NTR: Choice Based System
Chapter 261 - 261: Battle in Another World (1)

In the morning, the harsh mountain wind whipped across the plateau.

The shrill, echoing blare of a horn cut through the dawn air, rousing the huddled soldiers. They scrambled to their feet, grabbing weapons, their meager breakfast was hasten.

The leader walked in the front, his face hardened by countless campaigns, stood before them, his hands touching hilt of his sword.

"Listen up!" he roared, his voice amplified by the morning stillness. "An ultimatum came down from the higher-ups last night! We must take that mountain within this week! Within this week, you hear me?!"

His eyes, cold and sharp, swept over the ranks. "Failure is not an option! You must take that mountain! Go and show them who we people are!" He punctuated the command by lowering his sword and pointing it towards the enemy peak.

A guttural roar rose from the soldiers, a unified cry of "Kill the enemy!" They surged forward, a chaotic wave spilling down the gentle slope of the plateau.

The dry earth kicked up in dusty plumes as they ran, a river of steel and leather pouring towards the plain below.

Ye Yang ran with them, his senses on high alert. The system's warning about this 'World of Villains' and the grim reality of the previous night's conversation kept him grounded amidst the frenzy.

This isn't his fight so he has to survive and retrieve the world shard in any case.

As the leading ranks reached the edge of the dark forest, the air grew heavy and still. The wild shouts of the charge began to falter, replaced by wary silence. Then, without warning, the forest erupted.

Arrows, seemingly born of the shadows themselves, rained down from the trees.

Caltrops scattered across the ground, tripping the unwary. Hidden snares tightened around ankles. The war cry of the Crimson Kingdom turned into screams of pain and surprise.

Ye Yang reacted instantly. He wasn't running blindly like many of the soldiers.

His steps were precise, guided by an instinct honed by years of cultivation and real-world danger, a stark contrast to the raw, untrained movements around him.

He saw an arrow streaking towards his head and simply leaned, the shaft whistling past his ear by a hair's breadth.

Another aimed for his chest; he deflected it with the flat of his sword, the impact barely jarring his arm.

Men fell around him, clutching at arrow wounds or caught fast in traps. The initial charge dissolved into fragmented skirmishes as Shadow Syndicate soldiers, cloaked in forest camouflage, swarmed from the dense undergrowth.

They were quick, silent killers, preferring daggers and short swords for close-quarters combat in the trees.

Ye Yang didn't engage every enemy he saw. He moved with calculated efficiency, his focus on survival and progression towards the objective.

A Syndicate soldier lunged at him from behind a thick oak; Ye Yang spun, his sword a silver blur to counter the incoming attack.

The Syndicate fighter, caught off guard by the recruit's speed, barely managed to parry, sparks flying as steel met steel.

But Ye Yang's blow carried immense power, the kind not found in this world's basic physical training. The Syndicate soldier's guard shattered, and Ye Yang's sword found its mark, a clean, swift thrust to the chest. The man crumpled without a sound and blood spluttering like fountain.

Another enemy, seeing his comrade fall, charged with a guttural cry. This one was more agile, attempting to circle and find an opening.

Ye Yang sidestepped, letting the attack pass, then brought his leg up in a powerful, cultivated kick to the enemy's sternum.

A sickening crack echoed in the sudden lull, and the Syndicate soldier stumbled back, gasping for air, before Ye Yang finished him with a downward slash.

He pressed forward, using fallen trees and the chaotic melee as cover, his eyes constantly scanning for threats, both enemy and 'friendly'.

The forest floor was slick with blood now, the air thick with the metallic tang of iron and the scent of pine needles. The sounds of combat were a deafening symphony of clashing steel, pained cries, and the guttural roars of men fighting for their lives – or for the spoils of war.

As he navigated deeper into the woods, the fighting grew more intense. Small number of Crimson Kingdom soldiers were desperately trying to push through, meeting fierce resistance.

Ye Yang saw brutal acts unfold – soldiers finishing off wounded enemies with casual cruelty, others stepping over fallen comrades without a second glance. This truly was a world of villains.

He parried a jab from a spear, the force jarring his teeth, and immediately countered, his sword severing the spear haft before he lunged forward, ending the enemy's life swiftly.

He avoided a clumsy swing from a panicked recruit from his own side, shouting a warning that was lost in the din.

After what felt like an eternity of brutal, close-quarters combat, Ye Yang found himself in a small, relatively clear patch amidst the trees. The sounds of battle were slightly muffled here, though still close.

Five figures stumbled into the clearing, Crimson Kingdom soldiers, their armour dented and faces streaked with dirt and sweat. They were older than the typical conscripts, grizzled veterans with wary eyes.

"Looks like we got cut off," one of them grunted, wiping blood from his brow.

"Yeah, the Syndicate rats are thick as flies in here," another spat. He turned and his eyes landed on Ye Yang, taking in his relative youth but noticing the lack of panic in his stance and the clean, efficient way he held his sword.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" a third veteran said, a cruel smile spreading across his scarred face. "A fresh-faced recruit who hasn't bought it yet."

"Just my luck," the first veteran chuckled darkly. "Five of us old dogs surrounded, and one nice, juicy piece of bait wanders right in."

Ye Yang's expression remained neutral, but his grip tightened on his sword. He had expected this.

"Bait?" one of the other veterans asked, a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, bait," the leader of the small group confirmed. He stepped closer to Ye Yang, the other four fanning out slightly, cutting off his escape routes. "Look, kid. We aren't going to make it through this mess fighting fair. But if we put you out there, make a lot of noise, they'll swarm yak. Give us a chance to slip away while they're distracted."

"You'll draw 'me off real nice," another added, his voice casual, as if discussing the weather. "Give us a head start."

Ye Yang's voice was low, colder than the mountain wind. "You would sacrifice your own?"