"Surrender your body to instinct," Li Changzhou pondered this phrase.

Yang Qinglan carelessly tapped her slim shoulder with her Ruyi.

As the Deadly Flame and the madmen returned, the auspicious clouds continued their spring flight. Li Qianxia looked back—one last glance; those slaves who had lost their freedom were forever liberated.

In the face of death, all were equal; no one could enslave another...perhaps.

◇

The tracer rounds from the anti-aircraft guns were like strings of bright dots in the night sky.

The explosions were far, far away, so despite the sky being filled with these points of light, the world remained serene and quiet.

Overuse of the signal flare's muscles resulted in a burning pain.

"Be careful."

His heart skipped a beat, but neither his body nor his spirit could react promptly, both numbed beyond immediate response.

"Thud! Thud!" The Special Warfare Bureau's 'Door Plate' appeared by his side, its shield bristling with arrows.

The signal flare raised his hand, thrusting his spear out and skewering a flower that was twisting and deforming into a human shape.

Another one.

He turned around and saw 'Door Plate' raising the shield, roaring as he charged forward, brutally pressing the opponent beneath the shield.

The adversary was very agile, bracing against the "clear space" on the shield where there were no arrows with root-like limbs.

Signal flare took a step forward, then halted. Three, no, four arrows shot out from the shadows.

He blocked two of them, then rushed to shield 'Door Plate,' stopping one, while another arrow solidly pierced through 'Door Plate's' shield arm.

The power behind the arrows was frightening. Each arrow he swatted away felt like catching a heavy hammer swung by hand.

And there was poison on them.

Tree poison—arrows that acted like seeds, spreading through the victims' bodies upon impact.

"Door Plate!"

'Door Plate,' with his shoulder against the shield, freed a hand to pull out the arrow, using it as a weapon to stab into the struggling Forest Elder pinned beneath.

The struggle's force suddenly increased, nearly flipping 'Door Plate' over, but then it rapidly weakened, dwindling until it vanished.

"Your arm," said the signal flare, squatting beside the gasping 'Door Plate.'

He could feel it—the Forest Elders, their bodies and spirits numbed by battle, watching his back.

Insane pressure.

Signal flare drew his dagger and chopped off 'Door Plate's' right arm. Blood sprayed out, and the hand and forearm dropped to the ground.

He grabbed at the three roots attempting to burrow into the amputated stump, yanking them out violently.

A flower behind the signal flare morphed, an arrow aimed at them, 'Door Plate's' eyes bloodshot with pain, filled with madness and brutality.

The flower ceased morphing, and the Forest Elder abandoned the attack. Now only four of them remained, with 'Spring' in enemy hands—they could not die, they had to win.

To retrieve the Divine Artifact!

Tonight's moonlight was bright, and no matter the flowers' color by day, at this time they were all tinged silver-white.

The night breeze swept by, like waves of moonlight.

Every flower watched the two men.

The signal flare dropped the snake-like twisting roots and reached for his pocket, remembering halfway that the medicine had long been used up.

He reached out to help 'Door Plate': "Can you still move?"

'Door Plate's' intact left hand pushed him away.

"Go!" His voice still carried the pain of having lost an arm.

Signal flare felt something spherical land in his hand.

"Run," 'Door Plate's' voice grew calmer, slightly out of breath, "Leave this to me."

"How could I possibly get away by myself?!" Even with a numb brain, the signal flare knew this to be true.

"I will hold them off with all my might."

"You don't even know where they are!"

'Door Plate' picked up his own right hand and threw it away, dodging a flower with a twist of the waist.

"Go." 'Door Plate' wasn't watching the flowers, his gaze fixed on the signal flare, "If you run fast enough, you might still bring back help to save me."

His good left hand raised the shield again.

"Alright, wait for me to come back!"

Both men got up at the same time. Signal flare stood up; 'Door Plate' did not. He turned his head and saw something root-like writhing beneath 'Door Plate's' neck skin.

One more!

Just one, enough to immobilize, but not to be lethal.

"Forget about me! Go!" 'Door Plate' roared in agony.

Amidst the sea of flowers, four blossoms morphed simultaneously, four arrows aimed at them.

"Clang! Clang!" After deflecting two arrows, the signal flare stumbled, his arm numb.

The strength of the arrows had decreased significantly. If he had even a tenth of his strength, he could...

It was those weak arrows that expelled all the air from his lungs, nearly making him fall.

The other two arrows left the bowstring.

'Door Plate' struggled to swing his shield, using his body weight to bring down the two arrows.

"Run." He was completely frozen there, his voice devoid of any fear.

The Signal Light glanced at the 'Door Plate', which could no longer move.

For the next four hours, he kept running.

Both sides were like wolves and people starved to the extreme—whichever fell first would become the food of the other.

He wasn't far from the battlefield; although the tracers from the anti-aircraft guns were gone, he could hear the intense sound of gunfire.

Just getting there would mean the mission was complete.

Survive, return to Earth, and continue to follow the Signal Light.

The four Forest Person Elders had long lost the strength to draw their bows and were holding their arrows like daggers in their hands, following behind him.

The Signal Light slowly passed a spear across his face, his sense of pain numbly responding. He became somewhat sober, knowing the enemy wouldn't let him cover this last stretch of road without a fight.

The Forest People closed in.

The Signal Light gripped the bloody spear in his hand.

"Ha... Ha..." They exchanged breathless looks.

The Signal Light had no anger, no fear;

The Forest People had no anger, no hatred, no resentment either;

They were indifferent, uncaring—the only ones to leave this place alive would be one side or the other.

"Kill!" The Forest People charged.

Just then, on the thirteenth day, the sun crawled above the horizon.

Dew splashed, and the Signal Light wondered how many of them he could fight off to the death... Two? One? Perhaps not even one.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Four shots rang out, and the Forest People exploded into wood chips. 'Aman', dressed in a black sports vest and matching shorts, with a dark red scarf wrapped around her neck, stood on the branches of a tree with technology pistols that had only a small section of the energy tank left.

'Street Dance Girl', 'Fiery Fire Phoenix', 'Childhood Village' were standing on other branches.

They were all covered in blood, their clothes torn and tattered, their tired eyes looking at the Signal Light before them.

"Where are the others?" Aman asked the Signal Light, her voice hoarse.

"..."

Aman looked behind the Signal Light, where the Door Plate lay on his back, his right hand severed from the forearm, with snake-like creatures moving across his skin.

"What happened to him?" Aman asked.

"The Signal Light?"

"Traffic Light?!"

The Signal Light fell straight down, his left hand supporting the Door Plate, tightly clutching the "Spring," the fresh blood sticking the weapon to his right hand.

◇

The Signal Light opened his eyes to find himself lying in a field hospital of the Special Warfare Bureau's marching tent. This equipment, once deployed, was like a small base.

A sound similar to an apple being bitten echoed near his ear.

"Awake?"

He turned to look, and the Door Plate was biting into an overly regular cylindrical fruit—resembling an insulated cup—lying on another bed, his severed right arm wrapped in a medical bandage.

Noticing his gaze, the Door Plate raised his bandaged right arm and said, "Once we get back, they can help it grow back."

The Signal Light's head was still a bit dizzy, and he didn't speak.

"Thank you," the Door Plate added.

"...How's the situation? What day is it?" The Signal Light became slightly more alert.

"The thirteenth day, midday, just past lunchtime," the Door Plate replied, biting the fruit and tossing another one to him with his left hand.

The Signal Light caught it, the fruit was the size of a fist with bumpy toadskin-like growths that looked disgusting but smelled delicious.

The Door Plate removed the fruit from his mouth and took another bite:

"Everyone's accounted for, there are 28 left. The only group without any casualties is Li Changzhou's, even the previously unaccounted dwarf capuchins survived."

79, no, including the dwarf capuchins, a total of eighty players, and now only 28 remained after a devastating thirteen days.

"Any news about the Crown?" the Signal Light asked.

"A so-called piece of news," the Door Plate said, discarding the core and picking fruit flesh from between his teeth, "'Reconnaissance Soldier' found the Central King's daughter, but it's not certain whether she has the Crown."

The Signal Light stood up, ready to leave the tent.

"I'd advise against going out."

The Signal Light's hand was already touching the curtain. The tent was very well insulated, so much so that even standing next to the entrance, he couldn't hear anything from the outside.

"What's going on?" he asked.

The Door Plate leaned back comfortably, full and ready to sleep, and asked, "Who do you think is suitable to wear the Crown?"

"Is that important?"

"More important than your life, my life, everyone's lives."

"An internal conflict?"

"Pah!" the Door Plate spat out the fruit flesh from between his teeth.

"...What did I barely survive for yesterday?"

"At least the two of us survived."

The Signal Light sat back on the hospital bed, his expression empty, biting into the fruit in his hand, which surprisingly oozed a white substance like that of a toad's.

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