The game has become a real alternate world

How long has it been since I last saw these people, like Kana?

By all accounts, perhaps a year.

But it's just been a year.

Why?

Why has the strength of these people grown to such an extent?

I can't understand it.

Not far away, a Holy Knight slashed down a Cultist with his sword. The Cultist's body began to emit a faint, stinking smoke. The blade of the Holy Knight was wrapped in Holy Light, which had a strong restraining effect on these Cultists.

However, after this slash, the Holy Knight seemed unable to hold on any longer, using his sword to prop himself up on the ground, gasping for air.

He really couldn't go on.

"Oh?! Giving up already?" a rough voice came from the side.

A Dwarf swinging a Warhammer smashed it down, the hammer brimming with intense fighting spirit.

With one swing, he knocked away an overly inflated modified Ghoul.

He forcefully knocked it, along with two additional charging Cultists, into a tumbling heap.

"You guys, hey... what's going on? Not even catching your breath?" the Holy Knight gasped while asking.

About ten minutes ago, he had already begun to feel fatigued.

But the fighting stances of the Night Watchers around him were too fierce, forcing him to muster his strength.

Otherwise, he'd be bringing disgrace to the Holy Light Church.

After those ten minutes, he'd become so exhausted that he could no longer wield his sword.

However, these Night Watchers showed no signs of pausing or fatigue as they fought on.

"Haha, you mean this—get lost, don't interrupt me while I'm talking!" said the Dwarf, swinging his hammer to knock another lunging Ghoul away.

This time, however, he didn't use any Skills.

Because he realized his Magic Power was nearly depleted.

"Isn't it impressive?" The Saintess stood beside Anita, watching the battle before them.

Upon hearing this, Anita couldn't help but nod: "I've seen people who seem to have endless Physical Strength, but... but why is their strength so strong?

A year ago, those few couldn't even use Magic Power, let alone use it as skillfully as now."

"Really..." the Saintess murmured.

She had thought that the formidable strength of this group of Night Watchers had always been this way. After all, they needed to have some power to establish a foothold in the Eastern Wilderness.

"These Cultists just keep coming, if we keep fighting like this, we won't be able to get into the city. I wonder what's happening inside the city now," said a Holy Knight nearby, panting.

The current battle had nothing to do with the Church's Holy Knights anymore, as their Physical Strength had been too depleted in this high-intensity combat.

If they continued to fight, they would only become a burden to themselves and others.

In the distance, Blake killed two Cultists with a single sword strike, looking at the increased Experience.

It was certain that these were genuine Cultists.

He looked toward the distant city walls: "Attack, quickly annihilate the surrounding enemies! We must at least check the condition inside that city!"

The city had already fallen, and Blake didn't think they had the capability to rescue a fallen city.

But at the very least, before Kana and the others arrived, they needed to learn more about the situation.

Since their arrival, they hadn't had a moment of peace.

Cultists kept attacking them, and up until now they hadn't approached the city, nor had they rested.

"A real surprise... Blake."

A hoarse voice came from ahead.

Upon hearing this voice, Blake immediately frowned and tightened his grip on his sword. He couldn't identify who the enemy was based on the voice, but the enemy clearly knew his name.

His mind raced, and he quickly thought of the only possibility.

These Cultists were undoubtedly members of the Blood Race, clearly someone he once recognized.

"Eep!"

A cry resounded.

A huge figure descended from the sky, kicking up a cloud of dust upon landing.

It was a massive bat, large enough to be used as a mount.

"Blood Race, and such bats?" The Saintess frowned as she looked at the bat.

This indicated that the Blood Race attacking the fortress on the front lines still had hidden strength; otherwise, they wouldn't have gone unseen.

From the back of the massive bat, a somewhat slender figure leapt down.

Possessing the Blood Race's unique pale skin, pale to the point of a bluish tint, like a cold, lifeless corpse.

"You all have arrived at quite the inopportune time. The gaze of my god is upon us here. Kneel and pray, become followers of my god."

Blake didn't recall who this Tailor-clad figure before him was.

"Don't recognize me? That's understandable."

Upon hearing this, Blake, on the contrary, remembered who he was. Before the outbreak of the Blood Disaster, there indeed were several Tailors in the Count's territory.

They were the standard among royal members. Before the Count fully rebelled, he was part of the royal family and was aware of everything, naturally being assigned a Tailor.

At the onset of the crisis, the Count had unhesitatingly eliminated those Tailors.

"I know you, but shouldn't you be dead?" Blake asked, frowning.

Because he was among those executing the sweep of these Tailors, acting under the Count's orders alongside his father.

He had watched as his father beheaded this Tailor, who at the time was still wearing human skin.