But everyone knew about Hilveld's quirky nature; whenever Tianlan curiously asked about this matter, Fang Hong would see her smile mysteriously.

And then there was no more to the story—

So much so that to this day, Fang Hong still didn't know how exactly those detestable Dwarfs tricked him into participating in the Continental League, nor how he won the competition so cluelessly.

He even couldn't help but wonder if those Ancient Tower People had problems with their brains; they couldn't even defeat a newcomer. What ranking were they exactly?

The absurdity of this incident had become a joke within the team, to the extent that even the composed Elf Girl couldn't help but grin upon hearing about it.

It was just like now.

Fang Hong, his face flushing, reassured him, "...don't worry, we'll help as much as we can."

Chris had not expected Fang Hong to be so easy-going and was stunned for a moment.

Having seen Fang Hong's matches, he naturally knew how formidable this young man was; this year, in the Continental League, the Iron Oak Duchy had nearly swept the opposing teams—Colin Ishurian squads defeated left and right. However, the only setback for the Cloud Sea division champions came at the hands of this youth, appearing for the first time on the field.

He had met those young top talents at the Elpaxin Artisan Association, whether noble descendants from the natives or new generation Invokers from the Grand Guild. They wouldn't acknowledge him, a son of a lumberyard worker from the forest area, who also lacked talent in Alchemy.

The Nobles looked down on these common-born apprentices, and the attitude of new generation Invokers from the Guilds was even colder; they simply ignored him as if he were air.

Naturally, Chris didn't know Fang Hong's real background and subconsciously thought he was also such a new generation prodigy; this was the first time he encountered someone with such a status speaking to him in this manner.

Moved, Chris gathered his courage and said, "Sir, I know where we got separated from Chief Protector, I can take you to him."

"No need." Fang Hong simply shook his head, "Just take care of yourself."

Take care of yourself? Chris was puzzled, still wondering what that meant, when he already saw Fang Hong walking forward and reaching his hand out into the rain.

In the distance, a flash of light from the dark revealed a Clockwork Fairy splitting the curtain of rain and steadily landing in his hand.

Seeing that Clockwork Fairy, Chris couldn't fail to recognize—it was this very Clockwork Fairy that had led them out of the encirclement of Dark Creatures earlier.

"Sir, you…" Chris was somewhat speechless, "You, you are a Combat Artisan?"

Fang Hong looked at him a bit strangely. "Yes, is there a problem?"

"Was it, was it always you who was helping us before?"

"More or less, but I didn't really help much." Fang Hong stated truthfully.

"But those Walkers—" Chris finally remembered, he seemed to have seen that Alchemist on the platform before; indeed, it was the young man in front of him.

So what about the teams from the Elpaxin Artisan Association? The professional craftsmen?

And who controlled those four Fortress-type Walkers?

He opened his mouth, wanting to ask more, but there was no chance left. Suddenly, a bright phosphorescence appeared in the forest ahead. Chris understood too well what those were—soul fires flickering within the hollow eye sockets of skeletal remains—these terrifying monsters had chased them to this point.

Seeing these things, his mind wasn't on other thoughts, as he couldn't help but anxiously warn, "Sir, be careful over there, don't let them get close; there are Archers among those Undead."

Fang Hong nodded.

He walked over to the Papalarians—patted the latter's shoulder, pointing deep into the forest. "Delay fuse, last setting, bearing thirty-two, three rapid shots."

"Leave it to me!" Parker said confidently, pulling back his Heavy Crossbow and taking out a narrow transparent Crystal prism from the Bolt Case, setting the firing mechanism to the last setting.

Then he raised the Heavy Crossbow, aiming in that direction.

Fang Hong didn't urge him. Although Parker wasn't very diligent on a regular basis, he was at least a professional Crossbowman. Fang Hong knew his own judgement on distances was keener than most, but when it came to seizing the moment to attack, he was far from the real professional Projector.

Atira pushed the still somewhat nervous young man into the house, while Chris just turned his head to see the Papalarian pulling the trigger, then rotating the crank to open the Crossbow Machine, loading, and shooting repeatedly three times.

He was still wondering what effect this shooting would have on those bony skeletons.

But about half a second later.

A burst of Flash suddenly exploded in the darkness in that direction; the young man instinctively closed his eyes, followed by the second and third bursts of Flash.

Then the booming sound and shockwave finally came from afar.

The rain was torn into a white surge, sweeping across the forest, lifting the rain cover on the back of the Gey Ridge Burden Beast, rustling loudly. The immense surge made Chris feel like a lone boat in a storm; he opened his mouth wide, disbelievingly opening his eyes.

In his vision, the wind was blowing the Papalarian's hair wildly backward, looking somewhat comical.

And Fang Hong stood behind Parker, one hand clutching the collar of his trench coat—to prevent it from being blown away, the other hand always slightly raised, maintaining contact with those Walkers.

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