"Why are you helping me?"
John looked at this message in his private chat channel and couldn't help but chuckle.
"I'm saying this because it's a team battle. If your fortress falls, my side won't fare well either. I'm not really helping you; I'm helping myself."
Isabella saw this message and her lips curved slightly upwards.
If John had said something overly righteous, she might have found it hard to believe.
But his straightforwardness made her trust him more.
Indeed, if one of the three fortresses fell, the other two would definitely face increased pressure!
"I can't get in touch with the third fortress right now. If you can reach them, please pass on this message."
John sent a few more bottles of monkey wine.
Although the wine was indeed rare, if it could help them get through this challenge, it would be worth it.
After all, this was a team battle, not a solo fight.
Isabella didn't respond, just quietly accepted the bottles.
She could indeed contact the third fortress and hadn't expected that the commander there would be Cecilia.
Cecilia was quite surprised upon receiving the news.
She had already investigated the healing room and the forge.
There were indeed two initial NPCs there, but their attitudes were quite indifferent.
However, their resource point was energy stones!
It was black iron ore and borax that might be in shorter supply.
With Isabella's help, John was able to establish contact with Cecilia.
Learning about the situation at her fortress, he couldn't help but roll his eyes.
It seemed he really had the worst luck!
Although the three fortresses were meant to balance each other, sharing resources as needed, he could see that what was abundant in one was scarce in the others.
Yet, upon hearing that Cecilia's side had upwards of ten thousand energy stones, he couldn't help feeling a bit jealous.
On his side, even a few precious energy stones had to be carefully conserved.
Meanwhile, for others, they were hardly a concern! It felt like his luck was the worst among the three fortresses.
The three commanders quickly set up a small chat group to coordinate.
After assessing her fortress, Cecilia shared her findings first.
Everyone was busily preparing, anxiously awaiting the countdown to end.
As the countdown entered the final 24 hours, John was diligently honing his Bloodthirsty Blade.
He had grown incredibly attached to this demonic blade.
Not only because of its astonishing attributes but also because of its now striking appearance.
The blood-red Dragonblood Stone had become the eyes of the Bloodthirsty Blade.
With each slight swing, it seemed as if those eyes were fully opening, emitting a crimson glow.
John considered himself not typically focused on appearance, but even he couldn't help but marvel at the blade, deeming it a true divine artifact!
The countdown was rapidly dwindling.
On the night before, everyone took proper rest, preparing for the day to come.
None of them knew what the next day would hold, but the only thing they could do was ensure they were in the best possible condition.
Only by being at their best could they strive to achieve everything possible!
By early the next day, as the sun just began to rise, the entire fortress was bursting with life.
Everyone was organizing their gear and checking their supplies.
The logistics teams were weaving through each group.
Over a thousand combat teams were evenly distributed along the fortress walls.
Others were assigned as part of the logistics unit or as reserve members.
John stood atop the fortress wall, clutching his staff as he gazed at the distant horizon.
A sudden, unfamiliar anxiety gripped him.
This was a feeling he had never experienced before, not even when facing bosses in solo combat.
He remembered what Isabella had told him about the changes in corpse regeneration rates, and almost instinctively, he cautioned: "Tell the people below to conserve their strength. If they sense danger, even retreating is better than dying up there! We absolutely cannot afford to lose anyone!"
He had a nagging feeling that if anyone died this time, something terrible would happen, though he couldn't quite articulate why.
Archibald chuckled, assuming John was simply being protective of his team, not wanting them to lose their qualification for the competition.
He nodded in agreement.
"Don't worry, they know what they're doing. Unless absolutely necessary, they won't jeopardize their standing in the competition," Archibald said with a slight smile, looking around at the bustling crowd gearing up for action.
But John pursed his lips, watching everything unfold before him.
Was this situation really as simple as it seemed?
What exactly was going on with the slowed corpse regeneration rate?