Chapter 341: The Power Lance Needs Most

Chapter 341: Chapter 341: The Power Lance Needs Most

At that moment, everyone—townsfolk and remaining veterans alike—turned their heads in unison.

Their gazes followed the sound.

There, on the pitch-black ridgeline of the distant hills.

A bright torch was held high.

Then a second, and a third...

Within just a few short seconds,

hundreds, even thousands of torches, like newly kindled stars, rapidly linked together across the rolling hills to form a dazzling sea of fire!

By this light that now covered the mountainside,

all the despairing townsfolk could see clearly.

Vast numbers of Professionals clad in armor and wielding weapons,

were advancing in neat battle formations, crossing the steep mountain ridges and sweeping toward the Demon encirclement like a flood from a broken dam!

The equipment on this group of Adventurers was not pristine.

Many had armor that was battered and broken, covered in the dark soil and bloodstains of the Underground City.

Many even had blood-soaked white bandages wrapped around their arms and foreheads.

But this did not slow them in the slightest.

With steady strides, the thousand battle-hardened Professionals smashed into the rampaging Demon Group like a sharp knife!

They cut through them like deadwood!

And behind these combat-focused Professionals,

a large group of unarmed Ordinary people also ran out after them.

They were the logistics personnel of the Red Dragon United Strategy Team.

A young man in rough linen clothes hurried over to the old woman who had just fallen.

He slid his hands under her arms and carefully helped her to her feet.

"It’s okay now, ma’am."

The young man pointed to the torches in the distance.

"Head toward the light of the torches. Our Therapists are over there."

After he spoke,

the young man bent down and picked up the pieces of coarse, dry rations that had been scattered on the ground trampled by the Demons.

Showing no disgust, he used the corner of his own tunic to carefully wipe the mud from them.

Then he tucked them back into the old woman’s heavily patched cloth sack.

And it wasn’t just this young man.

The other townsfolk witnessed one incredible scene after another.

Clearing out these Low Level Demons didn’t require all the Professionals to charge in at once.

Some Casters were using Floating Spells to right the heavy, overturned wooden carts.

There were agile Wanderers in Leather Armor, of the Wanderer Profession.

They were returning the small bundles and belongings they had just recovered from Demon corpses, handing them back untouched to the townsfolk still trembling beneath the carts.

Watching all of this unfold,

most of the townsfolk were lost in a long, stunned silence.

’This... This completely shatters our perception of Adventurers!’

In their minds, Adventurers were a pack of desperados who would draw their blades on each other for a few Copper Coins.

’How could they possibly be protecting civilians of their own accord?’

’Even helping us pick up our food and fix our carts?’

Thanks to the arrival of the Red Dragon United Strategy Team,

the Demons in the area were cleared out with incredible speed.

In less than half an hour,

the wilderness was quiet once more.

After the battle,

the combatants of the Red Dragon United Strategy Team did not disband.

They dispersed into their original squad formations,

and quickly formed a tight security cordon around the periphery of the tens of thousands of townsfolk.

Julius, Felix, and Viters, the three core commanders, walked along the caravan, carefully inspecting the defensive line and checking for casualties.

Felix walked over to a carriage, casually flicked the green blood from his blade, and slid his Longsword back into its Sword Scabbard with a sharp SHIING.

Suddenly, he caught a small, dark shadow approaching from his right in his peripheral vision.

He instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword and whipped his head around.

Standing before him was a little boy who looked to be only four or five years old.

The little boy was clearly a little frightened by Felix’s blood-stained armor.

But he still managed to summon his courage.

He stood on his tiptoes, stretching to hold a dirty little hand out to Felix.

In that small, childish palm,

lay half of a slightly crumbled oat cookie.

The cookie was crudely made; you could even see un-milled husks in it, with just a smear of cheap, low-quality jam on top.

Felix’s hand, still on his sword hilt, froze.

He stood stunned, staring at the rough-looking half of a cookie.

A gesture like this.

Whether as a nobleman in his past, or as an Adventurer,

he had never experienced anything like it.

Felix relaxed his grip on his sword.

He squatted down, bringing his eyes level with the little boy’s.

He reached out with his gauntleted hand and took the half-cookie from the boy’s dirty little palm.

Then, right in front of the boy, he popped it into his mouth and took a large bite.

"It’s sweet."

Felix chewed. The texture was dry and coarse, but he ate with great seriousness.

"It’s delicious!"

Hearing this,

the little boy’s once-timid eyes instantly lit up.

His tense little face broke into a huge, radiant smile.

Then, he turned happily and, on his short, stubby legs, waddled away like a happy little duck, running back to the warm embrace of his mother nearby.

Felix remained squatting, looking at the few crumbs left in his hand.

An incredible feeling, one he had never experienced in his entire life,

was like a warm current.

It rose from his chest, slowly spreading through every fiber of his being.

In truth,

when they had just emerged from the Underground City and seen Gray Rock Town under attack by Demons,

the three commanders, as well as most of the members behind them,

had acted almost subconsciously, without hesitation or concern for personal gain or loss.

After all, during the past few weeks, the one thing drilled into them was to draw their swords to protect their comrades. So, upon seeing their own kind attacked by Demons, their first instinct was to draw their weapons and help.

But Felix had never expected

that such a simple act of protection, done with no expectation of reward,

would move his very soul.

’This journey into the Underground City... The changes it’s brought about in everyone are probably far more profound than any of us imagined...’

Felix mused to himself.

Just as he stood up to continue his patrol of the defensive line,

a somewhat plump, middle-aged man in respectable silk clothes approached him, a worried look on his face.

It was Homman.

"Excuse me, Sir."

Homman asked, wringing his hands with a deferential tone.

"Might I ask, are you the main force from one of the large Guilds in White River City?"

"If..."

Felix stopped, glanced at his companions who were comforting the civilians, and finally shook his head.

"If you mean all of us here,"

"then we don’t belong to any single Guild."

"We’ve just made a forced retreat from the ’Rusted Stone Echo’ Underground City."

Felix stood a little straighter, a hint of pride in his voice.

Even though this group would soon scatter, at this moment, he was truly proud to have been a part of it.

He had loved his time with this team.

"We are the Red Dragon United Strategy Team."

Hearing this, Homman was visibly taken aback.

But he recovered quickly, a flicker of hope in his eyes as he pressed on urgently,

"Then... since you came from in there,"

"do you know... a young man named Lance?"

"He’s my niece’s sweetheart. Is he... is he safe?"

The image in the sky earlier had been too blurry.

Homman had failed to recognize that the terrifying expert who had transformed into a Half-Dragon to fight a Heroic Spirit to the death in the sky was the same person as the ordinary Copyist from the Guild.

In his mind,

Lance was just a Copyist who had recently changed his Profession to become an Adventurer.

"Sweetheart?"

Felix was clearly taken aback by the word.

He instinctively glanced over at Julius, who was directing the troops nearby.

The image of Lance leading the Snow Lady away by the hand in front of everyone in the Underground City surfaced in his mind.

The night wind blew ceaselessly across the wilderness,

carrying the metallic scent of damp earth and the faint smell of blood.

The tens of thousands of townsfolk, who had just been driven to despair by the surprise attack,

now,

huddled closely together, watching the broad backs of the sword-wielding Adventurers patrolling the perimeter.

Gratitude.

Awe.

The relief of having survived a disaster.

And a burgeoning trust in the team known as the "Red Dragon"!

These purest thoughts and feelings, from tens of thousands of ordinary mortals,

seemed to create a wondrous, invisible resonance.

They transformed into imperceptible threads of pure gold.

Within the vast, boundless Star Realm,

these threads converged into a slender stream that radiated a warm light.

It crossed the endless void, flowing inexorably toward a certain crimson star that flickered with a faint light!

And this pure Power of Thought

was precisely the Power the young man facing the Evil God needed most!