NEC Chapter 8: First Battle Concluded

As Chen Mo issued the “follow-up shot” command, he darted forward like an arrow released from a bow.

This life-or-death struggle had been rehearsed countless times in his mind.

As expected, the moment Little Blondie hit the ground, his two zombies let out frenzied roars and shuffled toward Chen Mo with lurching steps.

Little White deftly adjusted the rifle’s muzzle, unloading the remaining bullets into the fallen pair, then bolted in the opposite direction. Man and skeleton began circling the clearing’s edge.

A perfect reenactment, a mirror of how the zombies had toyed with the magic tree earlier.

Speed determined the line between life and death.

This was exactly why Little Blondie had insisted on bringing Many-Bones. With just his two zombies, if Chen Mo was determined to flee, he might not have been able to stop him.

In six or seven seconds, as the mage’s life force rapidly drained, the two raging zombies were abruptly pulled into a shadowy altar that materialized, banishing them back to the cold underworld.

Chen Mo immediately signaled Little White to double back while he stayed twenty meters away, his right hand tightly gripping the sweat-slicked pistol in his pocket.

Take risks? No way!

He knew his role clearly: he was the sidekick who’d score a single point alongside Kobe’s eighty in a game, the “Last Lord” shielding Zhao Yun while cutting through Changban Slope! Once his mental strength improved, it’d be the “me and my mom sweeping the otherworld” script!

Follow-up kills? Leave those to Little White.

The skeleton shambled forward, driving its half-length bone spear heavily into Many-Bones’ body.

The middle-aged warrior twitched, blood spurting as the spear was yanked out, splattering the green grass and Little White’s frame.

Without pause, Little White turned the spear toward Little Blondie’s throat.

“Binding Ring…”

Whether Little Blondie was playing dead or jolted awake by pain, he unleashed a final desperate attack. A crystalline ice ring formed in the air, coiling around Little White, knocking it off balance.

The spear, aimed for the throat, veered and plunged deep into Little Blondie’s shoulder.

“Aaaaah!” The Zircon heir’s scream pierced the heavens, his body curling like a shrimp tossed into boiling oil. His eyes bulged as if they might pop out, his face contorted in agony, unrecognizable from its former self.

Clearly, he’d never endured such pain.

Little White steadied itself, raised the spear again, and drove it precisely through the protruding eye socket.

It kindly sent the restless eyeball back where it belonged.

In his final moment of consciousness, Little Blondie strained to turn his head toward Chen Mo, his remaining eye filled with confusion and despair.

How could you do this? Didn’t you ask why I wouldn’t let you go? Why didn’t you let me finish?

All those carefully crafted, endlessly rehearsed lines, meant to be delivered with smug triumph, were now stuck in his throat!

Wasn’t this trash supposed to have failed at summoning a zombie? Where’d he get that thing?

Did he sell his soul? Damned lowlife!

You won’t escape…

As Little White thrust the spear again, Little Blondie’s body stiffened briefly, then his gaze faded completely.

In that moment of death, he thought of his illustrious family, his bright future, and the scenic beauty of his homeland.

Perhaps also the bone staff he coveted and the girl he never won.

He felt a pang of regret.

But it was too late.

The young master of the Zircon family’s main branch, nineteenth in line, a promising young necromancer apprentice, died silently in this fertile wilderness.

“Rustle… crash…”

The sound of branches being hastily pushed aside came from the nearby woods. The gunfire and that gut-wrenching scream had clearly alerted Ellie and Little Eleven, who were gathering herbs.

Facing the two who rushed back, standing stunned at the clearing’s edge with faces full of panic and disbelief, Chen Mo spread his hands from a distance, his voice weary and helpless: “I’m sorry… I had no choice!”

“You saw it. I didn’t want to come. I begged him multiple times to let me gather herbs, to let me go… but he wouldn’t.”

“He sent you away to deal with me. You know that in your hearts, don’t you?”

“I don’t want to die!”

“I had to… fight for my life!”

Chen Mo controlled his pace and tone, striving to craft the image of an innocent victim forced to resist. It seemed to work, at least a little.

Though both remained on guard, their gazes softened slightly.

“Ellie, Eleven,” Chen Mo’s voice was low, “I can’t go back.”

“Now, I need to head to Six-Leaf Grove, leave Black Crow Castle’s territory, and never return!”

“But first… I’ll need you two to come with me. I don’t know the way.”

“Please.”

This was the best plan he’d devised over sleepless nights.

Chen Mo didn’t want to kill again. He needed Little Eleven to guide him to safety. Once he reached Six-Leaf Camp and parted ways, they’d never meet again.

If they traveled together along Breeze Path to the centaur-controlled camp, even if they raced back to Black Crow Castle to snitch, the guards wouldn’t catch him in time.

Hearing his words, Little Eleven’s tense shoulders relaxed slightly, his crossbow dipping toward the ground, the most peaceful response he could muster.

He didn’t know how this apprentice candidate had killed a formal mage and a ranked warrior, but his scout instincts screamed: Don’t ask, don’t try!

Chen Mo nodded with a faint smile at Little Eleven, then turned to Ellie.

Her eyes were red, tears welling, ready to spill.

“Brother Mo… I’m scared… let me go back?” Her voice trembled with a sob. “I swear! I won’t betray you!”

Chen Mo shook his head firmly: “I’m scared too, Ellie, but there’s no way.”

“If you go back, how will you explain the others’ disappearance to the mentor?”

“Don’t fuss. Be good.”

“Just one day! If we hurry, we’ll reach Six-Leaf Grove by tonight. Then… you’re free!”

Under the looming threat of the two corpses, Ellie and Little Eleven had no choice but to comply, reluctantly stepping forward.

After a few steps, Little Eleven glanced back at the stiffening bodies: “So, you’re not taking anything?”

The afternoon sun bathed the clearing warmly. Though only minutes had passed, flies were already buzzing around the blood-soaked corpses.

Unsure if the loot might be problematic, and not needing to profit from the dead, Chen Mo thought briefly and flashed a kind smile: “I don’t want it. You can take what you want!”

“Oh, right,” he added, as if remembering something, pulling an item from his pocket, “I cut out the magic tree’s core. You can have it too!”

Ten minutes later, Little Eleven donned Many-Bones’ bulging pack, finished dividing the spoils, and walked silently at the front.

Ellie followed close behind, head down, shoulders trembling slightly. Chen Mo, with Little White, trailed far at the rear.

The return was even grimmer than the journey out, everyone silent, hurrying their steps as if desperate to escape a nightmare.

They rushed out of the Gloomy Forest’s inner ring, stepping back onto Breeze Path. The signpost stood unchanged. If not for the urgent need to flee, Chen Mo might’ve carved a quip of his own.

Maybe later… if he ever had the chance to revisit.

Under Chen Mo’s calm yet pressuring smile, Little Eleven swallowed hard, his boots scraping a near-ninety-degree turn on the ground, stepping heavily onto the leaf-strewn path leading far away.

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