The deeper we plunged into the forest, the steeper the climb became. We sprinted uphill now, our speed crippled, stamina draining fast. Yingning wouldn’t last much longer.
Thankfully, our pursuers gasped just as hard behind us, their steps heavy. The gap between us held—for now.
“We can’t keep this up,” Yingning muttered. Whether to me or herself, I couldn’t tell. In her eyes, I was just a bundle of limited-AI data. Probably talking to herself.
“We won’t escape. This forest is small. Past this hill lies open ground. Without tree cover, we’re exposed to the mages’ ranged attacks. Certain death. Dying itself… isn’t the worst. But respawning? Every Respawn Point is guarded by them. We’d be stuck in an endless corpse-camping loop again.”
Anxiety tightened Yingning’s face. Her breath came ragged with exhaustion. The arms cradling me trembled, yet she gritted her teeth and held on.
Ahead lay a barren clearing—roughly a hundred meters wide—completely exposed. Crossing it would make us moving targets. But circling around? No time left.
Hundreds of players charged from all directions, forming an airtight encirclement. Any detour meant crashing straight into their ranks.
Yingning didn’t hesitate.
*Cross the clearing! Climb the hill!*
With a Warrior’s speed buff, crossing would take five seconds. A blink in real life—but an eternity in-game.
Even Yingning had to admit their Guild’s discipline. The moment they spotted the clearing, fireballs and ice spears began chanting within their ranks.
In an instant, incantations swarmed from every shadow—apocalyptic whispers pressing down like a tidal wave beneath the night sky. My heart seized as if gripped by an icy fist, blood turning sluggish, knees buckling.
That ceaseless, mosquito-like drone of spellcasting alone made my scalp prickle, as if we’d already been blasted to dust…
“Master! Put me down! Let me fight them!” I thrashed, clutching a fistful of glowing white Peas.
Yingning bit her lip till it bled, resolve hardening her features. “No! You can’t die. Carrying you is our only chance!”
Her thoughts weren’t for her own survival—but mine. Without me, she’d have turned back already, unleashing a day’s worth of fury even against impossible odds.
She tightened her arms, stifling my struggle. The force jolted my hand, scattering the Peas wildly across the clearing ahead.
She’d never willingly sacrifice me. If not locked in combat—unable to deactivate Pet Summon—she’d have shoved me back into Pet Space long ago. I knew this wasn’t guesswork; I heard her snarl “Deactivate summon!” again and again.
The system rejected every command.
A storm of dazzling spells erupted. The forest’s magic seemed sucked dry in an instant. The air reeked of death—acrid and hollow. Scorching fireballs and bone-chilling ice spears rained down like meteors, their light bleaching the clearing and treeline into blinding day.
“Surrender! Or die with your pet!”
Yujianlin had arrived from another Respawn Point. She granted Yingning one second to decide. If Yingning yielded, Guild Leader Yujianlin would instantly disable Free PK mode, nullifying the attacks. Even she couldn’t stomach mutual destruction after grinding so hard for this.
Pure brute-force coercion. Yingning understood. Spells danced in the air like poisonous butterflies. She faced a choice: let me die—trapped in a long respawn cooldown—or surrender me to them.
*If it were me, I’d fake surrender.*
But after this humiliating day, Yingning’s hatred ran too deep. Too deep even for deception.
She chose to break rather than bend.
Her boots hit the open ground. Spells erupted from the treeline—streaking like falling stars, screeching toward the girl and her fox.
Yingning dodged desperately. But the first fireball found its mark.
And with her HP? One hit was all it would take.
