I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 310 Marching and Death

The player's march was not smooth, but they did not encounter too many obstacles.

Night is the best armor for players.

The Minisian infantrymen who were trying to catch up with and stop the player were not doing well. More than half of them suffered from night blindness, so they had to carry torches when traveling, otherwise they would accidentally step into some kind of pit.

Because of this problem, the nearly three thousand Minisian soldiers marched at a slow pace, and the major general leading the army soon realized that they could not catch up with the enemy at such a speed.

So he sent out a small but more elite advance team to march quickly to pursue the enemy. Once they caught up, they tried to slow them down until the main force caught up.

Then, a group of guys started firing at the player's marching column from a distance.

This is also a lot of fun for Dorok.

Lead bullets whizzed by from afar, some grazing his head, others embedding themselves deeply in the tree trunks beside him with dull thuds. Dorok could even smell the gunpowder in the air, mixed with the earthy scent kicked up by the bullets... Oh, this gunpowder smell was caused by his own shooting.

Oh, then it's alright.

"Get down! Find cover!"

Someone in the group shouted.

"Are you an idiot? Keep marching!"

"What about the enemy's fire?"

"Is that a fire poker in your hand?"

"no……"

"Then shoot! If they shoot at you, you can shoot back at them and kill them. Then there won't be a problem."

As Dorok fired his fifth shot toward distant Mars, he turned to look at the two people arguing not far away. One of them was definitely an eighteen-year-old kid. He was so immature... Even though he wasn't much older than the latter, Dorok could still look down on him with a clear conscience.

The players' marching ranks were not orderly; they were scattered here and there, lying everywhere in the roadless wilderness, barely maintaining a rough formation.

So much so that when the Minisians launched their attack, only the players attacked on the east side could retaliate, while the players on the west side continued to walk forward leisurely, laughing and carefree.

Even though only a small number of players were firing, their firepower was so intense that the Miniese arquebusiers lined up in the distance had already abandoned their weapons and lay on the ground to avoid the hail of bullets.

Only a few brave individuals, or rather, mindless Minisians, still obeyed their superiors' orders, standing still and mechanically carrying out the "free fire" command.

Well, perhaps it was because it was too dark around them that they didn't see their companions fall, so they were fearless.

However, this fearlessness did not make the Miniese immune to lead bullets; their casualties were rising rapidly until the officer leading these Miniese musketeers ordered a retreat, away from the player.

Dorok and his companions ignored the enemy's retreat, as they continued marching along their planned route through the wilderness. The players at the front were clearing away the bushes blocking their path with machetes, while the players behind them trod on the path they had cleared.

Because they found the march to be very boring, at least half of the players were in an AFK state. When they were attacked, other players who were not AFK would open fire, and they would also open fire.

The scattered marching column did not stop because of the sudden attack; in fact, it maintained an extremely strange order.

So much so that when the repelled Miniese officer saw this through his binoculars, he was both surprised and shocked, finding it absurd.

What kind of army is this?
Why were they so calm? Was their military discipline more terrifying than death, allowing them to ignore the bullets fired by their own muskets and maintain their marching formation, firing back as they went?
Are they really human?!
Fear was slowly emerging from the depths of this Minisian's heart and gradually spreading.

But no matter how scared they were, they couldn't ignore the orders from their superiors, and the operation had to continue.

Soon, Dorokh, who was at the rear of the marching column, received a new warning.

"later!"

Someone called out behind Dorok. He turned around abruptly, only to see shadowy figures in the darkness, but no sparks... Had they gotten smarter?
Dorok's confusion didn't last long, as he heard the shriek of a sharp object flying at high speed tearing through the air, followed by a dull thud as it landed.

Arrows!?
Dorok's heart sank. He turned around but didn't dodge. With a "whoosh," an arrow struck his shoulder. With a snap, his shoulder jolted, and then Dorok saw an arrow broken in two leap up in front of him.

Aha, you didn't expect that, did you? I, Dorok, may be a musketeer, but I wear armor. I'm not afraid of your arrows!
Although it wasn't heavy armor, just a cloth armor, the upper body, especially the vital areas, was protected by armor plates. Sure enough, an arrow that landed on it was deflected.

In the darkness, the Miniese abandoned their easily exposed muskets and instead launched a silent attack with bows and arrows. Arrows rained down from behind, and the players' ranks finally fell into disarray. Several AFK players were hit and fell with a groan. The others quickly grabbed them and dragged them forward.

The sound of gunfire rang out quickly, but this time the counterattack was not very effective.

This time, the player didn't have the flintlock sparks to aim with the matchlock gun. In addition, the Minisian soldiers launching the attack were in a very scattered formation. When the player turned around to fire, he could only fire blindly into the dark bushes. Most of the bullets hit empty air. Occasionally, he could hear a muffled groan from afar, but he couldn't tell whether he had hit the target.

"Don't waste ammunition..."

Someone shouted at the top of his voice.

"Don't shoot randomly if you can't see anyone!"

"What are we supposed to do if we don't fire? Are we just supposed to take the beating without fighting back?"

"Counterattack, brothers! Let's launch a counter-offensive..."

"No, if we do that, we'll definitely fall behind, and the guys ahead won't wait for us."

"How about fixing it?"

"Do you have any landmines? If not, how about making a trap with grenades? If that doesn't work, barbed wire will do... You must have some iron spikes or something!" someone shouted, offering a solution. Dorok slapped his forehead... That's it!
He immediately crouched down and pulled out a pair of iron skewers he used for grilling meat from his tactical backpack. These skewers were normally used for grilling meat, but in battle, they could be stuck into the ground to create a trap that could bleed the enemy's feet.

"When setting the traps, spread out and remember to call out your positions!"

Dorok growled in a low voice in Chinese. He bent over and deftly stuck the iron skewers into the soft soil. Other players followed suit, and some even took out tripwire mines and quickly set them up in the dark.

Arrows continued to whiz in from behind, but the players at the rear of the marching column had found their rhythm. They split into two groups to provide cover, one group continuing to advance while the other set up traps and obstacles.

The players who were ahead and hadn't encountered any harassment didn't just watch the show. Although they didn't participate in the counterattack, they turned around and sent back the grenades, landmines, and other random small items that could be used as traps from their backpacks.

As a piercing scream echoed from the darkness behind him, Dorok was plunging the last iron skewer into the soft humus. The scream was short and sharp, like a pheasant whose neck had been stepped on, then forcibly cut off, leaving only a suppressed "hoarse" sound squeezed from deep in its throat.

"bingo!"

A player nearby exclaimed in a low voice, his voice tinged with excitement. Then a burst of gunfire erupted as other players, having heard the commotion, eagerly opened fire on the source of the sound.

After the gunshots, the screams ceased. It was unclear whether the Miniese soldier who had guessed the "treasure" was dead or too terrified to make a sound.

Dorothy thought he was probably the first one.

The screams would attract such a barrage of gunfire, which undoubtedly frightened the Minisians who were drawing their bows and firing arrows. They subconsciously slowed down their pursuit, and the density of arrows flying towards the player also decreased significantly. Dorok could feel that the sharp sound of arrows piercing the air had obviously decreased.

The trap worked!

As Dorok was thinking, a hundred meters behind him, a flash of light suddenly appeared. It was a Minisian soldier trying to dismantle a trap on the ground, but he had detonated a tripwire mine.

A fireball burst forth in the night, instantly engulfing several people nearby, their screams and wails echoing around them.

Dorok and the players nearby were overjoyed and fired two rounds of rapid-fire at the enemies exposed by the explosion, getting quite a few more kills.

This completely demoralized the Minisian advance team, dealing a huge blow to their morale.

The darkness after the explosion's flames died down was even thicker, as if it had been soaked through by the sound of the explosion and the dying screams.

The scattered Minisian soldiers looked around, their faces obscured, yet their fear palpable. None dared to take another step. The ground beneath their feet was no longer a solid foundation, but a demonic realm lurking with countless iron spikes that would devour men's feet and deadly explosives.

The air was thick with the smells of gunpowder, blood, and the stench of ruptured entrails, mixed with a chilling atmosphere of "despair."

As the enemy gradually receded into the distance, the lieutenant standing beside a corpse couldn't utter a single command. His face was ashen, the same color as the dead man on the ground.

The lieutenant wanted to order his soldiers to continue the advance and the attack, but his instincts told him that this was not a good idea.
He wanted to retreat, but reason prevailed at that moment, warning him that such an order was not something a low-ranking officer like himself could give. Acting arbitrarily would only lead to a court-martial.

The lieutenant's Adam's apple bobbed, and sweat trickled down his temples. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. In the darkness, the soldiers' terrified gasps rose and fell, like a pack of cornered beasts driven to the brink of despair.

"Sir, what do we do now?"

A sergeant following behind him, his face covered in blood, asked tremblingly, "In the explosion just now, shrapnel hit my face. Fortunately, the shrapnel was a bit big and not very sharp. It only cut my skin and didn't go deep into the bone."

The lieutenant's lips moved, but no sound came out. His gaze swept over the mangled corpse on the ground... It was his messenger, a lively young man just ten minutes ago. Now, only a tattered torso and half a face frozen in terror remained.

"attack."

These two words were almost squeezed out from between the teeth.

"Maintain vigilance... Order soldiers to prioritize dismantling traps while maintaining fire on the enemy without ceasing."

The sergeant suddenly realized the brilliance of the lieutenant's order. Continuing to advance was definitely not an option, and retreating was even worse. The officer behind him had not given such an order. If he retreated without authorization, he would be disobeying military orders and would be considered a deserter.

So, as the sergeant turned around and carefully whispered the order, the Minisian soldiers felt as if they had been granted a pardon. They stood still, some cautiously feeling their way along the ground, others drawing their crossbows and firing arrows into the distance, regardless of whether they could reach the enemy.

In short, with everyone working together to cover up the situation, and amidst the faint metallic clanging sounds carried by the night breeze, the enemy's troops quickly disappeared into the distance.

The lieutenant stood there, worrying about his fate while also realizing a terrible truth.

This pursuit was doomed to failure from the start. These mysterious enemies were not only well-equipped and tactically unpredictable, but more importantly, they didn't think like a normal army; they lacked fear and were even indifferent to death…

Without the harassment from the Minieses, the players who continued their march felt a bit lonely and bored, to the point that as they walked, Dorok could hear his companions talking about it.

"Hey guys, I'm getting a little bored..."

"What's wrong? You want to play cards? How about Dou Dizhu? I have a deck of cards here."

"Hey, I didn't mean playing cards, I meant fighting monsters... How about we go back a bit, take out the remaining monsters, and then go back to catch up with the group? I think we should be able to make it."

"Come on, go if you want, I have no intention of going."

Dorok scoffed, thinking the players discussing this were a bit foolish. If they really turned back, they would be losing the big picture for a small gain.

Small-scale skirmishes are nothing compared to the thrill of conquering an entire city.

Moreover, the game is so hardcore that the player character's stamina is not unlimited. Even if the player has enough energy, the stamina bar is still limited. It is not uncommon for the character to die from exhaustion while playing.

Traveling is tiring enough, and even players will consume half of their stamina bar after walking all night. Once you arrive at your destination, there will definitely be no time to rest, and you will have to continue fighting. At this time, the remaining half of the stamina bar is crucial.

Now you've used up half your energy on the way here, how are you going to fight the battles to come?
(End of this chapter)