Chapter 122: Lynn: “What the hell! They can even pull aggro and lure monsters?”

The original houses, streets, and facilities.

All had been connected and covered by some kind of gelatinous substance resembling biological tissue.

Forming twisted holes and passageways one after another.

Countless black Beetles, each the size of a human head, with glossy shells.

Crawled in and out among them—densely packed, enough to make one’s scalp prickle.

The entire harbor was deathly silent.

Only the rustling sound produced by the wriggling swarm.

Like the whisper of demons, faintly audible.

“Th-this… this was simply a scene from hell!”

Avril’s face turned pale, her chest rising and falling violently.

Although she had lived through the crisis of Oak Town.

When had she ever witnessed something of this scale, something so blasphemously defiling life itself?

No wonder Lord Angel sent her here.

Everything happening here had already exceeded the limits of what common sense could describe!

Avril forced herself to calm down.

She took several deep breaths before suppressing the churning in her stomach and the fear in her heart.

“Don’t be impulsive… absolutely don’t be impulsive…”

She warned herself.

First, she was not certain whether, being so far away from the Sanctuary,

the Holy Light granted by Lord Angel could still be replenished in time.

Every bit of power had to be used on the blade’s edge—none could be wasted on meaningless hacking.

Second, how enormous was the number of insects before her?

Relying on her alone—even if she died of exhaustion—she could never kill them all.

Lord Angel’s mission was to “investigate the situation,” not to “purify the nest.”

If she charged in recklessly, she would not only fail the mission but might throw her own life away.

“But then… how should I investigate?”

Avril found herself troubled.

With the situation before her, not to mention entering the city—

even approaching the city walls might provoke a tidal wave of attacks.

Was she supposed to stand here from afar, then return to report: “Lemon Port has turned into an insect hive”?

Just as Avril frowned in distress, struggling to think of a solution—

a few moving dots suddenly appeared at the edge of her vision.

She immediately adjusted the focus of her telescope and looked carefully.

A seven-person squad.

They were cautiously approaching the direction of Lemon Port’s city gate.

Their equipment was uneven; they looked like a band of mercenaries or adventurers.

“What are they doing? Seeking death?”

Avril’s heart tightened instantly.

They clearly knew Lemon Port had become a death trap, yet they still dared approach?

However—

what happened next made her widen her eyes in shock.

When the squad was still some distance from the city gate—

they deliberately made a bit of noise.

Soon.

Five or six black Beetles rushed out of the broken gateway, screeching.

The members of the squad seemed prepared.

They immediately formed a simple battle formation, fighting and retreating at the same time.

Their coordination was seamless, their attacks precise.

They specifically targeted the Beetles’ joints, compound eyes, and other weak spots—striking, then withdrawing.

What was astonishing was—

they did not fight to the death. Instead, they maintained contact,

step by step luring this small group of Beetles away from the harbor area.

After withdrawing several hundred meters—

the squad suddenly burst forth, swiftly finishing off the five or six isolated first-tier Beetles.

From the direction of Lemon Port—

more insect noises could be faintly heard, but no large swarm chased after them.

The entire process was dangerous yet uneventful.

The squad cleared a small number of enemies at minimal cost.

“This is…” Avril was intelligent.

She immediately grasped the brilliance of this tactic.

“They’re luring out small groups of enemies and eliminating them in batches!”

“Just like… just like fishing!”

This kind of tactic—making use of monster habits, controlling the rhythm of battle, and wearing the enemy down piece by piece—

was something she had never seen in the academy’s rigid textbooks!

This sort of practical, even somewhat cunning battle wisdom—

felt incredibly novel to her.

Lynn, who had been remotely observing everything through Avril’s perspective,

nearly lost his composure inside Lynn Church at that moment.

A thought slipped out of him: “Holy crap, pulling monsters, aggro control?”

“This mercenary squad has dungeon sense!”

…

From the squad’s perspective.

Captain Jefferson let out a long breath.

The tension in his nerves eased a little.

That wave of “fishing” just now—though it looked smooth and effortless, retrieving a small group of black insects with zero casualties—

only they themselves knew

how much blood and how many lessons were behind this seemingly skilled tactic!

He swept a glance at the six remaining members beside him.

Every face carried the exhaustion of surviving a disaster,

as well as faint sorrow.

Yes.

They were originally ten people—the War Wheel Mercenary Group.

Just a few days ago—

they had stood before the weathered mission board of White Rock Fort.

Drooling over a commission with an unusually generous reward.

The mission requirement was simple, yet enough to make most mercenary groups flinch.

Go to the now-deadly Lemon Port and bring back fifty corpses of black Beetles!

The client was an eccentric alchemist from the lord’s castle.

It was said he had not even figured out the proper name of the insect.

But during a failed experiment, he accidentally discovered—

that the insect’s shell and certain glands, after complex processing,

could actually be made into a potion that treated heart disease or strengthened the heart!

The success rate was abysmally low, but as long as the potion succeeded—

it could be sold for an astronomical price!

Driven by enormous profit—

the alchemist had gritted his teeth and posted this life-threatening commission.

As for the War Wheel Mercenary Group, a bunch of penniless mercenaries—

when had they ever seen such glittering rewards?

Captain Jefferson had gritted his teeth and stomped his foot: “Damn it, that much money! We’re doing it!”

And what happened?

They took the risk, yet before they ever saw wealth—

three brothers who had survived countless battles with them were already dead.

Adams—the burly man who always bragged about buying a grand estate someday—was the first to be swallowed by the swarm.

Then Old Cat and Blade—they sacrificed themselves to cover the group’s retreat.

Leaving their lives forever in that foul-smelling harbor ruin…

“Brother Jefferson.”

Bona—the agile female rogue of the group—

counted the newly collected insect corpses, finally showing a faint smile.

“Nineteen more black insects and we can go back to turn in the mission! This trip wasn’t for nothing after all!”

Just as her words fell—

Harrison, the one carrying a battle axe, doused her with cold water.

He muttered, “Bona, don’t be happy too early.”

“Even if we finish the mission and get the reward, we still have to set aside three shares of compensation for Adams’ families.”

“How much will each of us really get in the end?”

The atmosphere instantly grew heavy.

Everyone understood Harrison’s meaning, but no one refuted it.

In the mercenary trade, one drank wine and ate meat today—

and might lie dead in the wilderness tomorrow.

Who didn’t hope that if they died one day, their families could live off the money bought with their lives?

It was an unwritten rule among those who licked blood off the blade’s edge—

and also the last bit of warmth.

Jefferson wiped away the grime of sweat and insect blood on his face, his voice hoarse as he growled:

“Keep your spirits up!”

“If you don’t want the number of people splitting the reward to get smaller and smaller, then all of you better stay alive!”

“Only by living can we earn more money—only then are we worthy of our dead brothers!”

His words were crude but not wrong.

Everyone silently nodded, preparing to tidy the battlefield

and change locations for the next fishing attempt.

At that moment.

A rustling sound came from the bushes to the side.

“Alert!” Jefferson barked.

Everyone snapped into combat stance, weapons pointed at the source.

The bushes parted.

A young woman stepped out—wearing an exquisite pale-purple mage robe,

with long purple hair cascading like a waterfall.

Her appearance was stunning, her presence extraordinary.

In this land of rot and danger, she appeared utterly out of place.

Like a violet blooming from the mud.

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