Real Mount and Blade Game

The air was like solidified grease, carrying a faint smell of gunpowder.

As the last rays of the setting sun sank completely below the horizon, the world suddenly darkened, as if veiled in gray by an invisible hand.

In the ruins, the howling of the wind became clear and sharp, swirling among the broken walls and rubble, much like the whispers of the dead.

The standoff stretched endlessly into this gloomy, deathly silence.

Bartel's gaze, sharp as a knife, slowly shifted from the trembling Blue Star man to the seven rock-solid dwarf warriors behind him.

He saw the dried, almost blackened bloodstains on their warhammers, and the numerous scratches and dents on the round shields they held in front of them. This was not a ceremonial display; these were weapons rolled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, and the people wielding them.

However, he also saw in the dwarves' eyes not bloodlust, but the resolute wariness of a mother protecting her cub. They guarded that seemingly frail man from Earth as if protecting some last, inviolable treasure.

This protective stance diluted the heavy smell of gunpowder in the air, adding an indescribable sense of tragic grandeur.

“We…we’re not here to steal anything.” Batel finally spoke, his voice slightly distorted by the wind, yet still steady and powerful. He slowly loosened the taut bowstring a little—a signal, a small but clear gesture of goodwill.

His gaze returned to the face of the man from Earth, a face contorted with fear and hunger, now radiating an almost frenzied hope because of the word he uttered—"human race of the spirit world."

“You’re talking about the Spirit Realm Humans…” Bartel paused, seemingly considering this unfamiliar term: “If you’re referring to a race from another world, not native to this land, then yes, we are.”

The Kujit bandits behind him didn't move, but their tense muscles relaxed almost imperceptibly at their captain's statement. They, too, were people who had struggled to survive in dire circumstances, and could clearly distinguish between the howl of a trapped beast and the greed of a jackal.

The group of people in front of me seems more like the former.

The man from Earth, whose name seemed to be Chen Ping, suddenly burst into tears upon hearing Batel's affirmative answer. It wasn't sadness, but rather the collapse that came after the sudden release of some immense pressure.

His legs buckled, and he almost collapsed to his knees, but a quick-thinking dwarf behind him caught him.

“It’s really…it’s really true…” he murmured incoherently, turning to the dwarf supporting him, then to Bartel, explaining in a hoarse voice, “We…we are too! I am also a human from Blue Star, and they…they are my followers, a race of mountain dwarves from the Spirit Realm!”

He pointed to the seven dwarves, who remained vigilant, but the leader, whose beard was the longest and almost reached his chest, nodded heavily to Batel and the others, acknowledging Chen Ping's statement.

“The Spirit Realm…human race…” Arslen repeated the word in a low voice. He looked at Chen Ping’s face, which was exactly the same as his lord Shen Mu’s, with black hair, black eyes and yellow skin. The string of “alienation” and “vigilance” in his heart finally completely relaxed.

In this desolate wasteland ruled by death and skeletons, any similarity is enough to provide a reason for people to stick together for warmth.

“It’s completely dark now.” Batel’s gaze swept across the increasingly gloomy ruins, the grotesque silhouettes seeming ready to come alive at any moment: “This is not a safe place to stay. Those things could appear at any time.”

"Please...please come in!" Chen Ping seemed to snap out of his emotional turmoil. He pointed urgently to the crack in the wall behind him, made of collapsed beams and clods of earth: "We...we have a hiding place! It's safe! We can't hear anything outside!"

The old dwarf in the lead spoke in a deep, rumbling voice, like two rocks rubbing together: "The undead have sharp ears, but their bones and brains can't process things. They won't find it here."

Batel exchanged a glance with Arsleng and Batu behind him, without much hesitation. In this dark night, where they could be overwhelmed by skeleton cavalry at any moment, any hiding place that could provide shelter from the wind and rain and keep them away from prying eyes was an irresistible temptation.

“Alright.” Batel nodded, dismounted, and handed the reins to his companion beside him: “Let’s go in. Batu, you take five men and find a place outside to guard the horses and keep watch. The rest of you, come with me.”

"Yes, boss!"

With Chen Ping's guidance and the dwarves' tacit approval, Batel led eight bandits into the seemingly dead-end wall crevice.

A dwarf warrior walked to an inconspicuous corner, grabbed a huge iron plate disguised as a broken cement slab, and with a tooth-grinding scraping sound, used his seemingly small but terrifyingly powerful body to forcefully pull open a gap in the "wall" that was only wide enough for one person to pass through.

A unique smell, a mixture of dust, engine oil, and some kind of canned food, wafted out from the crack, carrying a hint of the warm, musty scent of "civilization."

On the other side of the passage, the view suddenly opened up.

This place is an underground space that is far larger than anyone could have imagined.

Judging from the exposed, rusty steel beams overhead and the rows of overturned, massive shelving units in the distance, this place must have been a large warehousing and logistics center before the "change of weather."

A few emergency lights powered by car batteries illuminated the space, their dim light enough to light up this "Noah's Ark" beneath the ruins.

Nearly twenty survivors from Earth, men, women, and children, huddled in makeshift cubicles made of tarpaulins and cardboard boxes. Hearing the commotion, they cast fearful yet curious glances their way. When they saw Batel and the others behind Chen Ping, their fear deepened.

But Chen Ping quickly calmed the commotion with a few words of reassurance, his voice carrying a hint of confidence and hope.

Batel's gaze swept quickly across the entire space. He saw mountains of canned goods, mostly vegetables and fruits; neatly stacked bottles of water and cases of beer; and in one corner, several survivors were repairing something with makeshift tools.

This is a well-ordered shelter.

"When we found it, it was buried under the sand, with only a ventilation shaft sticking out." Chen Ping's voice carried a hint of relief and pride: "It took us half a month to dig it open. The contents inside... would be enough for us to eat for a long time."

"You are very lucky," Arslan exclaimed sincerely. Compared to their hardships of sleeping in the open on the wasteland, this place was simply paradise.

The group found an open space to sit down, and the tense atmosphere of their earlier confrontation gradually dissipated in the dim light and relatively safe environment. The survivors curiously observed these warriors from the "spirit world," while the bandits were fascinated by this underground world.

The silence was broken by the rumbling of a stomach.

Batu took out a hard piece of black bread from the leather pouch at his waist, then tore off a strip of shiny dried meat. After thinking for a moment, he broke off a large piece and handed it to the old dwarf who had been standing silently behind Chen Ping.

"Try it, it's our kind of dry rations." Batu grinned, revealing a set of white teeth.

The old dwarf glanced at Batu with his cloudy little eyes, then at the food that emitted a peculiar aroma of wheat and meat. He hesitated for a moment, then took it. He first carefully smelled it, then broke off a small piece and put it in his mouth.

After chewing just a couple of times, the old dwarf's expression changed drastically on his weathered rock-like face!
In an instant, an unbelievable light burst forth in his usually calm eyes, as if a dying traveler had drunk a mouthful of life-saving sweet spring water!

"This...this is..." His rough fingers pinched the piece of black bread, feeling a warm and pure power slowly flow into his limbs and bones through his esophagus, dispelling the weakness and stagnation that had long lingered deep in his body.

"The power of 'rules'!" Another younger dwarf also received a small piece from Chen Ping. He exclaimed in surprise, and his gaze towards Batt T and the others instantly changed from wariness to a complex expression mixed with shock and longing.

Chen Ping also received a small piece of dried meat. After eating it, although he didn't feel as strongly as the dwarves, he clearly felt his spirits lifted and his thoughts became much clearer. The fatigue and numbness he had felt from being in the apocalyptic environment for so long were greatly reduced.

"My God..." Chen Ping looked at the food in his hand, then at the dwarves who were practically wolfing it down. He finally understood, and said to Batel in a trembling voice, "So that's how it is... so that's how it is..."

The old dwarf licked up the last crumbs of bread, then let out a long breath, a breath that seemed longer and stronger than before.

He looked at Battul and said in an almost pleading tone, "Warrior, do you still have a lot of this food?"

He explained, “After we spirit beings achieve soul resonance with the leader we follow, we must ingest substances containing the power of ‘rules’ to maintain our strength. Otherwise, we will become weaker day by day, just like we are now. Eating only the ‘rootless’ food of this world is like drinking water; it can quench thirst but cannot satisfy true ‘hunger’.”

These words, like a bolt of lightning, cleaved through the fog in the minds of Batel and the others.

They finally understood why their lord, Lord Shen Mu, had gone to such lengths to cultivate farmland, plant crops from the spirit realm, and feed livestock from there. It turned out that these seemingly ordinary foods were the very foundation upon which they, the "spirit realm humans," stood in this world!
Their food was a life-saving elixir for these dwarves who also came from the spirit world!

This discovery filled Batel with an indescribable sense of pride. They were no longer just ordinary vagrants; they possessed a vital resource that could change the fate of others.

“We have them,” Bartel said in a deep voice, his words resounding. “Our lord, Lord Shenmu, is also a human from Blue Star. He has established a city in the west, Deherim. There, we have farmland, pastures, and an endless supply of black bread and dried meat.”

He looked at Chen Ping and extended a sincere invitation: "If you are willing, you can go and join our lord. In Deherim, your people will no longer have to endure this 'hunger'."

“Shen Mu… Deherim…” Chen Ping repeatedly chewed on the name, his eyes gleaming.

"Longcheng City! It's near the original Longcheng City, right?" A young survivor suddenly shouted excitedly, "I heard it! I heard from some people who escaped from the west that a new and powerful force has risen up near Longcheng City, and the leader is a young man named Shen Mu! They said there are tall city walls, plenty of food, and they can defend against the monsters' attacks! So... so it was you!"

This news was like a reassuring pill, warming up the atmosphere throughout the shelter. The light seen in despair always shines brightest.

Batel and the others learned more about the area from the survivors. It turned out that the skeletal castle had only appeared in the last month. Since its appearance, the surrounding undead creatures had become unusually active and aggressive, their range expanding rapidly, almost completely eradicating all survivor strongholds in the area. Chen Ping and his group were incredibly lucky.

Just as everyone was chatting enthusiastically and imagining the magnificent scene of Deherme, an extremely faint yet chillingly clear sound came from the ground above.

Click... click...

The sound was like someone gently tapping a bone on the hard ground, or like some kind of arthropod crawling on dry sand.

In an instant, all sounds inside the warehouse disappeared.

The air, which had just been filled with hope and fervor, was instantly frozen by a chilling fear. Everyone held their breath, their heartbeats feeling as if they were being gripped by an invisible hand.

Bartel and his men gripped their weapons instantly, their eyes sharp as eagles, listening intently to the sounds around them. The dwarves spontaneously formed a circle, protecting the unarmed survivors of Earth in the center, their warhammers and round shields gleaming coldly in the dim light.

Click... click...

The sound grew louder as it approached, seemingly lingering in the ruins above them. Each strike struck like a hammer blow to their hearts.

They could picture the scene: one or more skeleton riders, with stiff, heavy steps, patrolling the ruins, their empty eye sockets burning with the soul fire that searched for all living things.

Time, at this moment, becomes incomparably long.

Every second was torture.

Fortunately, the entrance to the warehouse was extremely well hidden, and the entire structure was buried deep underground, so the undead creatures seemed unaware of this hidden island of life.

The suffocating "click" sound lingered overhead for what seemed like an eternity before finally fading into the distance and disappearing into the howling wind.

Only after confirming that the danger had passed did the people in the warehouse dare to slowly exhale a breath of stale air. Many of them were covered in cold sweat, and their backs were soaked.

A silence, a sense of relief after the ordeal, enveloped everyone.

The previous enthusiasm and hope were doused with a bucket of cold water by the cold reality just now.

Yes, no matter how good Deherm is, you still have to be able to get there alive.

No one was in the mood for conversation that night.

The bandits and dwarves took turns keeping watch, while the survivors huddled in their corners, falling into a deep sleep amidst unease and uncertainty about the future.

As the first faint rays of dawn struggled to penetrate the underground space through the ventilation openings, a new day began.

Batel stood up and stretched his somewhat stiff body. He walked to the heavy iron gate and peered out at the world through the observation slit left by the dwarf.

As the night passed, the desolate ruins appeared less grotesque in the morning sunlight. Hoofprints and footprints on the sand clearly recorded the arrival of uninvited guests the previous night.

In the distance, the castle of bones still stood silently, like a giant tumor lodged in the earth, exuding an ominous aura. (End of Chapter)