60: 22.
Night Battle in the Swamp_1 60: 22.
Night Battle in the Swamp_1 On the evening of August 21, Year 1111, at the entrance to the Polluted Swamp on the southern border of the Transylvania region.
Miss Phemys, the commander of sixty midnight hunters and twenty fully ard Blood Servants, had left the camp and headed for an ambush on the edge of the swamp.
At the sa ti, Murphy and his two escorts along with sixteen players were ambushing at the predetermined location in the Smugglers’ Forest on the swamp edge.
They were tucked away in a small trench dug in advance, peering nervously at the unnerving forest looming in the darkness before them.
Even the most heartless of players had stopped their horseplay at this mont.
The six n dormitory group and Bull Bull, the sportsman, were placed in the forward pit, holding hand crossbows and hunting crossbows confiscated from the witch hunter, with various cold weapons lying by their side.
They were the first choice for the charge.
The dormitory’s six patrons were very opinionated about this, but the outco was decided by drawing lots, and even if they were dissatisfied, they can only bla their bad luck.
High up in the tree branches, Miss Lumina·Sun Mark, chosen as the sniper, had put a ring of grass on top of her head, a scene she learned from a war movie she had watched.
She was currently lying prone on a wooden board set up at the fork of the branches, scouting for targets.
She wasn’t sure how many she could hit in this pitch-dark night.
But she knew this was the n showing unspoken chivalry and favoritism to her.
After all, her spot was essentially the safest in this tactical setup.
“No chewing gum…”
In the unevenly dug trench, Wuioge was quietly complaining when a fellow player next to him handed him a straw stem, implying that it could help him relieve so tension if he chewed on it.
But due to yesterday’s accident of eating the wrong thing and nearly becoming the first to die in the wild in the ga, Wuioge had developed a phobia of these wild things.
“Relax, I checked with the NPC, it is not toxic.
I’m wondering, did you have to hurriedly use the restroom after you logged off yesterday?
I am really curious to see if this ntal discomfort will actually affect your physical body.”
The player beside him with a straw stem in his mouth teased, but was promptly hit by an annoyed Wuioge.
The player then stopped laughing, adjusted his helt, and said with a look of anticipation,
“I heard from our NPC that there is a fellowship of adventurers organized by the half-body n on this continent, they have many survival experts who could be compared to Bear Grylls.
We should definitely go see them when we have the chance.”
“When would that be?
”
As the commander of the entire operation, Happy Stick was holding the Dwarf Hunter Gun, crawled over from the rear, and complained to Wuioge:
“We don’t have any surveillance ans, and can only passively wait here, how annoying!
If only I had a flare right now.”
“What would you want that for?”
The player nad Excavator queried from next to him,
“To use as a signal flare?”
“Bullshit!”
Happy Stick made a shooting motion, and viciously declared,
“If I fire it above the ‘friendly’ camp, I wouldn’t have to wait here miserably.
We’re not well prepared for this battle.
We need to seize the initiative!
Really, one should not always be on the defensive in battle.
Look at this wonderful virtual reality, such a great battlefield.
It would be a waste not to establish sothing here.”
Then he filled the air with so obscure talk of “horizontal fire artillery” and “neutron annihilation”, which left the other players baffled and chilly.
After Happy Stick grumbled and walked away, “Three-Five-Battles”, one of the “Four Heavenly Kings” under Wuioge’s command, poked the boss’s shoulder and whispered,
“Wuioge, what does this guy do in real life?
He seems kind of scary.”
“He creates sandtable gas, loves to play gas by P studio.”
Wuioge was also starting to regret inviting this war crazed person into their ga, not sure whether it was a good or a bad idea.
“Ah, so he’s a criminal from P studio!
Then it’s nothing.”
The others seed to understand now.
Suddenly, Happy Stick’s outlandish behaviour seed to have a logical explanation.
Although Happy Stick appeared confident in front of others, once he had finished inspecting the battlefield setup and was alone again, he gasped nervously.
He stared at the notebook filled with details of various plans, took a deep breath, and psyched himself up.
Tonight’s arrangent was all his handy work, but he was undoubtedly the most nervous among them all.
The question of whether he was proficient or just a armchair general would soon be answered.
“Swoosh”
A shadow silently fell behind him, patted Happy Stick’s shoulder, causing him to whip around and see Murphy staring at him in the dark.
“Sir Morphy…”
Happy Stick attempted to say sothing in the sa way the others addressed Murphy, but was silenced by Morphy’s shake of his head.
Morphy said to Happy Stick,
“You are the Commander, you should be with your soldiers!
Don’t be nervous, my warrior, you have all done your best, I’ve seen it.
We have done all we can, leave the rest to fate.
I think, although fate is a bitch, tonight it will still favor the brave.”
“Yes!
Sir!”
Encouraged by Murphy, Happy Stick instinctively straightened his spine and snapped to a salute.
Then he watched as Murphy waved his hand, disappearing into the darkness of the night.
User Comments
0 comments from readers