To the north of the county town, in the camp of the marauding bandits, the Eastern General, shrouded in thick black aura, waved his iron fan, directing the bandits to continue their assault.
"Strange… why are these native phantoms resisting so fiercely this time? It's just a small county town, nothing like a fortress—yet we can't break through! Could it be that this new Restorer has some special power that strengthens the native phantoms?"
"But these natives… they're not simply empowered; it feels like they're each an avatar of the Restorer!"
From a demon's perspective, this battle was filled with an eerie peculiarity. Powerful demons were notoriously difficult to kill entirely; they wandered between slices of history and even shared fragments of memories.
The lead demon in this assault, having fought Restorers before, remembered that their battles were usually straightforward and brutal. When demons attacked, Restorers would often use the phantoms of natives to aid in battle, but mostly, they relied on their own powers to eliminate demons single-handedly.
Traditionally, the outcome between a Restorer and demons was simple and direct: sheer force and skill. Native phantoms only served as minor distractions; no Restorer ever took them seriously.
Yet, this time things were different.
These native phantoms were fighting with an intensity that defied reason. Their battle skills were far beyond those of any typical native, and, disturbingly, they exhibited a fighting spirit that surpassed even the demons.
Demons were fearless and brutal, but often dim-witted. In contrast, these native phantoms not only fought fearlessly but remained immune to the demons' mental influence. They were even capable of strategy, calculating how many demons their lives could exchange.
And strangely enough, they appeared to use some of the Restorer's abilities. Though it was like a miniaturized version of the Restorer's power, the sheer number of them gathered together made them formidable.
The county town was barely holding on, its defenses full of cracks, and although the demons had breached two gates and several walls, the fight was still at a stalemate.
Moreover, many demons had penetrated deep into the city, suffering severe losses, yet they hadn't seen the Restorer himself. They'd only encountered a few possible suspects: a soldier on the walls with exceptional skills, a scholar exuding a righteous aura that injured many demons, and an assassin lurking near the marketplace.
Each of these figures had traits reminiscent of the Restorer, yet none seemed to match exactly.
"Continue the assault! Search every inch of this county town—I refuse to believe we can't find that Restorer!"
The Eastern General waved his fan, ordering the bandits to resume the relentless attack. But then, shouts and battle cries erupted from the rear of the bandit formation.
The general couldn't believe his eyes.
A team of around a thousand fighters had stormed out from the town, charging right into the flank of the bandit army. Though demons didn't fear death, they were soon overwhelmed by the chaos, and the formation began to crumble.
The attackers were nimble rangers led by Huoyun Ying, adept at hit-and-run tactics. The few bandit leaders with horses had mostly charged into the city and couldn't keep up with the swift rangers.
The Eastern General scrutinized the leader of these rangers with renewed suspicion. Could this leader be the elusive Restorer? This figure displayed sharp swordsmanship and remarkable agility, escaping dangerous situations time and again with ease.
"I'll deal with him myself," declared a monk wielding a massive naginata, stepping forward.
The general raised a hand to stop him. "No, you go continue the assault. These rangers are too nimble; you won't be able to catch them."
The monk nodded and joined the bandits, pressing the attack on the county town.
By now, the fight within the town had reached a fever pitch. The ground was littered with bandit corpses, particularly under the walls and in the gateways, where the players fought fiercely against the bandits, refusing to yield an inch.
Normally, the players should have been exhausted by now, their morale shattered. But under the dual influence of the Restorer's power and the scholar's righteous aura, their stamina far exceeded that of ordinary natives, and they had grown accustomed to the pain from their wounds, using it to fuel their fighting spirit.
The demons had anticipated easy prey, yet they encountered fighters whose morale simply couldn't be broken.
As for the demons who managed to penetrate deeper into the town, they found themselves stalked by relentless assassins, who emerged from the shadows with deadly precision, striking even when injured, making it impossible for the demons to advance.
The lone bandit leaders who rode into town found themselves swiftly targeted by elite squads of players, who swarmed them like hunters pouncing on wild prey.
As the last breath left the fallen leaders, the demons still couldn't understand. Why hadn't these native phantoms fled in terror when faced with overwhelming odds? Why had they fought with such fierce excitement instead?
Outside the walls, the Eastern General, orchestrating the assault, was losing control of the battlefield.
In its memory, demons often lost to Restorers, yet never like this. Usually, Restorers turned the tide through their sheer strength, taking on the entire demon horde and cutting them down single-handedly.
Yet here, the true Restorer had not even shown himself, and the demon army was already on the verge of defeat.