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墨書 Inktalez
Not a single Goblin was left alive; they were all sent to meet Death. If it weren't for the absence of the Soul Banner, their souls would have been scattered to the winds.
John glanced at the direction he was heading, burdened with a circle of supplies, making his way deeper into Tunlin. He knew his purpose here was to win, and his primary task now was to find the scattered teams. The more people he had with him, the better his chances of survival; he needed to stick together.
As night fell, John looked up at the sky. His sharp eyes fixed on the more than a hundred celestial bodies radiating dazzling light above him. However, after careful observation, he was certain that these were not true suns.
Typically, the sun would move slowly across the sky, but here, it seemed as if they were nailed to the firmament. Even at night, they remained steadfast in their positions, showing no signs of movement. Moreover, the color of this sky appeared to be under some mysterious influence, constantly changing with the passage of time. Fortunately, John could use these stationary stars to determine his direction.
For now, he decided to consider the direction he was facing as north. Thus, he followed this established path and traveled relentlessly for five hundred miles without realizing it. If it had been an ordinary person, they would have likely collapsed from exhaustion long before reaching this point. But John was a Transcendent Epic Knight; despite such a long journey, his steps did not falter.
However, he felt a sense of frustration and unease as he encountered soldiers from various countries along the way but had yet to see any allies. After an entire day of fierce fighting, blood had soaked through his once pristine white shirt, making his body sticky and uncomfortable beyond description. Even so, he dared not remove his heavy armor.
He understood that no matter how powerful he was, even a courageous knight like him could fall victim to an unassuming pitchfork. In this treacherous environment where friend and foe were hard to distinguish, it was better to be cautious.
John carefully hid in the shadows and did not dare to light a fire. After all, in this perilous jungle, even a spark could attract unexpected dangers. With no other choice, he poured some water from his canteen onto his hard rations to soften them and forced himself to chew them down to quell his hunger.
After filling his stomach, John looked around and noticed a towering tree not far away. An idea struck him; he decided to climb up into the tree to endure this difficult night. Once atop the branches, he found a sturdy trunk and tied himself securely with the rope he carried. Although his position was somewhat awkward, it ensured that he wouldn’t fall while asleep.
In such a strange and hostile environment, John's mind could not find peace for a long time. He couldn't help but recall this inexplicable chaos that felt like a brutal bloodbath involving millions fleeing for their lives.
He felt like a puppet manipulated by fate—a clown for others' amusement. Various chaotic thoughts swirled in his mind, leaving him dizzy and overwhelmed. Meanwhile, fatigue washed over him like a tide, mercilessly reminding him of his need for rest. Gradually, John's eyelids grew heavier until he finally succumbed to sleep.
At dawn, weak rays of light filtered through the leaves above him. The once tranquil forest was suddenly shattered by intense sounds of battle. This abrupt noise struck John like thunder, jolting him awake from his slumber. He opened his eyes wide; his heart raced as beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
After regaining some composure, John quickly grabbed his water pouch hanging beside him and took several gulps of icy spring water in an attempt to wake himself up. Then he hastily snatched a piece of dry food and chewed while loosening the rope tied around his waist. Finally, he stealthily descended from the tree and began cautiously making his way toward the source of the sounds of combat.
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