"Quick, friends from Silver Weslan, we'll cover you!"

At the other end of the ravine was a slope, and those people were waving at them from the slope and shouting loudly.

The knights of Silver Weslan protected the spellcasters in the team as they quickly crossed the bridge; the people above immediately sprang into action, yelling as they used ropes to pull down another spire. The spire collapsed with a crack from the slope, breaking the bridge over the ravine and sending it plummeting into the abyss.

Many undead fell with it, shattering to pieces, while the rest were blocked on the other side of the ravine. Some ghosts could still fly over the ravine, but they were no longer a threat. Before the crossbow shooters and rangers of Silver Weslan could even turn around, a barrage of magic arrows flew from the slope, shooting down these ghosts into the cliff.

As incorporeal beings, ghosts could only be harmed by magic arrows—a fact many rookie Invokers often forgot, resulting in panic when facing such monsters. However, the small guilds and adventure groups that had made it this deep were naturally no commoners; they had prepared everything ahead of the ambush and came well-equipped, achieving a spectacular effect.

Only then did cheers come from the people on the slope. Seeing this scene, they high-fived each other to celebrate their victory.

This scene also infected all those who were watching the live broadcast, from Dragon Horn Hall to Golande, from Elpaxin to Eldron, whether they were adventurers or citizens, officials or the royal household, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and then sporadic applause began to emerge from the crowd, eventually swelling into a storm of clapping.

What they saw was not just selfless mutual assistance.

It was heroism.

A few Chosen slid down from the slope, one of them came straight to Fang Hong and extended his hand with a grin, "Paradise is late, just by a little bit."

Fang Hong shook his hand, "Xiaya, thank you."

"Don't mention it, it's actually thanks to you guys attracting the undead to the other side that we got the chance to set up the ambush," the man was candid and outspoken, "and it also saved our lives. Otherwise, we'd have been in a lot of trouble if those undead had surrounded us."

Another person came forward, introducing himself, "Gabriel—long story short, we shouldn't stay here long, let's walk and talk about the current situation."

Fang Hong nodded. He took out his pocket watch to check the time, eight and a half minutes, the second island was basically breached, and there was just over half the time left, but he was not optimistic, as he could imagine that each subsequent island would be even harder than the previous one.

It didn't take long for the group to set foot on the third Light Bridge. Gabriel and Paradise briefed them on their current situation, which turned out to be pretty similar to what the group had already understood. These small guilds were attacked by Night Lizard People following the orders of the Jiefulite Red Cloak Team shortly before the earthquake hit.

However, the luckier part for the two of them was that they hadn't lost much in the earthquake and the two teams were relatively close to one another; hence, they joined forces to overcome the difficulties, which was why so many of them survived.

Indeed, the number of these people was not small, adding up to the strength of a whole team (eighty people), only slightly more than the team from Silver Weslan, and the comparison with Eternal Night and his members, who were left with just over ten people after the undead assault, was telling.

"There is a period of weakness after the Berserk Potion, let us take the lead on the third island," suggested Paradise, walking on the Light Bridge, turning to Fang Hong, "Our strength may not match yours, but with so many of us together, we should be able to push through an opening with one concerted effort."

Fang Hong was somewhat surprised to hear this.

This was the Dead Silence Zone, where there was no Starlight resurrection after death, but from the other's tone, he was ready to sacrifice himself as cannon fodder.

There might always be those who do not lack courage, but he represented not just himself but also the two teams behind him, over eighty Chosen. Fang Hong couldn't help but look towards Gabriel, who was much more rational and replied:

"We only have a slim chance if we gamble with our lives; otherwise, the outcome wouldn't be any different. Therefore, all of us have made the decision to fight desperately. Even if we really end here, Stargate Port will give us a special reward."

He glanced at the others, took a deep breath and said, "Besides, as Chosen, who wouldn't want to be a hero for once?"

Though the words were uttered plainly, they were profoundly moving.

At least Fang Hong saw the bright Flash in those people's eyes.

That light was excitement and innocence because it was nothing more than each person's childhood dream—to become a hero.

Once upon a time, they hoped to become noble and upright knights, wise and powerful wizards, uninhibited rangers, hoping to be the protagonist of those fairy tales—righting wrongs and detesting evil.

But as they grew older, childhood dreams gradually faded away, except for the true dreamers who came to this world.

That was Fang Hong's original intention.

Maybe it was theirs too.

People may have forgotten, but when their blood surged, they remembered that initial touch, reclaimed their ideals, and turned them into swords to charge ahead without looking back.

All entanglements of interests, life and death gambles, were cast aside at this moment—

Fang Hong nodded slightly.

The third Light Bridge was not long, a hundred meters vanished in a blink of an eye.

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