Chapter 316: A Sudden Headshot

Chapter 316: Chapter 316: A Sudden Headshot

High above, the glowing formations on the Underground City’s vaulted ceiling were slowly changing color with the passage of time.

The once-daybright white light slowly dimmed, taking on an orange-red hue.

It was a simulated dusk.

The entire camp was not in the state of chaos one might have expected.

Quite the opposite.

It was unnervingly quiet.

When a person’s high hopes are shattered in an instant, the dizzying fall from the clouds into an abyss plunges them into a state of numbness.

In other words, resignation.

On a street corner at the edge of the camp,

An old mercenary with graying hair and a face covered in scars was struggling to write something on a piece of parchment by the twilight’s fading glow.

His large hands looked especially clumsy now.

After he finished,

The old mercenary carefully folded the parchment and stuffed it into a worn-out envelope.

Next, he fumbled for a good while in the cloth pouch at his waist, poured all of the twenty-odd faintly glowing Demon Crystals inside into the envelope, and finally sealed it shut with his own spit.

Once he had done all this,

He pushed himself to his feet and crossed the street, stopping a young Wanderer who was known as the most agile member of their group.

"Hey, kid."

The scars on the old mercenary’s face contorted into an ugly smile.

"Your stealth skills are the best in our group."

He paused, his tone turning somewhat pleading.

"If... and I’m just saying if..."

"When the deadline hits tomorrow, if you can find a way to slip out of the Underground City alive... please, do me a favor and deliver this letter to the Purple Rose Inn in Gray Rock Town."

The old mercenary patted the thick envelope.

"There are more than twenty Demon Crystals inside. It’s everything I have left. You can take half as payment for the trouble."

"The other half, please give to my daughter. She works as a helper at the inn. Tell her... her old man might not be able to make it back for her birthday this time."

The young Wanderer didn’t say a word.

He looked deeply at the old mercenary.

Then, still in silence, he took the envelope, carefully tucked it into the innermost pocket of his Leather Armor, and gave the old mercenary a firm nod.

Similar scenes were playing out all over the street.

Some were unstrapping their most valuable items and forcing them upon companions with better skills and higher chances of survival, demanding with red-rimmed eyes that they deliver their last words to their families back home.

Other Adventurers seemed to have resigned themselves to their fate completely.

They took out the expensive tobacco they normally couldn’t bear to smoke, a few of them leaning against a wall, borrowing a light from one another.

Amidst the curling smoke, they chatted idly about which tavern had the prettiest barmaids and which sold cheap ale with the least water in it.

This was their way of calmly accepting their fate: to be swallowed by the Demon Tide tomorrow.

Meanwhile, on the command platform in the very center of the camp,

Felix sat all alone on a wooden chair.

His hands were clasped so tightly that his nails dug deep into the flesh of their backs, yet he seemed to feel no pain.

He just sat there, silently watching the scenes unfolding on the street below.

He saw Thomas in the crowd.

The same young Knight who, just last night at the victory feast, had flushed and loudly declared that he was going home to get married.

But now, that once-vibrant young Knight was simply clutching his Cross Longsword.

His eyes were vacant as he stared up at the dim, man-made sky, silent as a statue.

Each scene of final parting below was like a saw dragging back and forth across Felix’s heart, cutting into him until he could barely breathe.

’I’m sorry, everyone...’

Felix cried out in silent agony.

For some time now,

He had watched with his own eyes as Lance built the Red Dragon United Strategy Team from a scattered mob into a cohesive force, one that radiated astonishing unity and burgeoning hope.

He had truly come to see this joint team as a cause worth fighting for.

That feeling of wholehearted devotion,

It was more liberating than his time in the Golden Lion Cross Order, where he had to lead those noble brats on daily missions.

In the Golden Lion Cross, everything revolved around the intricate politics and family backgrounds of the nobility.

Even though he was a captain in the Golden Lion Cross,

Many of the high-born members under his command simply ignored his orders behind his back.

To those nobles just looking to gild their reputations, the Golden Lion Cross Order was nothing more than a shiny stepping stone for their careers. There was no sense of collective honor there at all.

But the Red Dragon United Strategy Team was completely different.

Here, regardless of birth or station, everyone fought desperately for the same goal: survival.

It was a bastion they had poured their heart and soul into building.

But now.

He had ruined it all!

Felix shouldered all the blame.

’If... if only I’d been more cautious when we were advancing.’

’If only I’d spotted that Half-Elf sooner...’

’Maybe... that area wouldn’t have collapsed?’

’These ten thousand people should be in the plaza right now, celebrating their victory.’

’Instead of lining up to write their last words to the Death God...’

"Felix."

Just as Felix was sinking into a deep, inescapable pit of self-recrimination,

Julius climbed onto the platform and sat down beside him.

He held out a leather waterskin filled with fresh water.

"This isn’t your fault."

Julius sighed, looking down at the camp, his tone gentle and reassuring.

"No one could have predicted that those lunatics from the Crimson Bell of Death would be carrying Alchemy Bombs with that much power, or that they’d be deranged enough to blow up an entire section just to take everyone down with them."

"Under the circumstances, you kept casualties to a minimum and got everyone back alive."

Felix took the waterskin but didn’t unstop it to drink.

He clutched it with both hands and gave a bitter, self-mocking smile.

"Got them back alive?"

"And for what? So we can all be trapped in this sealed camp, waiting to die together?"

Felix turned to face Julius.

"Julius, do you know what hurts the most right now?"

"It’s them..."

Felix gestured toward the numb Adventurers below.

"It’s that when they found out my failure in my assigned area is what doomed us all..."

"Not a single one of them has come up to curse me."

"Not one has thrown a rock at me to vent their rage!"

"The more calmly they accept this, the more I feel... like an unforgivable sinner!"

Seeing the proud young noble so fragile,

Julius sighed. He reached out and gently patted Felix’s shoulder, at a loss for comforting words.

Just then,

The sound of heavy, powerful, steel-shod footsteps, accompanied by the clang of scraping metal, approached from behind the platform.

It was Viters of the Iron Throne.

He, too, had come up to the platform.

His team had only just returned to camp from their clearing zone after hearing news of the collapse.

Viters was carrying a thick rope, from which hung several unopened bottles of potent Dwarven spirits.

The moment he set foot on the platform, he saw Felix’s pathetic, self-flagellating state.

"I’m sorry, you saw..."

Felix said, his head bowed and his voice hoarse.

Hearing this,

Viters’s brows instantly furrowed.

Unlike Julius, he didn’t sit down to offer gentle words of comfort.

Instead, he strode forward purposefully, stopping directly in front of Felix.

Then,

to Julius’s utter horror,

Viters raised one of the bottles of Dwarven spirits.

Without a moment’s hesitation,

He smashed it down hard on Felix’s bowed head!