Chapter 700: African King vs. European Emperor, the War Between the Unlucky and the Unlucky

The Stonemason Guild, the very architects who erected Stormwind, the most magnificent fortress-city of the Alliance, were ultimately denied both the compensation they rightfully earned and the glory they so richly deserved.

Given their extraordinary talents, they ought to have occupied a brilliant chapter in the grand history of the Alliance, yet through a confluence of tragic circumstances, these brilliant craftsmen were buried forever alongside their dreadnaught in the deepest recesses of the mine.

Players of this era remained pure and earnest, possessing enough patience to unravel the narrative step by step through their quests, and it was precisely for this reason that they bore witness to the legacy of the Stonemasons, watching firsthand as the group transformed from the splendor of the Defias Brotherhood into madness, and finally, toward complete ruin.

It was by no means a grand tale, nor were there any heroes to be found within it.

There was only a collective of stonemasons, a tragic gathering of small, forgotten figures endowed with immense talent, who, in striving merely for the wages due to them, ultimately buried everything they held dear by their own hands.

Within World of Warcraft, those legendary heroes and monumental deeds often felt profoundly distant to the vast majority of players.

Yet, from the moment one entered the game, immersed in its rich geography, culture, and the heavy weight of impending history... to the heartwarming nature of the Paladin class trials, the blunders of novices on the battlefields, the dramatic clashes of fortune between the blessed and the cursed during loot rolls, and the countless ordinary yet deeply moving stories experienced along the way—every single player could feel these fragments of life.

Even if you were a complete novice who knew absolutely nothing about the game, unaware even of how to allocate your talent points.

The Deadmines was finally cleared, the hour drawing close to four in the morning.

"Move aside! Let me loot the corpse!" Liu Ningyun cried out, having just dominated the roll with a perfect score of one hundred to claim a jeweled ring, her hands seemingly blessed by the gods of fortune.

"Cruel Barb?!"

Cruel Barb

One-Handed Sword

30 - 57 Damage

Speed 2.80

"So high!"

Although the system interface did not fully quantify physical parameters, the equipment still retained its reference data, which served perfectly to reflect the quality of the item.

In an era when nearly everyone was still clad in green uncommon gear, this weapon was nothing short of an absolute masterpiece.

"A hundred points! Give me a hundred points!" Nalan Hongwu shouted at the top of his lungs, selecting the Need option.

The dice rolled an eleven.

"Ah! Why so low!" Nalan Hongwu wailed in despair, his heart virtually shattering after toiling away for an entire night.

"Hahaha!" Beholding this abysmal roll, Commander Elven felt his heart quicken with excitement, realizing that his night spent managing the party's corpses was finally about to yield a rich reward.

"Then I shall accept it with gratitude!" Commander Elven laughed boisterously. "Many thanks, many thanks!"

The game interface prompted:

Gryphon Knight Elven selected Need:

(Need) 1 Point.

Only Me Wine Sword Immortal obtained item: Cruel Barb.

Nalan Hongwu stared blankly at the rare blue one-handed sword that had materialized inside his inventory, realizing that the great crests and troughs of human existence were truly nothing more than this: "Eh?"

"Ahahahahaha...!" He was practically driven mad with sudden joy.

"Ah!" Upon witnessing his own pathetic roll, Commander Elven let out a heart-wrenching shriek of agony, weeping in a manner terribly reminiscent of a three-hundred-pound child.

When two wretchedly unfortunate souls clash, one is bound to emerge even more cursed, and thus the grand battle between the unluckiest players drew to a temporary close.

"..."

...

"Tomorrow... ah, no, the day after tomorrow, we continue!"

"Agreed, agreed!"

"The day after tomorrow, this old man will help each of you secure a weapon of your own!" Nalan Hongwu was clearly in a magnificent mood, adding everyone to his friends list regardless of whether they had known each other prior to the venture.

And for Tix, who had been leveling as a Priest and had been on the absolute verge of giving up, this was the very first time she experienced the genuine warmth and charm of the game.

Certain deeds were simply never meant to be accomplished alone, yet beneath the hands of a group who had started as complete strangers, helping and sustaining one another, they had actually managed to reach the very end.

Perhaps within this bond lay a profound sense of trust, a reliance forged through a period of shared trials that allowed one to place their very survival into the hands of another.

The Mages and Priests trusted that the frontline companions could flawlessly shoulder the burdens of interception and protection, thereby allowing them to unleash their destructive magic and healing spells without reservation; meanwhile, the melee fighters on the front lines could charge into the fray with absolute peace of mind only because they trusted that the casters in the rear would excel in their duties, ensuring a shield or a healing spell would grace their heads whenever peril loomed, and crowd control would alleviate the pressure whenever they were surrounded.

Perhaps within this world, there existed a species of friendship that transcended distance and boundaries, enabling two utterly unacquainted parties to establish a trust that ought to have been incredibly difficult to build between human beings.

And tomorrow, or the day after... perhaps this friendship and trust would endure, serving as an affirmation and a reward from those who had obtained fine gear to the teammates who had labored through the night without yet receiving what they deserved.

Accompanying this sentiment, inevitably, was the thrill and joy of self-challenge, born from having accomplished something that previously seemed entirely impossible through one's own sheer exertion.

It was already exceptionally late, four o’clock in the morning.

Though their mental fortitude and vitality were notably superior to those of ordinary men.

Engaging in continuous combat within a virtual reality environment for twenty consecutive hours was undeniably an immense drain upon the spirit.

The members of the vanguard party, having finally completed their pioneering run of the Deadmines, stepped out from the establishment in a state of mild daze.

Commander Elven glanced left and right: "Hmm?"

Every single member of the Golden Gryphon Knights had also just emerged from the shop.

"Why are you all out so late as well?" Commander Elven inquired in considerable astonishment.

"Otherwise, if only a few of us showed up tomorrow, how dull would that be?"

"If we are to do it, we do it together; let us just consider today a day played to our absolute heart's content!"

"Let's go, let's go."

Elven suddenly froze in place for a brief moment.

Perhaps they had not merely gained companions who had transitioned from strangers to familiar, trusted friends within the game; both inside and outside the virtual realm, there remained a gathering of people who accompanied them through every blunder and shared in every ounce of laughter.

This, too, was a friendship entirely worthy of being cherished.

The knights of the Golden Gryphon Knights walked in close companionship:

"So, that Deadmines place, did you finish it or not?"

"Let me tell you, while I was doing a quest today, I stumbled upon a treasure chest... opening it actually gave me several gold coins...!"

The crowd conversed animatedly, their voices gradually fading into the distance amidst the lingering darkness.

"As for us, let us find some breakfast first."

"If you hadn't mentioned it, I would have forgotten, I am absolutely starving!"

...

On the other side, by the time Liu Ningyun, Mo Xian, and the others rode their swords back to the Nanhua Faction, dawn was truly on the verge of breaking.

A faint, fish-belly white hue was gradually suffusing the distant eastern horizon.

Upon the Nanhua Square, several figures were hurrying along in great haste.

"Faster! Faster!"

"Morning lessons are about to begin!"

"We still need to pay our respects to Master... hurry, or we won't make it in time."

"Hmm?" Within the small courtyard belonging to Master Daoist Xichi, Daoist Xichi suddenly opened her eyes amidst the fading gloom.

"How is it that you few have arrived so early today, and in such immaculate unison?"

"Uh..." Their faces froze in unison.

Every single night, they each had their own cultivation lessons to attend to.

If Master were to find out they had stayed up the entire night...

"We would surely be reprimanded..."

Naturally so; every sect possessed its own heritage, and what they needed to do was not to discard the self—blindly imitating others was by no means the orthodox path. What they truly required was to discover from it a more complete road, one tailored to themselves.

Neglecting one's own cultivation lessons was, of course, out of the question.

"Uh..." Yue Yan, the junior sister, seized upon a sudden flash of inspiration. "Today, I attained a sudden epiphany regarding the immortal path, so I dragged my senior sisters out early to discuss it in fine detail."

"Collective cultivation?" Reverend Xi Chi froze for a moment, then spoke. "Indeed, the path of cultivation is like rowing upstream; to not advance is to drop back. Yes, quite good. It is rare to see you all so diligent and hardworking."

"Ahahaha... yes, yes, we cultivated the entire night, absolutely hardworking." Yue Yan, sporting a pair of dark panda eyes, hurriedly exchanged meaningful glances with the others.

"..."

Reverend Xi Chi suddenly changed the direction of her words: "Well then, have you cleared the Deadmines yet?"

"We cleared it!" several voices answered in sheer excitement.

"Uh..."

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PS: Polymorph indeed cannot be cast instantly at the current level, it has been corrected.

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