill bonuses and the player's understanding of their class.

Rody, in his previous life, had crossed level 30 as a ranger and approached level 60, which showed his exceptional talent was not just talk.

At this moment, the 7-12 damage of the horn bow was already a standout among level 1 ranged weapons. With the +1 additional damage arrows, if he hit a vital spot like the head, Rody was confident that the critical hit value could exceed 100—damage in "Riftlands" fluctuated greatly, and it was not a simple matter of deducting health based on the displayed values. A single arrow through the head could cause ten times the damage, while a sword deflected by plate armor might not even draw blood.

So, in a sense, absolute strength did not necessarily represent a person's power; more important was their skill.

Thinking about the marked arrows, Rody, who had once been a level 59 "Shadow Hunter," felt reassured and carefully considered when to get better equipment.

"Guys, let's get ready to set off."

Captain Carter ended the rest at the right time. The scouts equipped their weapons and mounted their horses. The seven of them continued westward towards the border of the orc kingdom... their expressions gradually becoming more serious, as they approached the "Central Buffer Zone" between the orc kingdom and the Calen Kingdom—here, any incidents would not involve the treaties the kingdom had signed.

Here, they lost their last psychological support and had to abandon their most naive illusions, because once they encountered orcs, there would be no hesitation, and the outcome would be determined by fate, leaving no room for second thoughts.

Rody gripped the reins, his gaze fixed on the distant hill. The leading Captain Carter turned back, trying to discern something from this suddenly powerful but inscrutable man, but he could not read anything from Rody's expression. However, as they ascended the hill on the grassland, the lead scout's exclamation made Carter's expression stiffen!

On the supposedly empty grassland, a camp had appeared!

About a dozen orc-skin tents were arranged in a circle, with some dried meat hanging outside the crude tents. In the center, there was a crooked wooden tower... a few figures were moving around, their broad and muscular builds immediately catching the scouts' attention.

Everything indicated that this camp was an orc forward outpost—Rody, looking at the scene, saw the memory of the outpost with its ten-acre area and tall watchtower gradually overlap with this crude camp...

It's this one!

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