Chapter 933: The Ability To Trust
Chapter 933: The Ability To Trust
“Centurion Aloysius!” One of the Guard Commanders shouted as they witnessed Aloysius get struck from behind by Izroth.
It was a middle-aged man with gray hair, emerald eyes, and a rough appearance. He donned a set of white and light blue leather armor. And, instead of a bladed weapon, he wore a pair of gauntlets that gave off several pulses of destructive magic energy.
NPC Name: Guard Commander of the 10th Tempest Legion, Fulgencio(Rare)
NPC Level: 53
NPC HP: ??? (87.52%)
Out of all the Tempest troops present, Fulgencio had been with Centurion Aloysius the longest. It was the first time in countless years since he’d seen the Centurion be wounded, especially so early in combat.
Although the wound itself was not life-threatening, it was still enough cause for concern. After all, Fulgencio knew just how ridiculously tough it was to break through the Centurion’s defenses.
Fulgencio immediately snapped the reigns on his warhorse and began a charge toward his Centurion and Izroth.
Swoosh! BANG!
Out of nowhere, a shield slammed into the side of Fulgencio’s warhorse with incredible momentum, causing the creature to stumble in its quickened steps.
Neeeeigh! Crash!
The warhorse was knocked to the ground; however, just before it hit the ground, Fulgencio jumped off its back.
His gaze then turned to the person who had just assaulted him. And, if looks could kill, that person would have died several times over.
“I don’t have time to waste on insignificant soldiers like you! Remove yourself from my path!” Fulgencio shouted as a heavy wave of killing intent manifested in the surroundings.
It was the type of killing intent that could only be formed after having experienced numerous life-or-death struggles on the battlefield.
“Insignificant? Hey, you Tempest bastard—you’ve gone and said something you shouldn’t have.” Astral Knight said as he lowered his shield and brandished his weapon.
BANG!
Suddenly, a devastating force slammed into Fulgencio, causing them to slide back a few meters.
At the last moment, the Guard Commander was able to defend against a direct blow; however, a faint red magic symbol within a circle appeared on his gauntlet where he was struck.
“That’s right! If we’re insignificant, then what are you?! Are you worthy enough to face the Captain of our 9th Division?!” Clouded Sky scoffed as he hit the ground with the end of his staff.
It was the staff in Clouded Sky’s hand that had just hit the Guard Commander. Of course, the staff itself was not your ordinary wooden staff. The wood used to craft it was just as hard as any steel and contained an unbelievable level of flexibility.
The next moment, a light orange aura appeared around Astral Knight and Clouded Sky. The instant this aura encompassed them, they felt as though they could break through anything in their path. Though this was not unusual considering the nature of this buff that originated from the third member of their Assault Group, Sanctity.
Sanctity was one of the few support players who were a part of the 9th Division and specialized in buff as well as cleansing magic.
The skill she used on Astral Knight and Clouded Sky just now was called Untroubled Push, which allowed those affected to temporarily overwhelm anything they came into contact with, regardless of a difference in strength or force.
That being said, the skill itself did have some limitations. For one, the range was not large by any means. Also, if the gap in strength was too far apart, it was possible to overcome the skill. But, even though every in their Assault Group was in their level 40s while their opponent had already breached the level 50 barrier, Sanctity was not worried. That’s because they had a strong backer that always seemed to step in at just the right time.
Surprisingly, this backer was not one of the Lieutenants of their 9th Division, nor was it their Captain. Rather, it was someone just like them who had only recently joined the 9th Division.
But, it was not just this way for Sanctity’s Assault Group. Be it Assault Group C, Assault Group D, or even the players who were facing the elite troops, they all had one thing in common. Someone had been interfering at critical moments and prevented losses on several occasions. And that person was none other than Bellum.
Although Bellum was with Assault Group A, whose primary goal was the elimination of mages inside the carriage, Niflheim entrusted her with a second task.
The task itself was one of the utmost simplicity. “Whenever you can protect a member of our Division, help them. I’m not asking you to fight their battles for them, but just to give them a slight push. Of course, if it’s too much to handle, then that’s fine, too.”—these were the words Niflheim said to Bellum before their assault started.
At first, Bellum was unsure why Niflheim would request such a thing from her. After all, their goal was the elimination of the mages. And, as one of the commanders on this mission, it was his job to ensure their success above all else.
Besides, even if it were a somewhat heartless viewpoint, those who died would simply lose one of their event lives and respawn. This was a small price that many core members of the top guilds would have no problem paying if it meant they could further their own advancement. In other words, a calculated loss.
However, Bellum discovered that the Lieutenants of this Division were not normal.
It was not that the mission itself was unimportant to them. But why did it feel like the war objective itself was a secondary thought?
Bellum felt as though they possessed on air about them that their success was guaranteed.
Overconfidence? Arrogance? These were the first two words that came to Bellum’s mind after her realization. But she quickly dismissed them. During their journey together, she had not witnessed either of those two traits from the Lieutenants. So then, what gave them such a high level of conviction? For this answer, Bellum came to one conclusion.
Bellum’s gaze landed on Izroth in the distance, who was facing off against the Centurion.
Meanwhile, because of Bellum’s actions, the players started to, unknown to themselves, fight with greater confidence.
This growth in confidence did not lead to an increase in recklessness. Instead, it made the players of the 9th Division fight with greater unity.
Up until this point, the 9th Division could only be considered a group of individual players with personal playstyles that were all over the place.
Even though their teamwork was not bad for a newly formed force, it was still far from the average party’s ability to work together efficiently.
However, this was not because the players present were inexperienced with group play. Rather, it was because trusting a stranger with your back did not come easy.
In the end, they had a limited number of lives to lose in this event; therefore, every last one of them was precious. How could they trust that the person next to them would not do whatever it took to save themselves at a crucial moment and leave their back exposed? This was something that lingered deep within the heart of many of the 9th Division players. Though it was becoming clearer with every passing second—the trust between the members of the 9th Division was finally beginning to reach levels of stability.
As the 9th Division started to overwhelm the elite troops, Niflheim’s Assault Group took advantage of a gap in the Tempest troops’ battle formation. They cut through the opening and were quickly closing in on the carriage’s position.
At the same time, one of the other Guard Commanders near the carriage shifted their gaze to Niflheim’s group.
The Guard Commander was a young woman with tied-up silver hair, piercing emerald eyes, and a stunning appearance. She wore light battle armor that was easy to move around in but protected her vital areas and wielded two thin swords that released a natural cold aura from their blades.
“Want to touch the property of my Tempest kingdom while I am here? Ridiculous.” The young woman said as she raised her hand into the air.
There was a cold gaze in her eyes as she looked down from her warhorse that caused one to feel a natural chill. It was as if they were being cut by countless tiny blades.