My Players Are So Fierce

At Post Nine, the major evacuation through Blackflame Mountain Pass was proceeding tensely.

On this site, including new recruits and warriors, there were roughly thirteen thousand, and if counting the 5,500 from the Goldenrod Kingdom and several thousand players, the total stationed soldiers at Blackflame Mountain Pass exceeded twenty thousand.

But now, only fewer than eight thousand could be gathered here.

The remaining ones were either unaccounted for after the Ratmen’s excavation collapsed the post earlier, or still resisting the Gnolls and Kobolds’ attacks on Post Eight.

Although Murphy learned through player forums that around a thousand NPCs trapped with Old Qin broke through the Ratmen’s tunnels, the current casualty rate still reached nearly 40%.

This was beyond mere flesh and bone damage.

In this era’s army, such casualties would definitely trigger a negative effect of military collapse.

The fact that Blackflame Mountain Pass could still hold was not only due to the Retinue Army’s fierce combat will but also because the Gnolls’ relentless pressure pushed them into a dire situation where not fighting meant death.

Now was not the time to collapse.

Any level of commander knew that choosing to give up at this moment would be the end.

The Earth Priests were still here, tensed, transporting supplies and personnel.

The Earth Walking Technique, a gift from Mother Earth, showed its extraordinary effect.

Meanwhile, the Retinue Army, led by their respective commanders, was retreating by land.

Those gravely damaged were to withdraw first, while the ones with intact formations stayed to prepare for the Gnolls that might charge in at any moment.

Clerical staff were making records and treating the injured, and a group of ‘carefree’ newbie players seized the chance to enthusiastically help with moving items and boosting goodwill.

Hmm, this group of ‘carefree’ guys was probably the last force on the post still maintaining a fairly good mindset and morale.

As long as there were tasks to do, rewards to earn, or monsters to kill, they would never be sad.

“There’s good news and bad news.”

The blood-soaked Lord Hether sat on Post Nine to catch her breath, feeling as if she were trapped in a nightmare from which she could never awaken.

Just then, Murphy’s voice rose behind her.

The Vampire Governor, clad in heavy armor, handed over a bottle of Flying Sky Wine, and Hether unceremoniously accepted and tilted it, fitting the bottle’s neck into her battle helmet in a strange fashion and gulped it down.

Like trying to expel the gloom in her heart this way.

After she finished drinking, Murphy handed over another bottle and then continued:

“A fifteen-thousand-strong army dispatched from the Winter Wolf Army at Klim Fortress is making its way through Baphomet Canyon.

They will assist us in fighting the Gnolls at Shadow Valley.

But that’s already the maximum troop limit Shadow Valley can support, as it isn’t a wealthy place with few usable battle positions.

So once your soldiers retreat there, they don’t need to engage in battle immediately; you will have a period for rest.”

“Well, and the bad news?”

Lord Hether asked, to which Murphy pointed toward Transylvania and said,

“You must keep retreating, enter my Maginot Line through the Polluted Swamp, and maintain your defense there until the Black Disaster is over, helping us fend off the Gnolls.

But my domain doesn’t allow a group of foreigners to roam freely, so you and all your soldiers must temporarily adopt Transylvanian nationality until the battle concludes.”

“You want me to pledge allegiance to you?”

Lord Hether snorted and said,

“Have you asked my elders?”

“It’s only temporary, Lord.

I must do this to incorporate you into the People’s Army’s combat system as quickly as possible.

I know that both from a scale and firepower perspective, my Maginot Line is hardly on par with Blackflame Mountain Pass, and assigning you to defend there might seem like an underutilization of your talents.

But I can assure you that beneath my defenses, there are no landmines planted by dusk, as in your current plight.”

Murphy was very gentlemanly.

But his words were blunt, almost piercing directly into Lord Hether’s core.

The meaning was clear if Lord Hether was unwilling to abandon the fight, she must temporarily comply with Murphy’s leadership, which meant transferring all command of the ensuing battles to Murphy.

“I…”

Lord Hether had her pride.

By age, Murphy was over a hundred years younger than her.

In terms of status, whether in Vampire Society or among the dwarves, Hether was genuinely of the upper echelon.

Lastly, in terms of strength, she was a Golden One, while Murphy was just an oddly peculiar Black Iron.

Convincing herself was difficult, but after seeing her once proud claim of years of resilience demolished within a day, all rebuttals were stuck in her throat.

Reality proved that she perhaps wasn’t a successful commander, and continuing to resist for face’s sake in today’s dire situation couldn’t lead to the unattainable victory.

So, she drank more than half a bottle of wine in one swig and gasped,

“Alright, I’ll temporarily obey your command, Governor.

Please issue orders; what would you have me do?”

“Of course, call for reinforcements!”

Murphy sat on the wood beside Hether, unabashedly saying,

“Request aid from Lord Paryen and the Blood Covenant Knights.

Before the Gnolls breach Shadow Valley and the Polluted Swamp, the Blood Covenant Knights must send at least twenty thousand soldiers, 5000 vampires, and a Golden One’s army to station at the Maginot Line.