Chapter Ninety-Three: The Third Killing Under the Divine Moon

The Myth of the Left Hand had never experienced anything like this before. In just a few moments, he was battered by the dwarves’ vulgar insults until he was utterly humiliated, his face flushing a deep red. Suddenly, he shouted, “You’re courting death!” and raised his staff, ready to attack the group of dwarves. The dwarves showed no fear—in fact, some even prepared to charge at him.

“Myth, don’t,” Spirit Fox Moon quickly intervened, raising her hand to halt him. She felt instinctively that something was wrong, though she couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Even if all these dwarves attacked her at once, she wouldn’t fear them; her bronze armor’s defense was far beyond what these novice white-board players could break. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine Ye Chen could locate them anywhere on the map—these dwarves were simply here to get them marked as red-named.

The dwarves knew their mission well, and their performance was commendable. Seeing Spirit Fox Moon stop the Myth of the Left Hand, they turned their verbal cannons on her.

“A filthy woman with that pretty boy? She must be rotten to the core.”
“Exactly, I bet she’s a whore.”
“What’s a whore?”
“It’s a chicken.”
“Oh, I see.”

The dwarves showed off their eloquence, and Ye Chen nearly burst out laughing. He clutched his stomach tightly, biting his lip, squatting on the ground as if constipated. If he weren’t afraid of making noise, he would already be rolling around in laughter.

Spirit Fox Moon’s face changed, becoming colder than ever before. Even when Ye Chen had killed her twice in succession, she hadn’t been so furious. The flames of hatred burning in her eyes made the Myth of the Left Hand shiver, his expression turning odd.

“You dare say that again!” Spirit Fox Moon’s voice was as chilling as a cold wind, causing the dozen dwarves to pause for a moment. But soon, they returned to normal, even more enraged, and launched a fresh barrage of insults at her.

“Who’s the whore scaring?”
“She’s scaring you!”
“Haha, we hit her nerve! Do you think she really is a...”

Before the last dwarf mage could finish his sentence, Spirit Fox Moon let out a shrill scream, “Shut up!” and cast Holy Flame at him.

-715. The blood-red number floated above the dwarf’s head, instantly killing him. Ye Chen wasn’t surprised by the damage. The dwarf mage was a white-board with incomplete equipment and a low level, so Spirit Fox Moon’s attack wasn’t unexpected.

When Spirit Fox Moon killed someone, Hate Sky High and his companions revealed strange expressions. The super-high damage didn’t scare them off; instead, they grew excited. The higher the damage, the better the equipment, and the more painful it would be for the opponent to lose it. Their sacrifice would be all the more worthwhile. The dwarves exchanged glances and shouted together, “Kill!” Howling, they rushed at Spirit Fox Moon and the Myth of the Left Hand.

Both Spirit Fox Moon and the Myth of the Left Hand were startled by the dwarves’ charging momentum. This wasn’t normal. Normally, these trashy low-level accounts should scatter at the first sign of trouble, but there was no time to think—the dwarves were already upon them. In an instant, rotten blades and broken sticks rained down, dealing damage in the teens and twenties.

“Kill them all!” Spirit Fox Moon’s voice was cold and grim. There was no retreat now. Although these low-level accounts didn’t hit hard, if left unchecked, their attacks would eventually be fatal. The only option was to strike first.

“Wow, this filthy woman is tough!”
“This idiot is strong too!”
“I curse you to have children with no...”

None of the dwarves were a match for Spirit Fox Moon, and they were easily cut down. Yet, even as they died, they continued to flaunt their talent for insults, enraging Spirit Fox Moon and the Myth of the Left Hand until their faces were pale.

Spirit Fox Moon and the Myth of the Left Hand fought two against ten, not only holding their own but slaughtering the dwarves with ease. The scene was comical—a group of dwarves ganging up on two humans, looking like two adults bullying a crowd of children.

This strange battle didn’t last long. From start to finish, it was less than two minutes. When all twelve dwarves turned into white light and returned to the city for free, Spirit Fox Moon and the Myth of the Left Hand were now as red-named as could be. Ye Chen silently calculated—both had met their quotas: the Myth of the Left Hand killed four, Spirit Fox Moon killed eight, exceeding the requirements.

“Haha, Sister Moon, that was exhilarating! Nothing’s more fun than stomping noobs. I haven’t killed so many people since entering District Four,” the Myth of the Left Hand said, his face beaming with satisfaction, swaggering happily.

Spirit Fox Moon, however, felt no joy in victory; her face was gloomy. She glanced at the white-board equipment scattered across the ground, a shadow cast over her heart. In a cold voice, she said, “I have a bad feeling. These low-level accounts were probably sent to get us marked as red-named.”

“Marked as red?” The Myth of the Left Hand shuddered, shaking his head. “No way, who would be that bored? Besides, these low-level accounts should’ve been an accident. Hardly anyone knows we’re here, not even many in Spirit Fox.”

“Better to be careful. I’ve already notified our members. We’ll have two teams come join us for leveling soon. With more people, we’ll have backup. Red-named deaths are very dangerous.” Spirit Fox Moon scanned her surroundings with vigilance. Although nothing seemed amiss, she remained cautious. “Let’s move to a new spot to grind. Don’t stay here.”

The Myth of the Left Hand, now a little fearful, immediately followed Spirit Fox Moon, heading deeper into the forest. But suddenly, a dragon’s roar echoed behind them, sending chills down their spines.

“It’s that Ye guy!” The Myth of the Left Hand screamed in panic and, without a second thought, bolted into the woods.

“Idiot, don’t run!” Spirit Fox Moon’s eyes flashed with fury. She hadn’t expected the Myth of the Left Hand to be so useless, fleeing for his life before even seeing the enemy. It’s true what they say: fear the pig-like teammate more than the god-like enemy. She turned around just in time to see Ye Chen appear out of nowhere, his miniature black dragon already formed.

“Black Dragon Strike!”
“Immobilization!”

Spirit Fox Moon reacted quickly, casting two spells almost simultaneously. Ye Chen’s body was frozen in place, but the black dragon soared straight toward the crimson-named Spirit Fox Moon.

Seeing Ye Chen’s dragon spell unaffected by immobilization, Spirit Fox Moon’s face fell into despair. She was about to lose three levels in succession, and the thought drove her nearly mad. It was obvious now—the dwarves had been sent by Ye Chen to get her marked as red-named, so he could make her drop her equipment. Her entire bronze set—if she lost several pieces, it would be as if her flesh was being stripped away. As she thought this, her beautiful face twisted in agony, and she screamed curses, “Ye! Ye! Ye! May you die a miserable death! I won’t let you go, won’t let you go, won’t let you go!”

“Seems the lovely Miss Moon can’t forget my heroic presence. No worries, haha, I’m happy to have a place in a beautiful woman’s heart,” Ye Chen said with a mischievous smile. Watching the black dragon fall from the sky, he chuckled, “Here’s a free trip back to the city, Miss Moon. Congratulations—you’ll save a gold coin.”

Seeing Ye Chen’s smile and hearing his mocking words, Spirit Fox Moon felt her dignity shattered. Her beautiful face contorted further, silver teeth clenched, eyes filled with nothing but madness and hatred. As she screamed her resentful cry, the black dragon engulfed her, then shattered, leaving a pile of glowing bronze equipment on the ground.

Released from immobilization, Ye Chen stepped forward and, without looking, scooped up all the equipment. He opened the minimap, watching the blinking dot representing the Myth of the Left Hand fleeing in panic. With a faint smile, he said, “Now it’s your turn.”