My Players Are So Fierce

1568: 527.

1568: 527.

Old Qin wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with the necromancer.

When he was summoned by Baldwin, the necromancer, he was utterly confused.

Was this guy holding a grudge because he got beaten up and now wanted to have a private 1v1 duel to salvage his dignity?

As it turned out, death had already stripped the necromancer of the fiery zeal belonging to commanders and warriors.

It summoned Old Qin simply to inquire about these so-called “interdimensional demons.”

Even though Old Qin repeatedly explained to him that they weren’t truly destroyers from another dimension, perhaps due to his “eyewitness account,” the necromancer remained skeptical.

It persistently probed Old Qin about “the other world.”

The old soldier, who knew the truth, initially worried that his half-baked comments might provoke the “Observers,” but it turned out that the Observers didn’t seem to care about such exchanges between the two worlds.

During his conversations with the necromancer, Old Qin disclosed some basic information, yet the player interface didn’t issue any penalties.

This led Old Qin, a rather unconventional “intelligence operative,” to detect a peculiar undertone.

Onboard the Wind Eagle heading toward Klim Fortress, Old Qin began talking more boldly with the necromancer, discussing the differences between the two worlds.

At the same time, he started probing—trying to find out if such powers or forces existed that could freely travel between the two dimensions.

To this, the necromancer responded surprisingly directly.

“Even though I’ve been resurrected after being dead for hundreds of years and am completely disconnected from this era, I can confidently tell you, Old Qin, that the kind of force you described—capable of freely traversing two worlds—does not exist.

You’re not a Psychic, and your understanding of dimensions and planes is far inferior even to an average person here.

You cannot fathom the immense complexity of preparations necessary to accomplish what you described.

I can tell you with certainty: such powers do not exist in this world.

If any faction truly possessed such abilities, they could easily rule over the world.

But look at this chaotic world—does it seem capable of birthing the kind of monumental power that could traverse all realms?”

Faced with the necromancer’s answer, Old Qin nodded and refrained from asking further questions.

He mulled over these matters and recalled the report Meng HaHa had submitted earlier.

That physicist had proposed a baseless hypothesis.

She suggested that whether it was their world or Transylvania, both were being forcibly connected by those who called themselves “Observers”—using incomprehensible means or technology as part of an “experiment.”

Just like their predicament as outsiders, the locals of Transylvania had no deeper understanding of the “Observers” either.

In this disorderly foreign world, even living with dignity was a luxury for the people here, let alone having the energy to explore the unknown.

Now Baldwin, the necromancer, had arrived at the same conclusion.

This made Old Qin seriously reconsider the implications of Meng HaHa’s report.

If they couldn’t delve into this mystery through the locals, then their only option to uncover the truth behind this enigmatic “third-type contact” would be to follow the narrative set forth by the Observers—a narrative tailored for them, the outsider players.

The Observers surely had a purpose for orchestrating this; they couldn’t possibly be engaging in such cross-world interactions merely out of boredom, right?

Two planetary-scale social experiments?

That theory seemed almost too horrifying to entertain.

Baldwin noticed the furrowed brow and contemplative expression on Old Qin’s face, and it was clear that his new companion had secrets weighing on his mind.

However, Baldwin didn’t press further; instead, he lifted his gaze toward the distant Klim Fortress.

Dusk bathed the fortress nestled in the mountain pass in twilight.

Like a silent giant, it guarded the path leading to the Kavkhoka Plain fiercely.

This was once territory of the Posya Confederation, but it now marked the border of the Nordtof Kingdom.

In Baldwin’s era, this fortress hadn’t existed yet.

However, he understood its significance.

The thought that it was now defended by the Winter Wolf Army and his own offspring gave Baldwin a certain sense of “reassurance.”

In his eyes, having the Winter Wolf Army guarding this place was trustworthy.

As long as the Winter Wolf warriors adhered to the series of regulations he had set for the army back then, their combat effectiveness wouldn’t diminish.

“We’re almost there.”

A few minutes later, Old Qin snapped out of his thoughts, glanced at the fortress’s aircraft platform in the distance, and said to Baldwin:

“Your great-grandson is waiting for you there.

Tsk tsk, Old Luo, you’re truly a big shot—resurrected and still commanding this level of honor.”

“If you’re mocking me, then congratulations—you’ve succeeded.”

The necromancer said hoarsely:

“Don’t bring that up again.

That was no lucky resurrection.”

Pulling the reins of his mount, Baldwin began descending under the watchful eyes of the cautious Northern soldiers below.

As a necromancer, Baldwin was inherently repulsive to living beings.

Wind Eagles—creatures of natural spirit—were unwilling to carry him.

Yet undead beings had their ways.

Currently, Baldwin rode a black skeleton war horse, a creation modified with corpse-structuring techniques by Bella.

The beast had two pitch-black bat wings and had been imbued with necromantic spells, enabling it to soar like the legendary Pegasus.

As a “sample” creation, Bella had given this unique undead construct some extra embellishments, such as lightweight armor that exuded the flavor of nightfall.

During the journey, this distinctive mount frequently drew the eyes of the “escort” players nearby.