Turning the tables!
Since he couldn't avoid these four deadly grim reapers, Yaxiu stopped trying to dodge them altogether and even thought about turning the tables to use them instead.
And Yaxiu had a point: although this outworld invasion operation was indeed the best opportunity to escape in recent times, he was not particularly nervous. After all, the Void Realm had already given him a guarantee.
It was like a professor promising before an exam that you would definitely pass. While you wouldn't hand in a blank sheet, you could comfortably skip a few questions you didn't know, knowing that even if your test score wasn't great, the professor would bump up your attendance and participation grade enough to get you through.
For Igola and the others, however, Yaxiu's status had practically skyrocketed from a "disposable taunt minion" to a "first-class protected animal of the prison." After all, sticking close to Yaxiu meant smoothly escaping the Blood Moon. They would barely have time to protect him properly, let alone throw him out as a consumable decoy!
However...
"You don't actually believe that what's mentioned in the Destiny Q&A will definitely happen, do you?" Langna said calmly. "The only absolute in the destiny faction is that there are no absolutes in destiny."
Ronald threw up his hands. "Besides, you can't even prove you really encountered a Destiny Q&A. Even if you're willing to wager your moral integrity on it, Yaxiu, does a cult leader even have any moral integrity to speak of?"
Harvey nodded along. "Even if the Destiny Q&A is real and you really do escape the Blood Moon, that doesn't necessarily prove you need to be alive. Even if you turn into a corpse, I can still carry you out of the Blood Moon."
Igola delivered the fatal blow: "Compared to dragging an entire living person along, wouldn't it be much more efficient to kill you, pack you into four crates, and carry you as protective amulets?"
*Damn it, they actually make a lot of sense!*
Having failed in his attempt to flex, Yaxiu hung his head in dejection. Out of his sight, the other four swiftly exchanged glances and reached an unspoken consensus.
"Hm?"
The tent flap was suddenly flipped open, and a tall orc sniper stepped inside.
His face was uncovered, one of his eyes was mechanical, and sniper firearm mountings were fitted onto his shoulders, hands, knees, and waist. These sorcerer firearms had completely discarded physical bullets and had to be activated by sorcery spirits to fire.
Gun Arts Faction—Eight-Sniper Style!
Igola and the others immediately recognized the orc's developmental path. This was an assault configuration developed by orcs and ogres that merged their robust physiques with gun arts. Equipped with multiple heavy sorcerer sniper rifles, they relied on sorcery spirits for targeting and firing, forcibly dispersing the recoil across their entire bodies through sorcery spirits. In head-on combat, they were unbelievably fierce—true assault marksmen and deadly blades on the battlefield. Below Three Wings, almost no defensive miracle from a sorcerer could withstand a concentrated volley locked on by the Eight-Sniper Style.
The orc sniper was also surprised to find this tent completely full. He swiftly assessed the strength of the earlier arrivals: the duo on the right bench was not to be provoked;
the one on the middle bench radiated a hazy gray aura of death under his Deadshot Tactical Eye Type 7, best left alone;
and while two people were seated on the left bench as well, the tall one looked confident and poised, while the other nondescript fellow hung his head in dejection as if constipated.
In an instant, the orc sniper deduced who in this tent was the easiest target and reached out directly toward Yaxiu. "You—"
*Ah, which tea cafe should I go hang out at? I really need to take a dump. That shrimp-paste-flavored Lalafell is so good. When will I ever strike it rich—*
The orc sniper snapped to attention abruptly, realizing that he had just been stunned by a flood of random, stray thoughts for a full two seconds, to the point of forgetting his situation and objective!
*An attack from the mind faction!*
He tried to move, but his feet were numb as though they didn't belong to him, a rancid aura of death creeping up from his feet to his waist.
*A bizarre miracle of the necromancy faction!*
The orc instinctively prepared to unleash full firepower in an indiscriminate assault, but two steel balls suddenly shot in from the right, hitting him squarely in the eye and knee. Not only did they blind him temporarily, but they forced him to drop to his knees!
*Gun arts or archery arts?*
The orc strained to force open a slit of his eye, only for a whip kick like a blade's edge to fill his vision!
*Smack!*
Everything happened in the blink of an eye. By the time Yaxiu looked up, all he saw was a dark silhouette flying backward out of the tent, unable to even let out a scream.
He tilted his head, utterly bewildered. "What just happened?"
"Nothing," Igola said, patting his shoulder in a friendly manner. "By the way, my conscience suddenly caught up with me. While you really are quite useless, we do have a bit of history together after all. So rest assured, Yaxiu, I won't use you as bait. Stick with me, and I will lead you to victory!"
Yaxiu glanced at Igola, his eyes brightening bit by bit, the corners of his mouth curling into an amused arc.
"I get it. In other words, I'm very important, aren't I?"
Igola's expression didn't flinch. "Oh, Yaxiu... you truly are so ordinary, yet so full of confidence..."
"If I were truly useless, you would flatter and praise me instead, waiting until my ego blew up before kicking me out to die. Conversely, only if I'm actually useful would you do everything you can to suppress my confidence so I'd willingly let myself be used by you." Yaxiu pointed at Harvey. "Don't forget, I watched the entire process of you recruiting Harvey. It's just that Harvey didn't fall for it."
Harvey raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
"Oh? Getting cocky, are we, Yaxiu? So do you prefer performing an erotic dance, or doing a handstand while having explosive diarrhea—fuck, do you have a death wish?!"
Yaxiu simply flipped back Igola's hood and vigorously ruffled his hair, giggling, "Come on, make a wish! I'll do my best to grant it! Whoever doesn't make a wish is a puppy! Come on!"
"Hahaha! I knew I wasn't wrong! You really did believe me, Igola! Compared to an unknown future full of enormous danger, you'd much rather choose this certain future of staying by my side and protecting me until we leave!"
"Have you forgotten that the moment we cross the passage, you'll be of no use anymore? I can order you to wait in place for forty-eight hours after crossing and then head right back to the Blood Moon."
Yaxiu froze mid-motion, then sat properly like a good child. "I'm sorry. I was being too cocky."
Igola irritably fixed his hair and pulled his hood back up. Seeing the cult leader beside him actually having the leisure to borrow nail clippers from Langna, he was furious enough to wish for Yaxiu to pull out his own intestines and hang himself with them.
Besides, was this a joke? How could even an idiotic man whose social skills were on par with a toddler class at a rearing institute easily see through his thoughts now? Was Igola slipping, or was Yaxiu just ridiculously baffling?
Thinking carefully, how many times had he suffered a setback at Yaxiu's hands now?
The fourth time? The fifth?
Igola practically felt that Yaxiu was his natural predator. In his heart, he made a decision contrary to the principles of a swindler: *This brat cannot be allowed to live! The moment we leave the Blood Moon, I'm going to get this cult leader killed!*
*The day I leave the Blood Moon shall be the day of your burial, Yaxiu!*
Meanwhile, several other people attempted to enter the fifth tent, but all of them were driven away. Soon, the goblin's voice echoed outside: "Team formation time is over. Random teams may step out."
The five of them walked out of the tent, looking up to see three people standing on the elevated platform.
"Very good. All the random teams are filled," the goblin nodded in satisfaction. "Next is the blessing segment. Standing to my left is Subdeacon Ke'er, sent by the church. The priest team led by her will bestow the Blood Moon blessing upon everyone."
Dressed in a gold-trimmed white robe, Subdeacon Ke'er was tall, yet her features were adorable, with baby fat on both cheeks of her round little face that made one itch to pinch them. Looking a bit shy, she nodded to the adventurers, a big gray wolf tail swaying back and forth behind her.
"And as for this hunter standing to my right, surely everyone knows him. He is none other than Gerard Westminster of the Sin Hunting Hall's Law Enforcement Brigade—"
In complete unison, all five of them backed straight into the tent.
Chapter 165