64. Now or Never (Patreon)

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Shen could see nothing of the battle from his position. He considered jumping before getting a better idea.

"Buy any G-tier equipment that would let me watch the battle as well as possible from here," Shen said.

| Purchased: Any Equipment (G) | -10 AP

| Remaining AP: 221,204

A ladder appeared in front of him, already set. It was almost thirty feet tall.

"I didn't know you could buy things like that," Evelyn commented.

"I bought this belt thanks to that," he patted the belt that stored  his crystals. "Buy another ladder." A new one appeared beside the first.  "Please ask Bob to meet me up there," he said and climbed up.

The ladder wasn't the most stable, but his balance more than made up for it. The height gave him a great view of the fight.

The elites were running at the regulars. The boy who had threatened him...

"What's the unpleasant guy's name?" he asked Evelyn, who had also bought and climbed a ladder beside him.

"Scott Moore," she replied.

Scott led the charge. Meanwhile, attacks from the regulars rained  upon the elites. It soon became harder to see the army through the  curtain of spells, arrows, and bolts. Of the twenty thousand regulars,  at least half were shooting stuff at the two thousand elites, the  majority of it spells, mostly fireballs.

It was impossible to tell how many hit the elites or missed, but Shen bet on most hitting. They were too packed together.

Half the elites kept going. The other half stopped a hundred yards  away to send projectiles back at the regulars. None could go through the  barrage of enemy projectiles, and that wasn't even counting the many  enemy archers that started specifically targeting the elites' spells.

Things got even trickier when the elites were about fifty yards from the front line.

The regulars' attacks had been scattered among all elites, but now,  they focused entirely on the enemy front line. Around ten thousand  people focused their ranged attacks on one thousand. It was a sight to  behold.

"Wow," Bob said beside Shen. The latter had noticed the former  climbing, just as he had noticed new ladders appearing everywhere and  others climbing.

"Wow indeed," Sandra agreed.

Shen wanted to talk to Bob but focused on the battle for now.

At least one-tenth of the elites fell on that barrage alone, making  things more difficult for the survivors. However, they resisted and kept  approaching, if slightly slower than before.

Shen found something strange, however. Only fire, lightning, and  summoned rocks were thrown at the elites. Some elements, especially ice,  were missing.

The flow of the battle changed when the elites got close enough to  the enemy's front line. At least twenty percent of the army's long-range  attackers were on the ground and lost sight of the elites. The regulars  couldn't damage one another, but their bodies still stopped the  friendly fire, giving the elites an advantage.

When the elites finally reached the regulars, an elite jumped over the regular's front line.

"There he is," Evelyn said.

Scott had become an avatar of fire, his entire body burning. At  first, Shen had thought it was because of enemy spells, but he quickly  realized he had been wrong. Scott himself was summoning his fire, and he  jumped in an arc to bypass the regulars' front line. At least two  hundred others followed though none as eye-catching as him.

"How does he breathe like that?" Bob asked.

"Magic," Evelyn replied, and that was all they could guess.

From then on, the fight was divided into three: the elites casting  spells from afar, the ones on the front lines, and the ones behind enemy  lines.

The latter was the first to fall.

Shen had noticed some elements were missing, and they all appeared  now. The long-ranged attackers all but ignored the front line and  focused fire on the two hundred elites in their midst. Ice and water  turned into steam, wind concentrated it around the elites, even dirt was thrown at the elites from the people on the ground. Scott could  deal with enemy spells thanks to being surrounded by others—and thus  harder to hit—but he suddenly found himself unable to see his foes. The same happened to the other elites.

Some tried jumping again to get out of the area of affected  visibility, but it didn't work. The mages using wind spells made the  steam follow quickly, and the other long-range attackers were close  enough that they could instantly adapt to the enemy position. Their  spells found the elites whenever the latter tried to go, especially when  they were easier to hit, midair.

Then the troops on the ground acted.

Whenever elites were, the people around attacked them. Being unable  to see attacks coming from all sides was enough to kill Scott much  faster and with much less glory than even Shen had expected. Shen  guessed he didn't wear clothes because of the fire, but it clearly left  him terribly vulnerable. The targeted elites did their best to kill  those around, and a few regulars fell, but not nearly enough to make a  difference. The unarmored elites died quickly.

The elites wearing protective armor or wielding shields didn't fare  any better. The regulars simply threw themselves at them. The regulars'  innate soul defense countered whatever spells the elites might use to  protect themselves too.

It took but a few minutes for the regulars to have all armored elites  in their midst buried under dozens, maybe hundreds of people. Their  pieces of armor or shields were forcibly taken away, then they were  stabbed to death. Shen wondered if there were magic enchantments to make  one's equipment stick to their bodies existed.

"Classic zerg rush," Elam commented.

The system's translation function explained to Shen what a zerg was, but not a zerg rush. He got that from the context.

The elites fighting the front lines were doing better, but not by  much. Any regular who got injured stepped back and was replaced with  another. The regulars regenerated 10 HP per second, so they didn't even  need a big buffer in wait for that switch tactic to be effective. Still,  the elites proved why they were elites by killing many regulars before  the latter could retreat. Slow as it might be, the elites were gaining  ground. If nothing changed, they would win.

Unfortunately, things did change after the regulars took care of the  elites in their midst. The front line was quickly surrounded by mist,  and soon enough, the elites were dying. Only those who retreated in  time—a few hundred—survived.

Nothing happened after that. The survivors of the assault were too  afraid to try again, and the long-range attackers could do nothing to  the regulars.

After realizing the futility of that all, the elites retreated in defeat.

"Well, that happened," Bob said and turned to Shen. "Were you looking for me?"

"Yes," Shen assented, then cupped his hands in front of himself and bowed his head. "Feng Shen greets Bob Timothy Junior."

"Nice to meet you," Bob said back with a nod.

"I would like to pursue a friendship with you if you don't mind," Shen said, straight to the point.

Bob looked at him as if he was crazy. "Sorry?"

"I want to befriend you," Shen explained. "However, we both don't  know if we would be adequate friends. Therefore, I would appreciate it  if we both tried, and there would be no hard feelings if we concluded we  aren't a good fit."

"Well... I can already say that I don't think we're a good fit. Sorry."

Shen... hadn't expected that. The straight-up rejection hurt him in a  weird way. He was even sure what was the feeling inside him.

"Is that so?" Shen said slowly. "Would you mind if I asked why?"

"You're trouble," Bob said. "I want to live in peace."

That was... unfortunate. And understandable. Not all people walked  the same Path. "I see. Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

Bob crossed his arms and shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"That's a pity," Shen concluded. The feeling of being rejected was  definitely uncomfortable. "Thank you for your time." He turned to  Evelyn. "Should we discuss the tactics to deal with the regulars?"

"Is that even possible?" Elam asked.

"Yes," Shen replied with a smile. "Definitely."

= - = - =

Evelyn's group walked toward the regulars with a heavy countenance.  The fact that they were about to face an army of nineteen  thousand—Scott's team had caused some damage—might be part of it, but the main issue was that Shen had trashed them all.

Utterly.

He had wanted to understand their power and limits to strategize, so  he sparred with them. He let them do their best against him for a few  moments, then hit them where they were the most vulnerable so they could  fix said weaknesses. Very few were grateful for the free class.

The good news was that their group had greatly increased in size,  reaching almost one thousand. Some of Scott's former people joined  Evelyn, and some stragglers saw that this was the last opportunity to  attack unless they wanted to fight an army alone.

Shen was behind them, following the march. The plan he had suggested  required him to surprise the regulars and hit quickly. He would achieve  that by attacking at the most opportune moment.

As much as he wanted to attack alone, he believed it would lead to  his eventual defeat. One mistake, and he would be buried under hundreds  of bodies. Their tactic of throwing themselves at the elites was simple  but effective. He was strong enough to push many people away from him,  but not many dozen simultaneously. Their numbers gave them too much of  an advantage.

"Are you sure about your plan?" Bob asked. "Scott didn't last long."

Shen was most confused about Bob. Shen was confident the boy had  hidden from Shen when he had approached Evelyn's group. Then he had  refused Shen's friendship. And now he was talking to Shen as if nothing  had happened.

Shen idly wondered if there was a Concept of Interpersonal Skills he might connect to; that would make his life better.

"I'm sure," Shen replied. He had absolute confidence in his plan. He  had drawn from the wisdom he had taken from the Concept of War to make  it, and it felt solid.

Evelyn's group stopped a hundred and fifty yards away from the regulars.

"It's now or never!" she yelled. "We win, or we die. Let's go!" Then she led the charge.

Shen followed but still kept some distance. Evelyn and Sandra  eventually slowed down, and so did a bunch of others. The regulars'  attacks started coming when the group was a hundred yards away.

The incoming projectiles got more persistent at around fifty yards,  as had happened to Scott's group. Shen, at the back, barely had to deal  with any and easily sidestepped the few that approached. Now that he was  close to an assault team, he realized the regulars were even more  devious than he had given them credit for.

Amid the plethora of spells and projectiles, hundreds focused on a  few elites, who were as packed as Scott's group had been—to make the  regulars overconfident. At least a hundred elites fell before they  reached the first line of defense.

At last, the front lines clashed.

The elites were around nine hundred now. Three hundred hit the regulars head-on.

Two hundred elites, however, stopped a little behind. The regulars  weren't the only ones that could take advantage of the lack of  visibility caused by their spells. As fire, lightning, and rock exploded  on the front line, the elites prepared for their sneak attack.

Two hundred others, Shen included, rushed at the ones who had  stopped. The remaining ones, mostly mages, stayed close by to support  and protect whoever was near.

Shen forced himself to run as slow as the others. They formed a line.  His goal was Sandra, who was standing beside Evelyn. A few yards from  her, he rushed full speed ahead.

The runners reached the people waiting, who offered their joined  hands to the former to step on. Shen stepped on Sandra's gauntlets. She  pushed him upwards with all her F+ strength and agility, and he pushed  against her hands with his own E- stats.

Evelyn decreased gravity around him as best as she could.

Shen focused Boundless and Zephyr Qi on his body, willing it to push him far and beyond.

Two hundred elites shot toward the middle of the regulars, emerging  from the barrage of fireballs on the front line like dragons soaring  through the skies.

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