It Is the Will of the Gods

"Motherfucker... we're finally out of that damn desert!" Panting and wheezing heavily, Construction Site Youth and Brick wiped the sand and sweat from his face. Looking at the mountain range ahead, an irrepressible joy surged across his brow. And he wasn't the only one. Every Strength-type player in the Death Corps burst into cheers the moment they laid eyes on the desert's edge. Pedaling their tricycles all this way had pushed them to the verge of leveling up, but at last, they were looking upon the mountains of the River Valley Province. If they hadn't been reluctant to lose that hard-earned EXP and their precious gear, they would have pulled off the "suicide TP" trick to respawn back in town long ago! Kakarot couldn't resist complaining: "Damn it, Brother Mole really has the life. The guy just got back from vacationing in Ideal City and immediately landed a massive gig." Sitting on the tricycle, In Debt God nodded in deep agreement. "Still, that's nine hundred kilometers... How does he plan to get there?" Construction Site Youth and Brick chimed in with a scoff, "Who knows? What are we tricycle peddlers doing worrying about someone who drives?" Hearing his teammates' sarcastic banter, Brother Edge gave an embarrassed grin and patted his "mount" on the shoulder. "Heh heh... Sorry about that, brother. Put you through a lot." Construction Site Youth and Brick rolled his eyes. "Damn right you should be sorry!" Cursing the regiment commander for treating them like beasts of burden was standard operating procedure. Most of them weren't actually that petty. Back when the server first launched, conditions were far more grueling than this. At least they had tricycles now. Back then, even a bicycle was treated like a giant panda. Even Tier 0 and Tier 1 players had to cross the map on their own two feet most of the time. In any case, despite the many bumps along the way, they had broken through the Legion's encirclement after all, pulling off the miracle of a thousand-kilometer raid followed by a thousand-kilometer redeployment. Jubilant smiles spread across everyone's faces. Even the captives, Piman and Antoinette. Tied up like rice dumplings and dumped onto the tricycles, the two had nearly baked into human jerky under the blazing sun. Whatever these people planned to do with them, the agony of the relentless wind and sun was finally over. "This game's map is freaking massive..." In Debt God raised his binoculars and peered northward. He still couldn't see the boundary of the map, as though no such boundary existed in the game's design. This was likely the very first time players of the Alliance had set foot in the northern region of the River Valley Province. Though it was also a plains belt, the plains here gave an entirely different impression from those in the south. There were no verdant forests or sprawling grasslands to be seen. In their place stretched barren yellow earth and sea-buckthorn scrub swaying along the fringe of the Gobi gravel desert. There were forests in the distance, but the tall, straight pine trees stood bare without a single leaf on their branches, vast swaths of vegetation entirely withered away. A single Tianshui River seemed to divide the entire province into two completely different worlds. If the art assets around Qingquan City were built around a palette of grayish green, then this place looked as if someone had splashed a bucket of crap-yellow paint across it. What's more, The mutants roaming the area were even uglier. Mutant hounds, which had thick coats of fur in the south, had only a few sparse hairs clinging to their brows here. In exchange, however, the mutants here were visibly sturdier. Not only were their skeletal frames a size larger, but knotted muscles even bulged onto their faces. Perhaps because of that, the twisted muscle compressed their eyeballs, leaving them with poor eyesight—and leading them to pick a fight with the wrong people. Over thirty mutant hounds swarmed in a chaotic pack, baring their fangs and letting out menacing low growls. Sitting behind Brick, Brother Edge didn't panic in the slightest. Bracing his machine gun, he sprayed a burst across their ranks, dropping half the charging mutant hounds in an instant. The remaining half were swiftly dispatched by several players who hopped off their vehicles, finishing them cleanly with entrenching shovels and bayonets without dragging things out. "A bit tougher than mutant hyenas and gnawers... probably around Level 5 or 6." Brother Edge flicked the blood off his shovel. He suddenly noticed movement further off, signaled his teammate with a glance, set down the shovel, and brought up the rifle slung across his chest. The four moved in cautiously, only to find a humanoid monster crouched on the ground with its back turned to them, its mud-caked hands continuously clawing at the earth. It had an emaciated frame, a sickly grayish-white complexion, and wrinkled skin covered in pustules and sores like a bloated corpse fished from a lake. It seemed to be rooting through the soil for something. Finally, it seemed to find what it sought. Excitedly, it yanked something from the dirt, shoved it into its mouth, and ravenously devoured it, accompanied by sickening crunches. Brother Edge and Construction Site Youth and Brick exchanged baffled looks, unsure what kind of creature they were looking at. Seeming to notice the stir behind it, the monster stopped what it was doing, swept a wary glance over the four of them, backed away, and then scrambled on all fours into the nearby woods. In Debt God raised his rifle to aim at its back, but in the end didn't waste any ammo, lowering his barrel. "...What the hell was that?" "I'm more curious about what it was eating..." Construction Site Youth and Brick walked forward out of curiosity, but soon spotted half a brain half-buried in the dirt. His face instantly flushed green and white, and he choked back a dry heave, cutting his sentence short. "Navy blue... that's a military uniform," Brother Edge walked up to examine the ground, poking at it a couple of times with his entrenching shovel, his brow furrowing slightly. "It's someone from the Legion." And in all likelihood, a decurion! In an instant, Brother Edge seemed to understand. He surveyed the cratered, mud-strewn wasteland around them. This place must have been a battlefield! The Legion's expeditionary force had clashed with the army of the Great Rift Valley right here. And those endless dips, rises, craters, and dirt mounds across the plain were likely plowed out by artillery fire... Although curious about the mutant they had never seen before, none of the players gave chase. That leafless forest gave them the creeps, and there was no telling what strange things were hiding inside. They still had a mission to carry out, so it was best not to invite complications. The group pushed onward and soon encountered a survivor settlement of considerable size. Seeing signs of human habitation brought joyful expressions to the players' faces. Their supplies had been nearly exhausted along the journey; at last, they could restock. Signaling the main group to wait in the distance, Brother Edge brought several familiar teammates forward and stopped a scavenger to ask: "What is this place?" The scavenger glanced at his exoskeleton, then at his rifle, and said warily, "It doesn't have a name. We all call it the Recycling Station." "Recycling Station?" In Debt God interjected curiously. "Yeah. See that plain in the distance?" The man pointed toward the boundless expanse of muddy ground. "That's where the Legion's expeditionary force dug their trenches. Later, they got battered to pieces, thrown into rout. Some died, some fled... All their gear was left behind there." Brother Edge looked in the direction he pointed, faintly making out two trenches severed by shell craters. "You're here scavenging?" "That's right," the man glanced toward the camp behind him, saying in a muffled voice, "Everyone's here to scavenge. Some pick through trash, some buy trash, some sell shovels... The Legion never did any good, but their corpses have fed plenty of folks." Brother Edge nodded. It seemed this wasn't a permanent camp, but a "nomadic band" formed by scavengers. Perhaps once the nearby scrap was picked clean and the scavengers gradually moved away, the camp would shift elsewhere too. As for who was buying all this scrap, there was no need to guess—undoubtedly people from the Bugra Free State. "Can we restock supplies here?" "Why not? Just go into camp and look for the traveling merchants. They'll sell anything as long as you've got coin. But... best not cause trouble, unless you plan on making an enemy of everyone here." The scavenger offered a veiled warning, wasted no more time, picked up his burlap sack, and headed off into the sea of mud. In Debt God turned to Brother Edge. "What do you think?" Brother Edge pondered for a moment and quickly reached a decision. "Resupply, then get back on the road." "Why not camp here?" Brick asked, puzzled. "Our prisoners have special identities, and this place is packed with people doing business with the Bugra Free State. There's no guarantee there aren't eyes and ears among them." Brother Edge glanced at the scavenger's receding back and tipped his chin forward. "Let's go." "Once we get our supplies, we need to move out as soon as possible." ... Stripping off their exoskeletons, Brother Edge took Big Eye and Brick into the camp known as the Recycling Station. Though it looked run-down from the outside, the interior of the camp was bustling in its own right. Traveling merchants leading two-headed oxen had set up stalls along both sides of the paths, peddling not just junk like bottles and jars, but occasionally some unusual high-tech goods as well. There were security bots welded with pipe rifles, and android coolies modified from scavenged scrap and AI cores. Someone was even hawking power armor. Yet when Brother Edge walked over to inspect it, he found that aside from a nearly depleted fuel rod plugged into its chest, not a single part of the contraption bore any resemblance to actual power armor. Construction Site Youth and Brick curiously leaned in to check the price tag. Seeing that it was listed for 600,000 Cr, his eyes popped wide. "Holy crap! Are you robbing people?!" If memory served, the exchange rate between Cr and silver coins was currently 1:3, which meant 1.8 million silver coins! The merchant selling the gear glanced at him. Seeing his clueless, destitute look, the man didn't even bother replying. "We're not here to buy equipment," Brother Edge patted Brick on the shoulder and pulled him back. Most of the gear here was DIYed by scavengers; the malfunction rate was bound to be horrifying. He didn't even have the interest to haggle. "By the way, how much did Lao Bai pay for that power armor of his?" In Debt God suddenly asked. Brother Edge thought back. "I remember... it was a million silver coins?" Hearing that it was only a million silver coins, the players sighed with heartfelt admiration. The Administrator really was conscientious after all. These wastelanders were cunning beyond belief! After wandering through the market, they finally found a merchant selling foodstuffs. The merchant was an older man in his forties. From his features, he appeared to hail from the Sunset Province; people from there, regardless of skin tone, all had deep eye sockets. To the players' pleasant surprise, this merchant actually accepted silver coins! According to the old man, he planned to head south for his next trip anyway, so he accepted both dinars and silver coins. "Four thousand kilograms of hardtack, three hundred kilograms of beef jerky... Let me see. Mm, that'll be ten thousand silver coins." Hearing the old man's quote, Big Eye couldn't help but complain: "Damn! That's so expensive!" Brick also swallowed hard. "Ten thousand silver coins... That's enough to buy a set of Light Cavalry exoskeleton." Brother Edge smiled, not minding much. "Look at it from another angle: using the price of a single Light Cavalry exoskeleton to handle the supplies of five centuries—personally, I think it's a steal." War always cost money. Any problem that could be solved with money wasn't a real problem, especially when logistical expenses would be reimbursed by the Administrator. Pulling a stack of cash from his pocket, he counted out a hundred notes and handed them to the old man. "Deal." The old man took the money with a smile and called over some young lads to help weigh the goods, pack them up, and carry them outside the camp for their guests. Brother Edge had Brick accompany them while he and Big Eye remained in the camp. When Brick returned, In Debt God suddenly recalled the corpse-like monster they had encountered on the road, so he turned to the old man and asked, "Have you ever seen a creature with skin that looks bloated and rotten from water... kind of like a walking corpse?" "Water-bloated? A walking corpse?" The old man thought for a moment, and a faint smile squeezed onto his wrinkled face. "What you ran into was probably a ghoul." In Debt God froze. "A ghoul?" "Mhm. West of the Great Rift Valley, there's a nuclear crater spanning over a hundred kilometers. They probably crawled out from there. They usually don't eat living things, but they're not picky about the dead. To them, pestilence and rot are delicacies." Tapping the ashes from his pipe, the old merchant squinted toward the scavengers in the distance and took a drag from the stem. "...No need to pay them any mind. They're just a bunch of pitiful wretches." ... Meanwhile, far to the south in the Sunset Province, beneath the Twin Peaks of the Zhuobar Mountains. Fueled by individuals with ulterior motives, word that the Legion was bearing down upon the city quickly spread through Petra Fortress. Yet to everyone's utter surprise, the rumor became increasingly distorted as it circulated, growing more and more preposterous... Another dusk settled over the fortress. Old Buma handed the ledger to Sisi. He hesitated for a moment, unable to hold back any longer. "Milady... Petra Fortress is no longer safe. You had best head to the southern docks and buy a boat while there's still time." Looking at Buma's troubled face, Sisi took the ledger and stared blankly, her strained expression turning somewhat odd. "Didn't you say... Petra Fortress could never fall?" If she remembered correctly, she had heard him say those exact words just three days ago. "That is indeed true. A fortress built by the gods cannot be taken by mortals. If it were the Legion coming, no matter how many men they brought, Petra Fortress would make them pay dearly..." Old Buma still wore a face of conviction, but as he spoke, his voice grew uncomfortably timid. "...But if what comes is an evil god, all bets are off." "An evil god?!" Tail's eyes widened in astonishment. Never one to pass up drama, she bounded over and asked excitedly, "What does he look like?" "The epitome of ten thousand uglinesses! No one knows where he comes from—perhaps the heavens, perhaps the abyssal depths. When he descends, his form will choke the entire riverbed, tens of thousands of tentacles tearing through the clouds above, and not even the God of the Sky will be his match..." Tail's eyes sparkled. "Whoa! Super-sized tentacles!" A haze clouded Old Buma's pupils as he attempted to describe something he had never laid eyes on. Yet at present, Tail seemed to be the only one gullible enough to believe it; even Rou Rou shook her head upon hearing it. "...Of all this vast desert, the Legion specifically chose that place! There is no doubt they know their own strength cannot defeat us, so they intend to use a wicked ritual to awaken the demon suppressed by the Scepter of the Sky." "This desert is doomed... The Twilight of the Gods shall come once more, and this time, there is no god left to stop him." The old man rambled under his breath, his cloudy eyes filled with despair. His low voice dwindled until it faded completely into the distant amber twilight beyond the window. Cradling a purring cat in her arms, Sesame Paste quietly looked at Sisi beside her and whispered, "Is this part of the plan?" Lost in thought, Sisi shook her head. "I only had that mercenary spread word about the Legion garrisoning Lost Valley. I never expected the people here... to have such wild imaginations." The Legion stationed in Lost Valley was performing a sinister ritual, scheming to awaken an evil god that had slumbered for two hundred years, using demonic power to topple the insurmountable Petra Fortress... The plan had vastly exceeded expectations—to the point where even a staunch believer like Old Buma was beginning to waver. Looking at that worried, aged face, Sisi couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern. Had she laid it on too thick...? Just as she was worrying, a heavy knocking suddenly sounded at the door. Standing near the door, Sesame Paste heard it and stepped forward to open it. "Sorry, we're closed for the—" Halfway through her sentence, the moment she saw who was standing outside, she froze on the spot. A squad of heavily armed guards stood at the doorway, fully thirty of them. Submachine guns were slung at their waists—and already raised in their hands. The man at their head was the captain of the neighborhood patrol. Old Buma recognized the face immediately and hurried forward with an obsequious smile. "Captain Seandis? May I ask what business you have here?" Ignoring the old man, Seandis swept an expressionless gaze across everyone in the room, including the speaking bear. "Who's the boss here?" Rou Rou hesitated and was about to raise her hand, but Tail beat her to it— Yet before Tail could lift her arm, Sisi, standing beside her, pushed it back down. 'Leave it to me.' Giving Tail a reassuring look, Sisi stepped up beside Sesame Paste. Glancing at the mercenary who had already been subdued, she looked at the patrol captain and said calmly, "I am." Seeing that she had no intention of violently resisting arrest, the patrol captain wasted no words and gestured with his hand. "Come with us." ... A castle shrouded in dusk. The court of the lord of Petra Fortress was packed with anxious courtiers. A man clad in luxurious attire sat upon a stone chair, looking down impassively upon the crowd below the dais. His right elbow rested on the cold armrest, while the index finger of his left hand tapped against it in a steady rhythm. He looked as if he were lost in deep contemplation, or perhaps purely impatient. His name was Sai'en, the castellan of Petra Fortress. His family was a prominent noble clan of the Camel Hump Kingdom, having guarded the kingdom's northern frontier for generations. The Camel Hump Kingdom had declared war on the Falcon Kingdom long ago, yet had delayed sending troops. Though many considered this royal weakness, he knew that wasn't the case. No one in this kingdom was more devout or more courageous than His Majesty. How could that respected lord fail to understand that appeasement would only invite further encroachment? In truth, the royal court had always intended to muster forces to ride north in relief, but the city lords—including the Lord of Silver Moon City—only wanted to provide funds, not men. Those profit-obsessed merchants were still hoping to crush the Legion with sacks of coin. This was fundamentally not a problem that money could solve. Sai'en naturally stood on the king's side. That Petra Fortress and his family had endured to this day was entirely thanks to the royal family's grace. They ate grain transported from the oasis and drank water from the oasis; they were the most loyal guardian march, fundamentally different from those city-states governed by the corruption of nobles and merchants. Yet relying on him alone was not enough. In this kingdom corrupted by gold, cowards were everywhere, and brave men few and far between. It was true of His Majesty's court, and it was true of his own... "...We should negotiate with the Legion. There is no issue that cannot be resolved by sitting down and talking." "The Royal House of Lion was far too reckless! If they hadn't harbored the scions of the Honey Badger royal family, they wouldn't have drawn the Falcon Kingdom's gaze!" "Actually, I think... being like the Falcon Kingdom wouldn't be bad either. The Legion gave them plenty of aid; that oasis hasn't fallen into desolation only because the Legion helped them." "There's certainly no arguing that. While the Wielanders have foul tempers and treat slaves in a rather terrifying manner, they truly treat their vassals well—giving whatever is lacking." "Whatever happens, we must avoid war at all costs. The soil of Petra Fortress cannot grow crops. Once trade is disrupted by war, those poor wretches will starve." The ministers and nobles in the court buzzed with discussion, including nobles without real power, wealthy merchants, and guests. Some proposed negotiations with the Legion. Others subtly hinted that following the Falcon Kingdom's path might not be so bad—not only did the Falcon royal family sit securely upon the throne, but their national strength had multiplied compared to a decade ago. Listening to them made Sai'en thoroughly irritated, yet he couldn't vent his fury upon them; after all, Petra Fortress could not function without them. He was just about to wave his hand and dismiss them when footsteps echoed at the entrance of the great hall. The heavy wooden doors swung open. The captain of the guard stood before the threshold and offered a military salute. "My lord, I have brought the person." The courtiers and nobles in the hall ceased their chatter, turning curious eyes toward the door. Sai'en beckoned, signaling him to bring the person forward. The guard captain bowed to receive the order and crisply strode outside. Before long, he brought in an alien woman. Seeing this, the crowd in the hall began whispering among themselves, wondering what the lord intended to do. Ignoring the clamor, Sai'en, seated upon the stone chair, fixed his gaze on the woman below the dais and looked her over twice. "Do you know why I summoned you here?" Knowing that playing dumb would be pointless, Sisi simply nodded in acknowledgment. "I do." Seeing the composed expression on her face, a flicker of admiration surfaced in Sai'en's eyes. Those cowards itching to kneel before the Legion ought to feel ashamed of their own words; they didn't even possess the courage of a young girl. However— Admiration was admiration. The law was the law. Looking down upon the person below the dais, his gaze held a chill as he spoke with a faint, mocking smile. "In the Camel Hump Kingdom, those who sow rumors to mislead the public and cause unrest have their tongues severed." "Those who use the name of the gods to commit fraud face the ordeal of sand—buried in the scorched dunes for ten days, where none but the gods may grant them food or water." "Almsgiving to the suffering may pardon three days of punishment. You may choose the order of your sentence." "Do you plead guilty?" His solemn, frigid voice echoed through the cavernous hall. All eyes converged upon her—some filled with astonishment, some with smug vindication, others blank and indifferent. To think that the matter causing such an uproar throughout the city had been stirred up by a young girl... It sounded somewhat absurd. Yet judging by the lord's expression, he didn't seem to be joking. A look of intrigue gradually rose in everyone's eyes. Regardless of whether she had been pushed forward as a scapegoat, they were quite eager to see how this alien girl would respond. Sisi remained silent. She knew that whether she nodded or shook her head right now, the outcome would not be good. Come to think of it, did "almsgiving" refer to using gold camel coins to exchange for that "scrap"? She hardly considered that charity—at most, it was a mutually beneficial trade. Still, the fact that this lord's knowledge of the city's happenings reached such an intricate degree genuinely surprised her. It seemed she had taken the NPCs' intelligence for granted and underestimated them. Back when the deed was done, she should have paid those mercenaries immediately and made them leave the city. The only silver lining now was that she hadn't dragged the rest of the Knights into this. The lord seemed not to care for their meager wealth, or perhaps disdained to plunder it in such a crude fashion. Having calmed down, Sisi's mind raced, searching for a way out of the predicament. Deny that she had fabricated the rumors? That was the truth. She had never made up any part regarding the gods; those exaggerated rumors had all arisen through word-of-mouth distortions. Yet such quibbling would clearly be useless. The other party wouldn't play word games with her; as long as that mercenary confessed, any denial on her part would be meaningless. As for invoking the Alliance, that was even less viable. If the Camel Hump Kingdom came to view her as a spy directed by the Alliance, the outcome would likely be far worse. Not only could it hurt her favorability with the Administrator, but pulling such a move would turn an ordinary criminal case into a diplomatic dispute. The Camel Hump Kingdom, which had declared war without fighting, was already swaying like grass in the wind; if this flared up, they might very well tilt straight to the other side. Their faith was never that unshakeable to begin with... Wait, faith! Catching the thread of a breakthrough in an instant, Sisi's eyes lit up slightly, and her boiling thoughts rapidly cooled down. Recalling the contents of the two books she had read, she organized her thoughts for a moment, then looked up at the lord seated upon the stone throne. "Respected Castellan, the rumors in the city are indeed connected to me, but I do not believe I am guilty." Murmurs spread across the hall. The lord narrowed his eyes slightly, shifting to rest his chin on his left hand. "Oh?" Although such feeble quibbling could not alter her fate, he still wanted to hear what she had to say to exonerate herself. "Those rumors were indeed set in motion by me, but they are no falsehoods." She held her head high. She could feel the pairs of eyes fixed upon her—more than half malevolent, the rest mostly amused onlookers. Yet she felt not a trace of fear. She knew full well that showing weakness now, even a hint of hesitation, would mean all prior efforts were lost. Her composed expression did not waver in the slightest. Raising her voice, she infused a note of piety—or rather, righteous conviction—into her tone. That confidence came not only from the fact that her words were true, but even more because— "It is the will of the gods."