The whole nation is trying to survive on the cable car; I'm choosing one of three options at ea

The battlefield fell silent for a moment.

The silence wasn't the relief after a battle, but rather the suffocating pressure before a storm, a feeling that something was approaching. No one cheered, no one celebrated, and no one even spoke.

The soldiers gripped their guns, fingers on the triggers, afraid to let go; the survivors held their weapons, hands trembling, afraid to put them down; the guild leaders stood at the front of the crowd, their eyes fixed on the thick darkness deep in the forest, their pupils reflecting the dust floating in the beams of their flashlights.

Proxiu stood beside the corpse of Minotaur Sauta, bending down to pick up its battle axe. The blade was stained with dark red blood and bits of flesh, and the handle was wrapped with a worn leather rope; it was heavy, feeling like a piece of iron in his hand. A slight smile played on his lips as he slung the battle axe over his shoulder, then turned to look in Su Mu's direction.

"Su Mu, would you like to give it a try?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it was penetrating enough for everyone present to hear.

His tone was laced with obvious sarcasm and smugness, as if to say... "See? I killed these two monsters, and these two weapons are my spoils. You did nothing. What kind of strongman are you?"

Su Mu leaned against the shade of the tree trunk, arms crossed, looking at Proxiu.

His expression was as calm as a stagnant pool, but his eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness... not golden, but a darker, almost imperceptible light, as if ignited by something, ready to burst forth at any moment. A spear leaned against the tree trunk beside him, its tip embedded in the fallen leaves, not pulled out. He neither moved nor spoke.

People around started talking about it.

"Proxiu is incredibly strong; he killed the Lightning Goblin all by himself!"

"What about Su Mu? He didn't lift a finger the whole time."

"Zhao Derong, a C-level player, is charging ahead, but what about Su Mu?"

"Commander Bai misjudged him; this kind of person is not worth taking seriously at all."

"Maybe they're just conserving their strength?"

"Conserve strength? Conserve what strength? His teammates are fighting desperately, and he's just watching. Is that what you call conserving strength?"

"Forget it, stop talking. They have powerful backers; we can't afford to offend them."

Su Mu heard those words. He tapped his fingers lightly on his spear, but he didn't move.

Lin Xiaohe gripped the dagger tightly, her knuckles turning white. Her lips moved, as if she wanted to say something, but she said nothing. She trusted Su Mu, believed he had his reasons. No matter what others said, she would not waver.

She watched Su Mu's retreating figure, his long spear leaning against the tree trunk, and his eyes gleaming faintly in the darkness. She didn't know what he was waiting for, but she knew that what he was waiting for was far more terrifying than the Thunder Goblin or the Minotaur King Sauta.

Lin Yuwei also heard those words. She was bandaging Zhao Derong's wound when she heard the discussion, and her fingers paused for a moment. She looked up at Su Mu's direction, then lowered her head to continue bandaging.

Her brow furrowed slightly, not out of worry, but because she was thinking... these people have no idea how strong Su Mu is. Once they find out, they won't be laughing anymore.

Chen Jun stood behind the big tree, a bulging backpack on his back and a bag in his hand. He heard the whispers and saw Su Mu's reaction. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he said nothing. He knew Su Mu's strength and his personality; Su Mu wouldn't change his plans because of a few words from others.

He was just waiting, waiting for something worth his time to appear.

Deep in the dense forest, the hazy gray light grew brighter and closer.

The stench in the air grew stronger, so strong it was nauseating. Su Mu pulled out a towel from his backpack, wet it, and held it to his nose. Lin Xiaohe and Lin Yuwei did the same. Chen Jun pulled out a mask from his backpack and put it on, this time without taking it off.

The ground began to shake.

It wasn't the heavy, rhythmic tremor of the Minotaur, but a more violent, irregular tremor, like something churning underground. Gravel bounced across the ground, fallen leaves were shaken into the air, and firewood in the fire was shaken out.

The beams of flashlight beams swept across the depths of the dense forest, and then at the end of the beams, all the flashlights simultaneously went out. Not because they ran out of power, but because the light was absorbed by something.

Darkness, pure, thick, ink-like darkness, surged from the depths of the dense forest, engulfing everything. The firelight flickered in the darkness like a candle in the wind, threatening to go out at any moment.

People cannot see each other in the dark; they can only hear breathing, heartbeats, and a low, deep sound, as if something is breathing.

At this moment, the soldiers gripped their guns, their fingers on the triggers, afraid to let go; the survivors held their weapons, their hands trembling, afraid to put them down; the guild leaders stood at the front of the crowd, their eyes fixed on the thick darkness deep in the forest, their pupils reflecting the dust floating in the beams of their flashlights.

Then, she came out.

It's not about rushing out of the darkness, but about walking out of the darkness.

Their pace was neither too fast nor too slow, as if they were strolling in their own garden.

Her long, ice-blue dress trailed on the ground, its hem untouched by a single leaf or speck of dust, as if an unseen hand were holding it up for her. Her long hair was ice-blue and translucent, like slender ice crystals that reflected a chilling light in the firelight.

Her skin was so white it was almost translucent, revealing fine, cracked blood vessels beneath. Her features were so exquisitely crafted that they seemed not to have been sculpted by a human, but rather as if ice and snow had solidified into a human form in some deserted corner.

Her eyes were ice blue, with vertical pupils, like a cat's eyes or a snake's eyes. They were devoid of warmth and emotion, only possessing a cold indifference, as if she were looking at a group of ants.

She held a staff in her hand, ice-blue in color, with a fist-sized, constantly spinning ice crystal embedded at its tip. With each rotation of the ice crystal, the temperature in the air dropped by one degree.

She is not alone.

To her right, another figure walked out side by side.

The fiery red dress contrasted sharply with the icy blue dress, like two flames burning in the darkness. Her long hair was fiery red, not dyed, but truly burning, flames spreading from the roots to the tips, dancing in the night wind, yet her hair was not charred, and her scalp was not burned.

Her skin glowed with a faint reddish light, as if something was burning inside her, baking her skin into a translucent amber color from the inside out.

Her features were as exquisite as the Ice Witch's, but her temperament was completely different... one was cold, the other was warm; one was still, the other was dynamic. Her eyes were fiery red, and her pupils were vertical, but those eyes did not hold the indifference of the Ice Witch, but rather a more intense excitement, like watching a group of ants about to be burned to ashes.