"Josen!"
"How could you—"
The young militia members glared angrily at their comrade. The young man controlled by the corpse mage was pale and trembling, his head hung low in shame and fear. But he didn't want to die, did he?
Freya felt as though her heart might stop. Instinctively, she reached for her sword. However, the corpse mage quickly dissuaded her with a sudden flare of green light in its eye sockets. The young man's arm exploded like a balloon, blood and gore splattering everywhere. With a scream, he crumpled to the ground, curling up in agony.
"Ah, big sister, please save me—!"
Josen writhed on the ground like a bloody mess, howling in despair. The horrific scene made several people turn away and vomit. The girl with the long ponytail turned pale and nearly collapsed.
"Human girl, you'd better not act rashly," the corpse mage warned in a shrill voice, its cold gaze sweeping over everyone present.
It immediately dismissed the militia as insignificant—mere insects.
The green light in the corpse mage's eye sockets dimmed with disappointment. Its mission was to locate and eliminate the escaped human scout, not to get entangled with these insignificant pests.
Freya's mind was blank, but she fought through a wave of dizziness, striving to think of a way out of this dire situation. She still remembered that she was the leader of this group and couldn't show weakness.
The girl beside Roman had already fainted, and the merchant's daughter had to support her.
Lin Fei felt Roman's hand gripping his sleeve tightly—a gesture of reliance and trust. He had also helped the ponytailed militia captain stay on her feet, but her resilience had exceeded his expectations.
Regardless, he knew that the others needed some reassurance to avoid psychological collapse.
A girl raised in peacetime would struggle to cope with such a brutal scene, but Elruin was a war-torn nation where most young people were accustomed to such harsh realities.
"Freya," Lin Fei said weakly.
The girl seemed momentarily stunned before snapping back to attention. She took a deep breath and began to calm down with Lin Fei's help. Lin Fei noticed her hand on the sword hilt had relaxed considerably and couldn't help but nod in approval.
Such composure was exceptional; few could remain calm at the edge of life and death. Although he couldn't understand why he appeared so calm himself—perhaps having experienced both transmigration and life-or-death tests had made his mindset as still as water.
But at least that was a good thing.
He continued in a barely audible voice, "Do you remember what I said about preparing for the worst?"
Freya blinked, then nodded slightly.
"Do you still have the strength to fight?"
"Yes—"
The barely perceptible response reassured him. He rubbed the cool Wind Rune ring with his thumb—its response indicated that the charging was only halfway complete.
Three hours was far too slow compared to the ten-minute recharge intervals in the game. However, half the energy would suffice; although it couldn't create a complete wind blast, it could still summon a strong gust.
At least he was prepared for the worst; there couldn't be anything worse.
Meanwhile, the corpse mage confirmed that there were no other ambushes. Without a glance at the pitiable creature groaning at its feet, it raised its skeletal arm:
"Soldiers, kill them all—"
As the harsh, dry voice sounded, four skeletal soldiers armed with sharp swords and clad in black chainmail emerged from the mist. They creaked and clanked as they advanced slowly towards Freya and her group.
Earlier, Freya's team might have considered fighting back against these cold, unfeeling monsters, but not now. The young men, once full of confidence, were now paralyzed by the enemy's cold-bloodedness and the looming aura of death. Their remaining courage was crushed under the suffocating atmosphere, leaving them powerless to resist.
They could only retreat step by step, faces pale, towards a dead end, frantically attempting to draw their swords—though their hesitation left their combat effectiveness in doubt.
The forest was filled only with the sound of shallow breathing.
Seeing the pale faces of the young men, the corpse mage couldn't help but sneer from its wind-blown jaw.
Its green fire flickered in satisfaction at the terror it inflicted.
Indeed, human fear was their greatest enemy—weak, fleeting, and easily exploited by useless emotions. In contrast, the undead inherently overcame these flaws. Each of them could be the finest soldier, especially the lower-tier undead—requiring no thought, only blind obedience.
Compared to humans, even the trained militia often acted like helpless children on the battlefield. Such weak creatures had no place in this world.
It harbored a deep-seated contempt: yes, Madara will prevail—
But just then, the corpse mage heard an unexpected voice: "—Leave it to me." It was a young man's voice, calm, steady, and filled with confidence.
The corpse mage felt a faint tremor in its soul fire—a bad omen. It quickly turned its head warily.
What met its empty gaze was a gleaming ring.
The ring was on the index finger of the injured militia man, someone the corpse mage had never paid much attention to—just a half-dead human, not worth noting?
Pretending to be severely wounded might deceive others, but it couldn't fool the undead. These cold-blooded creatures from the graves could see the life fire of a living being, and the weak, dim flame on Lin Fei's body was certainly not a disguise.
It was indeed a seriously injured individual.
But the real threat came from the ring on his hand, a magic ring. The green flame in the corpse mage's eyes dimmed as it almost sensed a deadly aura accumulating in the air.
It recognized the scent. Its master had taught it some black magic and exposed it to certain fakes. Judging from the aura emanating from it, it was at least a level 20 magic ring.
A genuine wizard's item—how did it end up in the hands of an ordinary person?
The corpse mage's expression turned to one of both fear and greed.
"Undead soldiers, get that thing for me—" It raised its bone staff and screamed.
But Lin Fei raised his right hand, expelling the word with all his remaining strength—or more like squeezing out the air left in his lungs. As the young man fell back again, drenched in sweat.
The space expanded and then rapidly contracted—
When it snapped back to its original state, a deafening, piercing scream of chaotic air filled the forest.
The wind shot like straight arrows towards the corpse mage and its skeletal soldiers. Despite their attempts to shield themselves with their dry arms, the turbulence sliced through their hollow ribcages, creating whirlwinds that pushed them to one side.
No actual harm was done, but the restraining effect was evident.
"Freya!" Lin Fei called out.
The girl responded by drawing her longsword, its metallic ringing clear as her long ponytail fluttered in the wind—
To Lin Fei's surprise, this relatively inexperienced militia leader didn't charge recklessly but instead turned and commanded the others: "Markmi, Essen! What are you waiting for? Buccé's militia, third squad, follow me!"
Courage can sometimes be like a signal; at the brink of death, a single word or hint can unleash boundless strength.
But there is a condition: calmness.
A person's calmness can influence others, as seen now. Under Freya's guidance, the young militiamen hesitated but ultimately realized—this was the best chance and their only chance to survive.
The sudden gust of wind forced the skeletal soldiers and the corpse mage to retreat step by step, leaving them momentarily preoccupied.
This allowed the young men to muster their courage again, and with the clanging sound of unsheathed swords, their tactical training seemed to return to their bodies.
"Markmi, cover me."
"Damn monsters, it's your turn now…"
"Take down that black mage first—!"
"That's a corpse mage."
"Phenis, get behind me."
They began to attempt a counterattack.
But Lin Fei watched the chaotic scene with concern, fearing that a rash move could ruin everything. He couldn't help but calmly remind them from the rear: "Remember to stay calm, everyone! Only by remaining composed can we fight effectively—!"
In the Sword of Amber, he had seen many greenhorns just like these young men.
Passion is good, but it shouldn't cloud one's mind.
He had to recite the militia's combat orders, which everyone present had memorized. Yet, in the heat of battle, few could recall these dry but invaluable lessons.
Charlotte was an exception.
Lin Fei had all the memories of Charlotte's final battle. For a new recruit, his performance was exceptional. Even as a seasoned warrior, Lin Fei had to admit that Charlotte had an extraordinary talent for swordsmanship—though it was unfortunate that he encountered a battle at the wrong time.
Meanwhile, Lin Fei's reminder had indeed calmed the young men. But that wasn't enough; Lin Fei knew they needed an advantage to solidify their confidence, or the morale built up in a short time could easily collapse.
The wind had weakened somewhat.
The skeletal soldiers, rattling in their chainmail, prepared to counterattack. They tried to regain their balance, but Lin Fei's voice had already guided Buccé's militia to alter their tactics:
"Listen up, these low-level soldiers from Madara lack intelligence and move slowly. Their biggest weakness is turning. Move left along the direction they're holding their swords, there's a blind spot where you can attack safely…"
"Markmi, you and Essen, attack from the left and right, do you know how to cover? Yes, attract the attention of that skeleton, just like that."
Lin Fei lay half-reclined on a rock, closely observing the battlefield and pointing out the next steps. His voice seemed to carry a special power that compelled others to trust him—that was the strength of confidence: calm and steady, making people instinctively rely on him in moments of uncertainty.
Buccé's militia soon began to see results. First, Aik, guided by Lin Fei's advice, took a sword wound to his thigh but managed to sever a skeletal soldier's shinbone. Then his partner, Phenis, thrust his sword through the skeleton's skull.
At the moment the sword pierced the skull, the cold creature fell apart with a clatter, its soul fire flickering briefly before dimming.
A bit of golden light flew out from the shattered bones and entered Lin Fei's chest.
Lin Fei was momentarily stunned. Unlike before, this time he clearly felt something unusual—experience points. He suddenly realized this, but before he could verify it, he heard the victorious young militia members exclaiming excitedly.
"Oh my god, I did it!" Aik shouted in disbelief, pressing his bleeding wound. "Charlotte, how did you know all this?"
Lin Fei smiled slightly. The knowledge he shared was derived from countless battles and lessons learned in the game, each piece of advice imbued with deep and valuable insights gained through numerous experiences.
Charlotte had also learned some of these tactics during militia training, but to Lin Fei, they seemed too shallow. If those lessons improved his battle ability by 10%, his own knowledge likely increased it by half or even more.
From the year 375 to the Second Era, Lin Fei's extensive experience fighting Madara had given him an intimate understanding of their lowest skeleton soldiers to the highest liches, bone dragons, and even vampire lords.
Regarding knowledge of this dark nation, few in Elruin could match him, as relations between Madara and the light world had not yet escalated as they would in later years.
Conflicts and confrontations were not as frequent—
Of course, this knowledge was one of Lin Fei's greatest assets in this world. Relying on his familiarity with it, he had the confidence to continue forward and gradually return to his former level.
But for now, he needed to finish the task at hand. He couldn't be sure whether the earlier gust of wind had drawn unwanted attention. For safety's sake, the battle needed to be resolved.
With that thought, his gaze turned to the corpse mage.
This was a formidable foe.