Arknightcraft Modpack
Chapter 483: Another Player Enters the Game?
As they spoke, Steven and Talulah continued tracking the small squad, eventually arriving at the same village they had passed through earlier.
Perhaps because of the Infected's earlier visit, the village no longer carried its previous sense of peace and calm. Instead, the villagers had gathered together in rare unison, seemingly in the middle of a heated discussion.
And precisely because everyone was concentrated in one place, the village—whose defensive strength was already close to nonexistent—became an easy target for the Infected squad to slip back in unnoticed.
At the center of the village, nearly all of its residents were arguing fiercely over something.
"I say since they've already left, we should just pretend they were never here," one villager said. "They're pitiful people too, there's no need to make a big deal out of it."
"But they're Infected!" another shot back. "Who knows if they left something behind that'll infect all of us with that strange disease? And don't you remember what the soldiers said? If Infected are discovered, it must be reported."
"They didn't look like bad people though. There were even children about the same age as my daughter. They're all just struggling to survive on this frozen wasteland, why push them so hard?"
"So what?" someone scoffed. "Who's to say they won't sell us out later? You talk like they're saints,if something happens, are you going to take responsibility?"
"Ergouzi, that's crossing a line," another villager snapped. "I never said they were good people. I just don't want trouble!"
"Oh yeah? Who knows if it's because your thirty-something unmarried daughter has her eye on someone among them?" came the sneer. "I'm telling you, those people are sick."
"You—!"
"..."
The villagers talked over one another, voices rising and clashing as they debated the Infected who had passed through earlier.
Since the village had never encountered Infected before, most of what they knew came from rumors and vague secondhand stories of unknown origin. Despite the arguments, the majority of villagers didn't actually hold particularly strong opinions on what should be done, they saw it as little more than fodder for daily gossip.
Only the elderly man seated at the very front—the one leaning on a cane—remained silent. His gaze was fixed, worriedly, in the direction where Brull and his people had departed.
"Enough," the old village chief finally said. "We'll do it my way. Over the next few days, increase routine patrols around the village. Ross, you'll head to the nearest mobile city and report to the officials there."
He paused, then spoke slowly and deliberately.
"Tell them a group of refugees passed through our village. Don't mention Infected. Just say that they passed by. Understood?"
Though advanced in years, the village chief was still the leader of the village. His instincts told him that this matter wouldn't end so easily. To be safe, notifying the Ursus authorities was the prudent choice.
However, the matter of the Infected could not be revealed. Even if those people truly were Infected, the village had to act as if it knew nothing. Otherwise, it would invite unnecessary disaster.
The village chief had thought things through as carefully as possible.
Unfortunately, not many in the village were capable of thinking as clearly as he did.
Only Steven and Talulah—hidden in the shadows—nodded quietly in agreement.
If the goal was simply to maintain the village's peace, the village chief's decision was already close to perfect.
But the real problem was this:
The situation was no longer something he could control.
As the village chief's orders were issued and the villagers gradually calmed down, preparing to follow his instructions, the Infected who had slipped back into the village could no longer hold themselves back.
"I knew it, every last one of you damn villagers is rotten to the core. We already left, and you still planned to tip someone off! Fine. Since you're being heartless, don't blame us for being ruthless!"
The leading Infected burst out from hiding. Before anyone could even react, they rushed straight to the village chief and restrained him with their weapons.
In Steven and Talulah's eyes, the old village chief's decision had been the best possible compromise, offending neither side while protecting the village. But to these Infected, already seething with resentment, his words amounted to nothing less than blatant betrayal.
Contacting the Ursus authorities? They didn't believe for a second that these villagers would truly help conceal their identities. Once the movements of Infected were exposed, escape would be impossible.
Those words became the final spark.
Any trace of moral restraint left in these ill-intentioned Infected vanished completely. If the villagers had betrayed them first, then what they were doing now was nothing more than revenge.
Was it wrong to retaliate against those who oppressed them?
With that thought, the fully armed Infected quickly reached a consensus and seized the opportunity, taking control of the village chief in one swift move.
As for the rest of the villagers—startled by the sudden appearance of the attackers—they were subdued just as quickly. Facing people wielding weapons and capable of using Originium Arts, these villagers, who barely managed to scrape by day to day, had no room to resist.
The riot erupted in an instant.
By the time the villagers realized what was happening, the Infected were already standing beside them with weapons in hand. With almost no resistance or struggle, surrender became an instinctive choice.
Moments ago, these same villagers had been discussing how to deal with the Infected.
Now, in the blink of an eye, every single one of them was crouched on the ground with hands over their heads, shivering in fear.
Even the dozen or so Infected hadn't expected things to go this smoothly. Taking control of a village with several hundred people had been almost effortless—proof that perhaps they weren't as weak as they had always believed.
That realization caused their confidence to swell.
If taking over a village was this easy, didn't that mean that—if they were bold enough—seizing an entire mobile city as a haven for Infected might not be an impossible dream?
Even setting aside fantasies bordering on delusion, just the fact that they now held the power of life and death over so many villagers was enough to intoxicate them. Drunk on this sudden authority, they began to lose themselves.
"So it was you who said you'd report us to those so-called official armies, right?" one Infected sneered as he stepped up to the restrained village chief. "What we Infected hate most is betrayal."
Without hesitation, he slammed a punch into the old man's stomach.
They understood the need for a warning example. The best way to control a crowd this large was fear—and this old man was the perfect prop.
Not even waiting for the village chief's response—indeed, deliberately denying him the chance to speak—the Infected struck again, another punch landing in the same spot.
The old man immediately lost consciousness, collapsing limply to the ground.
On the frozen tundra, there was no reverence for the elderly, no protection for the young.
There was only one law.
The law of the strong devouring the weak.
"Now that we've caught your little conspiracy red-handed, as compensation—and as a reason for us not to retaliate—we expect you to show enough sincerity to make up for our losses. Any objections?"
One of the Infected shouted loudly to the crowd, brazenly twisting the facts. Everyone knew this was nothing more than an excuse to plunder the village's resources and whitewash their violence, but in the present situation, no one had the courage to stand up and stop them.
In the face of death, the villagers could no longer afford such considerations.
"Ridiculous. I said it before—you're no good from the start. Bandits are bandits. If you want to do evil, don't play the whore while trying to erect a monument to your virtue!"
Just as the villagers silently accepted reality, the same middle-aged villager who had exposed the Infected earlier suddenly stepped forward again, openly tearing the mask off the group's actions.
"Oh? So it's you."
The Infected who had been speaking didn't get angry—instead, a feral grin spread across his face, his eyes filling with hatred as he stared at the man named Ross.
"We hadn't even come looking for you yet, and you dare jump out on your own? Perfect. Saves us the trouble. Since you like being the hero so much, let's teach you the price of standing out."
In their eyes, this was the real culprit.
If this blind idiot hadn't spoken up, everyone could've just endured a few days, rested a bit, and gone their separate ways. None of this would've happened.
Piling all responsibility for their crimes onto this single villager, the hostile gazes of the Infected already seemed to envision how they would make him experience the cruelty of the frozen tundra firsthand.
Talulah finally showed an expression she could no longer suppress—one of deep pain—and prepared to step forward, intending to put an end to this scene that had completely veered into wrongdoing.
But just as she moved, Steven stopped her.
He raised a hand, signaling her to pause, then pointed toward the outskirts of the village.
"Don't rush. There's still someone else who hasn't entered the game yet."
Before his words had even fully settled, Talulah realized it too.
From outside the village came the sound of footsteps—chaotic yet disciplined.
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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[1] https://www.patreon.com/collection/55713?view=condensed
[2] https://www.patreon.com/posts/156361807?collection=55713
[3] https://www.patreon.com/posts/156361807?collection=55713
[4] https://www.patreon.com/collection/55713?view=condensed