Chapter 424: The Fastest‑Moving Episode

"Awesome!"

For today's Double Moon Struggle players, this is absolutely the most satisfying version they have ever played.

The first phase of the rear‑area Barbarian Plains Base has been declared complete, and the technology and productivity reserves brought by the comprehensive infrastructure are finally coming into force.

Consequently, in just a few short days, the mainstream gear in players' hands shifted from the stylish yet somewhat cumbersome hand‑crafted Winchester to the classic AK and M4 rifle families.

The sidearm at their waist, which forced them to constantly lift their coat to admire NPCs' horrified faces, also changed from a strange squirrel‑printed revolver to the world‑famous Colt M1911.

More importantly, given that officials from various nations have each sent Pioneers, and while they're exchanging intel and feigning cooperation, they have secretly already launched a high‑intensity arms race.

These few items have just opened purchase channels, and the "new weapons" gradually spreading among civilian players might already seem, to them, at least two versions behind the ultimate old‑calendar.

At least from the disclosures of contacts in the Royal Capital and Rosia, several types of Cold‑War‑era light weapons are already ready for casual use.

Unfortunately, this matter didn't manage to claim any top spot on the trending lists.

Because on the same day, White Eagle announced that its newly designed tank for the Sun‑Month environment had been successfully developed and is expected to be field‑tested by a few units within three months.

At the same time, during a routine interview on Huaxia's military channel, a continuous "boom‑boom‑boom" echoed over a distant mountain road, but due to focus issues only a blurry mechanical silhouette could be seen.

Tsk tsk, everything speaks for itself.

If money is a person's courage, then a gun that can snatch money makes one downright daring.

Thus, in the vibrant southern kingdom, a hotbed where all things compete, players who have normalized at level‑20 after swapping bird‑guns for cannons are racing to begin a new round of cultivation.

Yet when the southern kingdom map first opened, those useless Death God cultists and nobles could not dominate the players and could only hunker in castles, trying to preserve their authority.

Now, after two months of aggressive growth, players have exploded in both quality and quantity, and naturally…

What, the petty nobles in the trench want to scrape three feet off the common folk again?

No comment, hang them up and beat them!

What, those damned Death God cultists want to trick someone's daughter into marrying the River God again?

No comment, bind them and gut them!

Perhaps the Pioneers' earlier suppression is seen by these accustomed tyrants as the ultimate insult, nearly exhausting all their limits.

Yet for players living in modern society, this is barely enough to cover even their debt interest.

"Damn, I thought the 996 grind was already intense enough—how can there be a dog‑like thing that even raids elders' food supplies?"

"Fuck! This thing is clearly… you actually sell this to kids? I wouldn't even dare, you son of a bitch!"

"Damned, it's those viral articles' fault. I thought the nobles were a refined, kind bunch, but they're just cowardly, black‑hearted bastards. You'll answer for their lies!"

Insect beast: "Huh?"

So, faced with their self‑deluded belief that a counter‑strike can win a foothold, angry players will simply follow the level of exploitation and sweep through noble territories piece by piece.

Like violently training a dog, they punish every scoundrel they see, terrifying the snake‑rats into abandoning any hope of self‑preservation, forcing them to retreat deeper into caves, clutching each other's wounds.

Yet everyone is a lofty lord or divine envoy, feasting daily on luxury, how could they endure such squalor?

"Lord Count, those Pioneers have gone mad; you must arbitrate for us!"

Yet the Count of Yan Mountain, who leads this ragtag group after being "demoted" here for lack of ability, feels a pounding headache.

"Damn it, if I had the skill to deal with these lunatics, would I still be mixing with you country bumpkins?"

Thus, he never imagined he'd one day pin his hopes on the Holy Light Church, hoping its envoy could rein in these damned outsiders.

And so…

Hai Kemedia: "What what what, what are you writing and saying? Count, I don't get it! I really don't get it!"

Joke, the Sea Commander left the blissful idle life on Sacred Mountain only to rush down, truly believing it was just to hunt down the increasingly arrogant Death God cult?

If those petty nobles hadn't raised them as black gloves, underground allies, and even voluntarily corrupted local Holy Light believers, how could the southern situation have devolved into this mess?

Yet one must understand that the relationship between royal authority and ecclesiastical power has been a sensitive issue since the dawn of radiance, with countless magnates having crashed because of it.

So before the Sea Commander arrived, he'd been tangled with the Giant Pope for ages, debating the proper resolution.

If a single slip this time lets those tiny insect beasts get leverage and collectively send it to the Royal Capital for their own benefit.

The Sea Commander believes many high nobles will gladly take the lead, pushing the affair toward a heated spectacle.

After all, it also lets the noble circles<|channel|>...

Such a double‑win, even multi‑win, why not embrace it?

Yet when he arrived in the south to gauge the situation and factions, he realized he'd overthought it.

What a damn rights dispute—since someone's already fallen, can't I just sit back and watch the Pioneers slaughter those insect beasts?

So the Sea Commander thanks these oddballs for being too late, and how could he possibly help the petty nobles suppress the Pioneers?

"Ah, as long as you fish and nap, you can earn military merit with your troops—how could such a perfect thing exist in this world?"

He leisurely rode his celestial horse for a stroll, then fired a shot mid‑air, piercing the fleeing Death God bishop who thought he could survive by the skin of his teeth.

Yet among players, besides those who love pranks, a sizable portion are high‑difficulty enthusiasts who relish self‑torment.

These insect beasts, already hung up by players as pig‑slaughter targets, clearly couldn't satisfy them, so they all marched to Qixia City, rumored to be swarming with giant insects.

Hence, pulling off multiple crimes across the city in a day is a scale no single Death God crew could manage; many righteous heroes from these experts also take part.

Anyway, it's just a mosquito tactic—skipping around the high nobles' limits or stabbing at their secrets, giving them the thrill of a bathroom slip‑up.

Moreover, since they clearly aren't from the same organization, they have varied tastes and styles, leaving the nobles clueless about who's attacking them.

Consequently, some dim‑witted nobles, who recently unintentionally deepened their rivalry, ended up tearing off masks and clawing at each other.

In just seven days, similar incidents erupted four or five times, each blaming the other for starting it, nearly escalating to a duel where one must die.

Even Prince Philip, who briefly returned to the Royal Capital to handle affairs and set up his younger sister, almost got caught.

While being pursued by an enthusiastic noblewoman, he was also snapped by some sneaky rogue, who waved the photos around, claiming the prince was up to mischief.

Though such antics are considered a refined hobby in the Royal Capital, Prince Philip truly did nothing; why does his spotless record suddenly acquire an inexplicable blemish?

Yet seeing the convinced townsfolk and that aunt's excited "real‑hammer" crusade, he can't clear his name and must swallow the silent loss.

"Brother King, I trust you greatly, but…"

"QWQ no, I really didn't!"

I can only say the players are truly ruthless and black‑hearted, cranking up every kind of Machiavellian theory and journalistic technique, making the whole Royal Capital look peaceful while behind the scenes chickens are flying and dogs are jumping in utter chaos.

So much so that Ji Ming can't help but feel grateful he's smart; after fooling around in the Royal Capital for a day, he zipped back to ShanShang in an instant.

If I still dared to stay in the Royal Capital, the players might have easily found some flimsy evidence, turning the annals of time into a princess‑killer who steps on both Fiya and Eleanor's boats.

【Thinking, that's right, you're an important NPC JiMiYin, they couldn't possibly attack you like that, could they?】

"…Hmm, indeed."

【Right, right!】

"Considering my popularity and hype, if it's just like this, it's not enough at all."

"I should be fabricated as the old sister‑duo killer who took down both the Grand Archbishop and Lao Nv Shi; only then would it live up to the term 'scoop'!"

【…】

【Or are you just hard on yourself】

Moreover, the thing that made Ji Ming feel uneasy wasn't just that; the 'Big‑Headed Insect Beast and Little‑Headed Boar Southern Expedition' instance, which he thought would open after another seven days, actually got scrapped.

"Impossible, wasn't it supposed to be today? Why have we waited a whole day and no one showed up at the rendezvous point… uh, Eleanor, why are you standing at my doorstep?"

"Hm? Ah! I just wanted to ask, are we still giving the lecture tomorrow? Look, I've written a new handout."

"…Lecture, what else can we do, just keep lecturing then."

"???"

So Ji Ming lingered on ShanShang for a full week longer, and only then, through the hidden Grand Archbishop's spies sent to the Royal Capital, received word that they were ready and could set out.

But that was of little use; the army's secret deployment required covert movement for safety, and it had to be carried out by multiple units simultaneously.

All of this together still takes a lot of time.

On top of that, due to various reasons, the official departure kept getting postponed, management was riddled with loopholes, and accidents kept occurring on the road.

By the time the rag‑tag Southern Allied Forces finally gathered outside Jueqiao Pass into a single group, barely taking the shape of an army, it was already mid‑April.

At this point, Ji Ming had been lecturing continuously for a month and a half; students everywhere on and off ShanShang had attended his classes, so everyone who saw him no longer called him "Divine Chosen Lord" but switched to calling him "Divine Chosen Teacher".

Eleanor, who basked in the reflected glory, also polished her image to perfection; under Tenice's operation she was about to earn the title "the Devout", and her conversion was practically a done deal.

And precisely because of that, when he, under the banner of continuing his study tour, prepared to descend the mountain to relax, everyone in the church dared not object, quickly maxed out his stipend, warning him not to shortchange himself on the road.

Weighing the coin‑filled purse, Ji Ming, who had already learned to ride—or rather hypnotize—a celestial horse, let out a sigh.

Considering that Eleanor and Fiya's royal assessments have no set date yet but will definitely commence in May, he'll certainly have to operate on site then.

In theory the time was still fairly ample, but because of these insect beasts' delay, it was cut down to only half a month left.

"Damn it, these leg‑dragging things, can't they just die already…?"

But Ji Ming didn't intend to stage a "Love Horse TV" show, forcing an innocent horse to carry him across most of the Hui Guang Kingdom.

After roughly exiting the Royal Capital's airspace, he controlled the celestial horse to land, then activated a teleportation array and returned straight to the dungeon.

Anyway, the dungeon and the allied forces' rendezvous point aren't far apart, so this move was essentially a shortcut.

And when the Southern minor nobles and the Evil God Archbishop saw the Shadow Divine Chosen again, he was already a strange silhouette riding an undead celestial horse.

Relying on the Suggestion Technique and the game system as backing, Ji Ming felt his entrance still had the aura of a major villain boss, able to silence all the riff‑raff without saying a word.

Only these riff‑raff… aren't they a bit too insignificant?

In Ji Ming's imagination, even if the allied forces weren't as well‑trained as in The Lord of the Rings, with hordes of tough guys, they'd at least be fully armed, big and burly.

However, the bunch before him was completely squandering his blockbuster‑scale grand entrance, because those standing below were nothing but unsightly misshapen fruits.

The minor nobles' troops looked like a band of bandits escorting farmers, and given they were covered in dust and wounds, they probably just rolled in.

The Evil God Church's troops were an even stranger horde; the humorously black‑robed ones were tolerable, but those daring to show any flesh were eye‑burning—either painted like ghosts or covered in piercings.

Among the crowd, only Count Yan Shan's unit barely had any semblance of humanity, because although the Count himself certainly wouldn't wade into the murky waters, his chief knight showed up.

With such a strong leader, even if the group isn't all knights, it's clear they're all seasoned soldiers, making them far more reliable.

But having only a few as the core is useless; Ji Ming even doubts the allied forces could hold together, let alone clash head‑on with the players—just diving into the barbarian plains might cause them to fall apart on their own.

Fortunately at that moment, seeing their own Divine Chosen appear, the hidden Grand Archbishop led the Shadow Church army emerged from the shadows at the foot of the mountain.

Ji Ming looked out and instantly felt a sense of harvest‑like joy.

(End of Chapter)