The heavy warriors in the front row couldn’t describe the feeling they had when that withered hand broke through the soil.
Their hearts seemed to be squeezed tight, and large beads of sweat dripped down one by one.
They watched helplessly as she pushed aside the earth and crawled out from underground.
Her hair was as dry and yellow as weeds, her body as thin as a stalk of hemp, her face inhuman—her skin charred black with patches of red, lava-like wounds scattered all over.
But soon, a strange wind blew, and her body rapidly transformed, as if the hands of a clock were being turned back, life returning to her.
Her long hair was a vivid green, her skin pure white, and paired with her petite frame, she looked like a little girl just one hundred and twenty years old—the future flower of the Elves.
She tilted her head slightly, revealing a radiant smile: “Good morning. Are you here to pick me up?”
The captain of the heavy infantry responsible for the first three rows suppressed the fear in his heart and shouted, “Enemy attack! Form ranks!”
Thud thud thud!
Huge square shields slammed against the ground, forming a wall that blocked their line of sight and helped them regain their courage.
The little girl paid no mind to their reactions and continued to smile: “Is anyone there? I want to ask—my good friend is missing. Do you know where she is?”
Of course, no one answered. The only response was the sound of the army readying themselves.
The shields formed a barrier, and the archers stepped forward, nocking their arrows under cover.
“She should be about one thousand three hundred and thirty years old this year—an old lady by now.”
The bowstrings tightened, arrows ready to fly.
“Her name is Sally, but she might have changed it. Do you know where she is?”
“Archers, fire!”
The full-moon bows released their arrows in a furious volley, turning the spot where the girl stood into a sieve, several arrows piercing her body.
There was no effect—no screams, no blood, no collapse.
The arrows seemed to hit a corpse.
As if they couldn’t kill someone who was already dead.
At that moment, the girl’s smile disappeared, her expression darkening.
“Why won’t you answer me? Why won’t you tell me?”
She stepped forward, her body drifting like sand toward the heavy infantry in front of her.
With one hand, she passed through the shield and grabbed the soldier’s neck.
Pfft!
Blood gushed from his throat.
His eyes rolled back, and an eerie blackness spread from his neck.
“Let him go!”
Both sides slammed their shields forcefully against each other.
With a loud thud, it sounded like hitting a solid wall, and they themselves stumbled to the ground.
The front row’s formation collapsed.
The little girl lifted the soldier by his neck, the blackness spreading to his brain.
In the agonizing pain worse than death, he gasped out:
“I don’t know… I don’t know who you mean… I…”
“Oh really? That’s so mean.”
Crack.
The heavy infantry’s neck was crushed like wood, his head dropping to the ground and rolling several times.
“Magician team, full power attack!”
“But our people are still within attack range…”
“We can’t worry about that anymore!”
A few seconds later, the head on the ground opened its eyes again, the pupils shining ruby red.
Miles away, Ella exhaled in relief.
At last, there was a corpse she could connect with.
Let me check the situation on-site—hoh, good grief, this young lady!
Her gaze immediately fixed on the green-haired girl. She was the only one on the scene who didn’t match the others’ style—clearly Westsa herself.
Around her lay numerous fallen heavy infantry, and the huge square shields had all fallen to the ground.
The seemingly impregnable wall was broken in an instant.
Above her, a Dragonhawk Rider was approaching.
The Elf on the hawk raised a javelin and hurled it fiercely.
Whoosh—!
It was precise, hitting Westsa’s hand directly.
She caught the javelin barehanded and threw it back, skewering the rider and the hawk in one throw.
“Peterwin!”
The Dragonhawk Rider squad leader cried out in pain but had no time for sorrow.
He waved his hands, signaling to the others:
“Gain altitude! Don’t get too close!”
The riders in the sky were not like the infantry on the ground.
Their entire tribe had only so much left. If the attack didn’t work, they couldn’t afford to lose them for nothing.
Ella, watching through the corpse’s eyes, felt a shiver down her spine.
Good thing she didn’t fly up to watch, or she might have crashed.
She could probably dodge, but the Dragonhawk couldn’t.
Westsa pulled an arrow from her body and casually tossed it aside, bringing down another Dragonhawk and its rider.
At the same time, the Magician team launched their attack.
Nearly two hundred mages chanted spells in unison.
The forest awakened, and vines in the bushes grew wildly, slithering like snakes to bind Westsa.
Several large trees uprooted and swung their massive branches, sweeping toward her.
See? She was right—the forest was part of the Elves too.
But as for the actual effect…
Ella saw the vines around Westsa wither quickly, the strange black substance poisoning along the roots. She already knew how this would end.
Throughout the whole process, the little girl didn’t move a muscle.
Terrifying!
The corpse on the ground closed its eyes, while the pink-haired thunder girl far away opened hers.
“Zero, come with me!”
Returning to the previous place, Celes was the first to see them and waved, calling out: “Ella, Zero, we’re here… where did you just go?”
“Not time to explain.”
Ella came back, grabbing Liraleah’s hand with one and holding back Vina, who was about to excitedly say, “You’re not pretending anymore, right?” She said urgently to Celes:
“We have to retreat immediately!”
“What happened exactly?”
“They’re no match for Westsa!”
Ella understood now. Under the evil god’s game rules, Westsa not only had a clear goal but also a time limit.
Their opponents only needed to hide and survive in a seemingly enclosed but actually vast map—for three days.
What was this?
An asymmetric competitive game!
More specifically, a survival horror asymmetric competitive game.
In her past life, a similar game was called Dead by Dawn.
Because of Ella’s resolute attitude, Celes was equally decisive.
On the way back, they even grabbed a few Messenger Deer Carriages, mounted them, and ran back to the treehouse to pack their things before running as far as possible.
No one even looked back at the chaos behind them.
“A little further ahead is where the freelancers gather, where Lambart lives,” Celes asked Ella for her opinion. “Should we settle there first?”
“Mm.”
“And then? What next?”
“I don’t know. Westsa wants to kill Elder Isadora to complete the sacrifice. She doesn’t know where the elder is, and right now, neither do we.”
Ella jumped down from the Messenger Deer Carriage, took a deep breath, and steadied her nerves.
“Rest for a bit first, then figure out a way to gather information.”