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墨書 Inktalez
The surroundings were enveloped in a deathly silence, as if even the wind had come to a standstill. However, this suffocating stillness lasted only a moment before it was shattered by a piercing sound of blades being drawn!
Those who reacted swiftly moved like wild beasts, wielding their weapons without hesitation and striking fiercely at those around them clad in various attires. Meanwhile, those who were slightly slower raised their own blades in a frantic attempt to block the impending onslaught.
This brutal battle had raged for a full two months, and those who managed to survive were all seasoned warriors of exceptional strength. Here, the acts of cannibalism and murder had become essential skills for every individual present. Those lacking such abilities had long since perished in the swirling snow, leaving no trace behind.
John was no exception. The moment the words left his lips, he swiftly raised his long blade, its edge slightly curled, and with all his might, he struck down hard. At the same time, he moved like an agile leopard, desperately pushing toward the edge of the vast grassland.
The situation was dire; there was no time to waste! The expansive plain was teeming with countless figures. Even someone as powerful as John, with his Epic-level knightly prowess, would ultimately be overwhelmed and exhausted if trapped amidst such a multitude of enemies.
Thus, his only chance of survival lay in escaping the crowd as quickly as possible to reduce the likelihood of being besieged. After all, even Epic-level knights were merely mortals. They too could feel fatigue and could be wounded by sharp blades; once injured, blood would flow freely from their wounds.
On this blood-soaked battlefield, slaughter reigned supreme. As the carnage intensified, a terrifying red glow began to emerge in everyone's eyes, reminiscent of demons from the depths of hell that sent chills down one’s spine.
With a surge of murderous intent flooding their minds like a tidal wave, rationality was instantly drowned. At that moment, the long blades gripped tightly in their hands lost all sense of distinction between friend and foe; they swung wildly and cut indiscriminately.
Yet amidst this chaos, there remained a small number of individuals whose minds were still somewhat clear. They realized that the situation had spiraled out of control and began to devise ways to break free. These individuals struggled through layers upon layers of people until they finally reached the edge of the battlefield.
But just then, they were stunned to discover—like John—that a transparent wall stood at the periphery of the crowd, mercilessly blocking everyone’s escape route.
John's gaze turned steely as he quickly tore off a piece of cloth and tightly wrapped it around the hilt of his blade to ensure it wouldn’t slip from his grasp. At that moment, he understood there was no turning back; he could only give his all in this bloody fight for survival. Nothing else mattered but living—this was his sole belief at that instant.
He swung his blade with glimmering cold light, cutting through every arm that dared to reach for him with overwhelming force. Anyone bold enough to retaliate would find that his sharp edge would unhesitatingly pierce their throat. In an instant, blood sprayed everywhere, staining the ground before John and soaking every inch of his heavy armor.
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