Chapter Fifty-Five: Six Against Twenty-Six

“Discovered already, as expected of the master of the Purple Void Illusion Realm. You do have some skill, it seems the forum’s assessment of your strength wasn’t just empty talk.” A young man with a buzz cut, his expression arrogant and even brazen, revealed a hint of annoyance as he spoke. “It seems you’ve just completed your story quest and are about to leave Heroes’ Town.”

The First Faction, the guild founded by “Three Years Short,” was clearly behind this event—it was all orchestrated by him. He had gathered a group specifically to ambush Nightfeather and his five companions, and the players chosen to surround them were all of intermediate strength; their formation and class combinations were nearly first-rate.

There were more than a dozen high-burst stealth specialists, supported by both control and auxiliary professions. At this moment, their advantage was obvious. It was clear that Nightfeather’s group was in serious trouble—escape was impossible.

“You’re in a position where waiting for your guildmates to come to your aid is impossible. And your guild will be replaced by us sooner or later, after all, trash is just trash.”

Hearing these words, an icy glint flashed across Luo Feng’s face, but Nightfeather shot him a look, clearly signaling not to act rashly.

Seeing Nightfeather’s group fall silent, all of their opponents let out cold laughs, many sneering openly.

“What’s wrong, not as arrogant as before?”

“Yeah, weren’t you acting all tough earlier? You dared to openly go against our ‘First Faction,’ but now you don’t look so impressive!”

“If you want to walk away, pay us six thousand gold each and we’ll let you pass. Otherwise, even if we have to go red-named, we’ll kill you all.”

Upon hearing this, Luo Feng’s face darkened with anger.

“We’ll leave, it’s just a yellow name. If you want to kill us, I wonder how many of you will die with us.”

At that moment, Nightfeather spoke, his icy tone edged with a faint, almost invisible killing intent, as if warning them that any attack would end in disaster for both sides.

His words made many of their opponents fall silent, their faces turning grim and even twisted as they stared at the white-clad figure. Though they had the upper hand, they had also heard plenty about the fixed team of “Cool Night” and his five. Especially their leader, “Cool Night.”

Now, the buzz-cut youth, his face full of arrogance, took a deep breath and stepped forward, sneering mockingly, “Leave? Do you think it’s that easy? Even if we fall, we’ll make sure to wipe out all six of you.”

At this, Nightfeather’s group furrowed their brows. Nightfeather’s voice was cold as he replied, “This guild of yours really is something. Even the dogs you raise are this arrogant?”

“‘Three Years Short’ certainly breeds a special kind of people—loud, obnoxious, and brash, just like a pack of mangy dogs,” Luo Feng added, arms crossed.

Their voices weren’t lowered, so everyone on the other side heard the insults. Instantly, their faces changed, and someone snapped furiously, “Say that again if you dare!”

“Do you think you’re worthy of hearing it twice?” Luo Feng replied with a playful smile.

Just then, before their opponents could act, Nightfeather and his companions smiled gently. Nightfeather spoke up, “Since things have come to this, even if you go yellow or red-named, it won’t do you much good. So do us a favor—or rather, kindly lift your noble claws a little, and name your price.”

Nightfeather’s words perfectly matched the buzz-cut youth’s intentions. He grinned even wider, delighted. “I never expected the most famous player on the server would have to beg like this—how satisfying. Since you’re willing, we won’t be too hard on you. There are twenty-three of us here. As I said, six thousand gold each, that’s thirty-six thousand in total.”

Nightfeather’s brow furrowed slightly at this.

“So be it, you’ll have your wish,” he replied with a smile, then whispered to his five companions, “Shall we make a move now and see how it goes?”

Only then did the others realize what Nightfeather was planning—this was exactly his style.

“You just love showing off and then want us to clean up your mess—honestly, you’re something else, Third Brother.”

“How is it just you cleaning up? I’m in this too, you know?”

Nightfeather only shrugged, grinning. “Besides, I’m just the support. I believe the six of us have a clear advantage and can handle them.”

Seeing Nightfeather’s lack of shame and his confident words, Luo Feng was left speechless.

PvP battles like this were always thrilling, and now, facing twenty-three with just six, the danger was real. In “Divine Desolation,” with yellow-named battles, there were no friendly-fire restrictions except within the same party. Nightfeather’s team wanted to exploit this loophole, which increased the risk of accidental hits on both sides. That was why they considered making a move.

The six exchanged glances, faint smiles curling their lips. They stretched, joints cracking.

Huang Hong extended his arms and said calmly, “If you’re going to command so many, Third Brother, you’d better do it well. Otherwise, we’re just going to end up running and dying.”

“I know, I know, you don’t have to remind me. Now you’re making me feel pressured,” Nightfeather replied with a helpless sigh and a wry smile. He drew out his zither, letting it float before him, while the others readied their weapons as well.

Then Luo Feng spoke, “Are you aware what kind of fallout this might cause? You and ‘Three Years Short’ only have superficial grievances so far—it won’t necessarily affect our whole guild.”

Nightfeather gave a soft laugh. “Since they’re doing this, they clearly don’t care. Hostility is inevitable—and do you really think they’re that strong?”

“Tsk, put like that, you have a point.”

…