Chapter 313: The Crimson Knight [I]
"A female knight!"
At Invincible Strong’s shout, Marcus turned, curiosity sharpening his gaze as he looked toward the group of players rushing in from the distance.
As the force of more than fifty players drew closer, their figures gradually became clear. There were over a dozen women among them, yet only one truly stood out, commanding attention without effort.
She wore a suit of violet-red knight armor that was both intricate and imposing, its design delicate in detail yet grand in presence. The armor carried a faint crimson shimmer, as though a subdued flame lived beneath its surface. It made her seem at once formidable and striking, a figure impossible to overlook.
Mounted beneath her was a fiery red Flame Charger, its movements swift and forceful, as if it carried her on a tide of burning clouds. Together, rider and mount looked like a streak of crimson fire cutting across the battlefield, proud and unrestrained, yet precise and controlled.
Though more than a dozen knights rode similar Flame Chargers, none of them came close to her presence. She stood apart so clearly that the comparison hardly seemed fair, like a crane standing among ordinary birds. Even her mount, identical in type to the others, somehow felt elevated under her command, as though it too had been transformed by her will.
What drew even more attention was her control of the battlefield. The moment her group encountered the rat monsters, she began issuing orders without hesitation. Her voice carried authority, and her team responded instantly, forming ranks with practiced ease. They carved a path through the creatures with clean efficiency, advancing steadily toward Marcus’s position.
There was no question about her capability. The fierce, crimson aura she carried left a deep impression, one that lingered even after the eye moved away. She was not merely striking, but unforgettable.
And she was clearly their leader.
That alone added another layer to her presence, lending her an air of quiet pride and something harder to define, something that made people want to look twice. Even Marcus, who had been preparing to return to the city, found himself pausing, his attention caught despite himself.
This crimson knight had seized everyone’s focus.
Her face, however, remained hidden behind a finely crafted bronze mask. It concealed her features completely, allowing no glimpse of her expression. Yet rather than diminish her presence, it enhanced it, adding a sense of mystery that made her all the more compelling.
Her team was equally capable. Under her direction, the fifty-plus players quickly broke through the surrounding monsters and advanced toward the hill where Marcus and his group stood.
"Miss, you’re here. Did you kill the Savage Wolves?"
The question came from a corpse lying on the ground nearby. HappyFish, a female player, remained where she had fallen. At the sight of the crimson knight, she spoke at once, her tone urgent. She was a member of the knight’s mercenary group.
According to the game’s mechanics, a fallen player could only see and hear members of their own party, mercenary group, or guild. Everything else was cut off, as though the world had been selectively erased.
HappyFish, lying there, could see nothing but the quiet landscape around her and the arrival of her allies. The White Dog Rat King, the swarm of rats, Marcus’s group, even the Savage Wolves, all of it was completely invisible to her. She had no awareness of the battle that had unfolded.
Earlier, she had been leveling in the area when she discovered the White Dog Rat King. She had immediately notified her group, then remained on the hill to keep watch. But before help could arrive, the Savage Wolves had appeared, sweeping through the area with their usual brutality. Caught in the chaos, she had been killed almost instantly.
From her perspective, the outcome was obvious. The Savage Wolves, more than fifty strong, would have crushed everything in their path and taken the boss for themselves. There was no reason to think otherwise.
She had no idea that the situation had completely reversed, that the Mad Lion Mercenary Group had not only resisted but eliminated the attackers and secured the boss without issue.
"Where are they?"
From atop her Flame Charger, the crimson knight scanned the area, her gaze sharp as it moved across the hill.
But aside from Marcus’s group of eight and a few bodies still waiting to revive, there was nothing. No sign of the Savage Wolves. No traces of a large-scale battle that should have left some evidence behind.
"Where are the Savage Wolves?" she asked again, a faint crease forming in her thoughts.
If not for HappyFish’s corpse lying there, she might have questioned whether she had come to the wrong place entirely.
Her eyes shifted, catching the red lion emblem on Marcus’s group. The words ’Mad Lion’ were clearly marked.
’Not Savage Wolves.’
Mercenary group names were public, displayed openly on each member’s arm. Anyone could identify another player’s affiliation at a glance. Marcus himself bore the name of his own group, ’Monarch,’ in plain view.
Her gaze lingered on the eight players before her.
’Could they have done it?’
The thought seemed unreasonable, yet the absence of the Savage Wolves left little else to consider. Over fifty players did not simply vanish without a trace.
Had they already killed the boss and left? That didn’t fit either. The Savage Wolves were notorious for their methods. When they cleared an area, they left nothing behind, no survivors, no witnesses.
And yet here stood eight players, unbothered and intact.
A possibility formed in her mind. Could the Mad Lion Mercenary Group be connected to the Savage Wolves?
If that were true, then the situation changed. Her group already held a grudge against the Savage Wolves. At the very least, HappyFish’s death demanded a response. And now, with only eight opponents in front of her, the opportunity was almost too convenient.
Then something else caught her attention.
Pink petals drifted lazily through the air, faint and delicate, accompanied by a lingering fragrance of peach blossoms. Her eyes narrowed slightly. She recalled a soft pink glow she had seen from afar earlier, the same hue as these petals.
Within that glow, she had glimpsed a slender figure moving with light, almost dancing steps.
But among the eight players here, there were no women. Something had happened here. Something significant.
In one smooth motion, she dismounted. The movement was fluid and weightless, like a crimson cloud descending to the ground. Two female warriors followed closely behind as she approached Marcus’s group with measured, graceful steps.
"They’ve been killed?"
Her lips parted slightly as she spoke, her voice clear and pure, like open sky after rain or a clean flame without smoke. It was calm, steady, and unexpectedly pleasant to hear.
For now, she chose to ask first.
Only after understanding the situation would she decide what to do next.