Chapter 153: The Cost of Loyalty (Part 2)
Zhang Bochen had not dismounted when the warrior’s combat instinct intensely warned him. He felt a prickly sensation stabbing at his brow, piercing his skin, turning into fear. His heart couldn’t help but start racing.
The warrior’s extraordinary ability granted him the foresight to sense danger. He had used this ability to easily evade the assassin attacks from the Shadow King several times in his dreams, but the danger posed by the Shadow King was like comparing a mosquito to a ravenous wolf when compared to the imminent threat in the military camp.
For the first time, he felt a sense of fear before battle.
Zhang Bochen took a deep breath, steadied his mind, drew his blazing red longsword, and commanded:
“Dismount, and prepare for battle at any moment!”
The elite soldiers quickly dismounted, drew their longswords, and raised their halberds, aiming at the camp’s main gate.
Zhang Bochen stood in front of the soldiers, rationality told him that as an extraordinary being of the gold rank, he had the ability to protect himself even in the face of the incredibly strong hero George. But his combat instinct kept screaming in his ears: “You will die! You will die!”
To encourage himself, Zhang Bochen said, “Soldiers, don’t be afraid, I am here before you—”
“Boom!”
The camp’s main gate suddenly shattered. A blood-soaked Fear War Demon appeared before everyone, wielding a giant blood-red blade. He wore crimson armor, with a black horn protruding from his steel helmet, and his faceplate was riddled with dark holes, emitting a frightening red glow. A spike on his hefty shoulder armor impaled a human head, which belonged to an old soldier sporting a gray mustache.
The head was still alive. It looked at Zhang Bochen and opened its mouth to emit a voice:
“Lord Zhang Bochen, save me, save me!”
The voice resonated with the soldier’s fear and helplessness before death, spreading into everyone’s minds. Each person saw the old soldier’s final moments in their minds, his legs broken, crawling helplessly, seeking rescue from his most trusted commander. Fear and despair crushed the once-resilient battle-hardened soldiers, their weapons trembling, even the extraordinary Zhang Bochen felt fear.
As the Fear War Demon gazed at them, several elite soldiers seemed to be seized by fear, their throats constricted, rolling their eyes back, collapsing to the ground, twitching a few times before falling silent. Civilians observing from a distance were similarly paralyzed, as the nearest group of people, terrified, their legs gave way, screaming as they fell to the ground, only able to use their hands to scoot backward.
To conquer the fear within him, Zhang Bochen shouted hoarsely, “Attack! Avenge our brothers!”
He took the lead, charging forward with his sword. The Fear War Demon swung at him with immense force, and Zhang Bochen felt his arm go numb, unable to exert strength, while his fear intensified, images of his shield being shattered and his head flying through the air filled his mind. He roared, thrusting his sword, but only managed to create a few sparks against the demon’s armor.
He came very close to the Fear War Demon, but the enemy was too tall and his weapon too long to break through the armor. Unexpectedly, the Fear War Demon punched him directly on the helmet, shattering it, causing the fragments to spread across his armored body, transforming into dozens of metal shards scattered on the ground.
Instantly, the sense of security brought by his solid armor vanished. Zhang Bochen’s heart seemed to be at the mercy of fear, beating violently, uncontrollably recoiling back, trying to escape the Fear War Demon. In that moment of retreat, he regretted it; he had unknowingly walked into the jaws of the enemy.
“Weakling!”
Another sweeping blow came, Zhang Bochen raised his shield, and with a thunderous sound, the shield shattered like his armor into countless fragments. He was carried away by the immense force, crashing into two elite soldiers before finally coming to a stop, his entire body in pain, with his left arm fractured and hanging limply at his side.
The soldiers need me!
Zhang Bochen grasped his sword, lifted his head, and saw his soldiers surrounding him, standing firm before the Fear War Demon, filling him with hope. With a burst of energy, he stood up.
However, his soldiers were in a state of panic, like frightened chicks, clutching their weapons, trembling as they pointed at the Fear War Demon.
They heard the Fear War Demon say:
“Is that so? I won’t come over, you weaklings.”
A sense of foreboding struck Zhang Bochen as he saw the Fear War Demon free one of his hands and shout, “Cowards, beheaded!”
In an instant, the heads of more than twenty elite soldiers fell from their necks as if they had all been executed by an invisible guillotine.
Zhang Bochen was horrified, realizing he could not stop this terrifying embodiment of horror. He could only call for reinforcements and team up with the Great Benefactor. He turned and fled, jumping on his warhorse, crashing through the crowd, racing towards the bridgehead.
“Hahaha!”
The Fear War Demon laughed heartily, stepping over the headless corpses, swinging his sword at the fallen people, crushing their skulls underfoot.
“Run!”
“Help!”
Those who were still able to stand, like frightened lambs, crowded toward the nearest exit. Those who fell were trampled by countless feet, bruised all over. Zhang Bochen’s warhorse got stuck in the crowd, and he decided to jump down, using brute force to surge over the heads, sprinting towards the bridgehead, shouting to the soldiers on the bridgehead, “Quick, seek help!”
Before he could finish, a black fireball streaked over Zhang Bochen’s head, exploding at the bridgehead checkpoint. The entire structure crumbled, bricks and stones falling, burying those trying to escape through the door, blocking them completely. This was not merely destruction; it was a force of ruin that devastated the bridgehead.
The path behind was blocked, and people desperately continued to run toward the ruins of the bridgehead.
Zhang Bochen sprang over the ruins with a powerful leap, twisting in the air, looking back at the helpless soldiers. Gritting his teeth, he shouted, “Hold on! I’ll summon the Great Benefactor!”
He dared not glance at the abandoned soldiers. Once he landed, he dashed toward the noble district. The sounds of slaughter echoed behind him, and tears filled Zhang Bochen’s single eye.
Hold on! As long as I can summon the Great Benefactor, he will surely come to rescue us. And with the hero George, hunting down the demon race is his duty; he will be able to kill that monster!
With this thought, he ran faster, ignoring the pain in his body, desperately sprinting, spitting blood as he ran.
After nearly three minutes, he spotted a heavily guarded bridge leading to the noble district in the distance. A large group of muscular men, about two meters tall and wielding halberds, surged out from the bridge, led by a rider with a neatly trimmed brown beard and a strong yet deformed right arm—none other than the Great Benefactor Zhang Bochen.
He must have foreseen the crisis, sending soldiers to rescue us in advance.
Zhang Bochen felt both joy and guilt; he had messed up after all. He shouted as he rushed toward the Great Benefactor Bransky, yelling, “Bransky! Quickly! The camp needs reinforcements; our soldiers are being slaughtered by a demon creature!”
The Great Benefactor Bransky, sitting atop his tall warhorse, looked at him with an expressionless face, neither sad nor happy, remaining utterly still. The muscular men he had transformed stood in a neat line, motionless.
Zhang Bochen grew anxious, calling out:
“Please, I know I’ve wronged Shalin City, but the soldiers need reinforcement; the enemy is too strong!”
“No, brother, you’ve done very well, impeccably.” The Great Benefactor Bransky sighed. “But why you were able to escape makes me very sad.”
“What?”
The Great Benefactor drew out a bone sword and said, “You could have bravely sacrificed yourself for Shalin City.”
Zhang Bochen forced a pained smile, saying, “Bransky, what are you joking about?”
A ball of black flame landed behind Zhang Bochen, and from the rising flames, the two and a half-meter-tall Fear War Demon stepped forth, dripping with blood, wielding his massive blade.
He said, “I released him. Only absolute despair can give rise to absolute fear, ensuring the success of my demon-ascending ritual.”
Zhang Bochen’s mind exploded as he realized.
This was a deal between the Great Benefactor Bransky and the demon race, and he was part of this transaction, a sacrificial offering.
Zhang Bochen widened his single eye, looking at Bransky, and exclaimed, “It’s you! You’re using my soldiers as sacrifices?!”
“Sorry, I told you that you can never let a hero take the Flower of Shalin City.” The Great Benefactor said, “Now, to save Shalin City, I have no choice but to do this.”
From the beginning, it had been a trap. There would be no rescue; everyone was doomed. Zhang Bochen was engulfed by despair, his single eye reflecting the approaching figure of the Fear War Demon, and he could finally no longer resist the fear; this brave warrior trembled like a lamb.
The Fear War Demon swung at him, and Zhang Bochen could not withstand it. His arm was severed, and the Fear War Demon’s huge hand held him, twisting his head off and impaling it on the sharp spike of his shoulder. Zhang Bochen’s head was frozen in sheer terror.
The Great Benefactor coldly said, “When will you fulfill your promise?”
“I will not defy Marus’s orders. As long as you do not lie, if the hero George is only at the gold rank, I can kill him and seize that succubus.” The red light flared from behind the hollow faceplate. “I am not like the demonic king Kima, who is obsessed with beauty, to be killed by someone of a lower level. However, I must prepare for the demon-ascending ritual, just in case.”
As he said this, he revealed a black obsidian that had appeared in his hand. With a mighty squeeze, the stone shattered, cascading down in a red glow. He gazed toward the direction of the White Sand District and remarked, “Interesting, the succubus is still in this city.”
No one noticed a dark corner not far away stirring slightly.
…
…
On the other side.
“Achoo!”
Ji Ma, holding the “Oathbreaker Sword” with both hands, suddenly sneezed and muttered, “Which bastard is talking bad about me behind my back?”
At the same time, she felt as if someone was watching her, like a wolf fixating on the back of her neck. She set down the bronze sword, shook her head, and said to George beside her:
“Really unfortunate, there’s a white energy consuming my heart; I can only wait until tomorrow.”
For some reason, that feeling of being watched grew increasingly apparent. She felt an inexplicable fear, her heart rate gradually quickening.
It seemed like a fellow professional had arrived. Judging by the initial appearance, it should be platinum rank. As of now, there’s still the oath intact; a dead virgin cannot regain his strength.
While Ji Ma was pondering, she saw George looking over with concern and asking:
“What’s wrong? Your heart is racing.”
Ji Ma didn’t speak, shaking her head, signaling that she didn’t know; she said, “I feel like I’m being targeted. The Great Benefactor has a deal with the demon race, and it might be related.”
Just as she was about to discreetly tell George the truth, a group of terrified citizens came running from across the bridge, rushing toward the bridgehead checkpoint, shouting:
“Lord Paladin, save us!”
“The demon race, it’s the demon race, killing anyone it sees!”
“Quick, go and save them!”
The ones at the front looked somewhat familiar.
Ji Ma focused her gaze and exclaimed, “Hey, isn’t that the square-faced guy?!”
How did he not get killed? What a pity; it once again proves that heaven has no eyes. But it also saved me the trouble of explaining to the dead virgin.
Ji Ma thought gleefully.
George walked toward the checkpoint, asking, “What’s happening?”
——————
Another update before midnight, ah, I’ve used up my owed updates. Tomorrow, I’ll return to my hometown.
