Famine 248: Age of Chaos

[Thirty Minutes Earlier – Famine Game – Main Battlefield]

Nidhogg unfurled his dragon wings, vertical pupils blazing like liquid gold. Flames streamed along the cracks in his greatsword, billowing clouds of smoke erupting in bursts.

Brandishing the sword, he sliced down from above. The massive blade in his hands moved with the agility of a rapier, charged with explosive power. He let out an unreserved battle cry: “Out of my way!”

Boom!

The greatsword struck the earth and detonated with a thunderous roar.

“Tch.”

Clearly, Nidhogg was holding back. Nie Du barely dodged the blow, clutching his arm as he tumbled out of the sky, rolling across the ground to take the impact.
His hood was long gone; cold sweat ran down his scarred face, and the charred-black arm from his past companion was wreathed in haze.

Gritting his teeth, he said, “No… I can’t let you disrupt Mr. Si’s plans.”

But in the brief time it took to say these words, Nidhogg’s raging flames already surged toward him again.

At the crucial instant, Alice reached out with all her might. Threads twined about her fingers darted out, swiftly seizing Nie Du and, though nearly exhausted, pulled him to safety.
The tongue of fire grazed Nie Du’s black cloak, igniting a large portion instantly.

Nie Du was forced to hastily strip off the cloak and rip it free before greater harm was done.

Click.
Somewhere, a gun’s action was cocked. Through the earpiece came Shi He’s soft, apologetic words: “Step aside, Commander Nie. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Alice yanked her own hair in frustration. “Ah—!! Wait, wait, that’s not right?! Hold on, hold on!”

“Do we really need to fight each other?”

——

Nidhogg landed slowly.

At the center of the battlefield, with Nidhogg’s molten flames as the dividing line, two opposing camps stood separated.

On one side, there was Nidhogg.

He hefted his greatsword onto his shoulder and said coldly, “Whether we need to fight depends on whether Commander Nie can quietly step aside.”

“I have a link with the Overgod. I can sense their spatial coordinates—they’re actually not that far from us. Let me through, and I’ll try to tear open a passage.”

“Don’t get in my way.”
Nidhogg spoke, word by word:
“We can’t leave Si Zhiyan alone in that cage.”

Wang Jianguo added, “Before the commander blacked out, he managed to distribute those… um, anti-mental interference trinkets.”
“If we go all out for one more round, we might not lose!”

Behind Nidhogg were Shi He, Liang Qingshuang, Gao Zhai, Wang Jianguo, and others.
In recent days, Nidhogg had fought fearlessly and earned substantial respect upon rejoining the farm’s combat ranks—many were willing to follow him.
Aside from them, the entire Springgrass Mercenary Corps was here, every single member present.

They were all people whom Si Zhiyan had saved.

They could not accept such an ending.

No one spoke much. Each bit their lip, head half-bowed.
The burning flames shimmered in the air, their desperate resolve seeming to visibly distort the heated battlefield.

But on the other side…

“Do you have a plan?” Nie Du asked next.

Behind Nie Du was the entire Skeleton Ferry Guard, along with Anderson, Yan Cheng, Sha Tong, and others. They led the bulk of the organized squads and the other half of the farm’s armed ranks.

Nie Du sighed: “No wonder Mr. Si specially called me yesterday and told me to keep an eye on Nidhogg…”

“I was confused then—thought there was little chance of you rebelling on the battlefield… Now I understand his intention.”

Nidhogg’s brow twitched.

After years as a leader, Nie Du was extremely thoughtful. He caught his breath, steadied himself against his scythe, and reasoned earnestly: “I don’t oppose saving Mr. Si. But after you tear open a passage, what then?”

“Are you prepared to face the Overgod? Won’t the energy of the World Fragments leak out? What if there aren’t enough fragments—how did Mr. Si plan to handle the Overgod alone? If we rush in, can we still use the cards up our sleeve?… This battle will decide humanity’s future; this isn’t the time for reckless defiance!”

Nie Du softened his voice, patiently explaining, “Who here isn’t worried about Mr. Si? If you can convince me, not only will I let you go, but if needed, I’d gladly lay down my life for the cause.”

“The problem is, charging in without a plan could have consequences we can’t foresee…”

“That’s enough.” Nidhogg cut him off, not lifting an eyebrow. “Why all the chatter? The world’s heating up because you lot can’t stop running your mouths.”

As the saying goes, you can never win an argument with a fool; all Nie Du’s words choked in his throat, nearly giving himself an aneurism.

Seeing no compromise, the tension—

—couldn’t be contained; both sides were about to cry.

—Now,
Should they wait here for Mr. Si to return, or risk everything in one last desperate move?

That was the real question.

When it came to matters of survival, the farm had always been under Si Zhiyan’s sole authority.

He was the farm’s master, almost a god to this world; every decision originated from him, and no one ever objected.

When Si Zhiyan was present, such a structure ensured every command was carried out with absolute efficiency.
But once something happened to him, the flaws of dictatorship became instantly apparent.

With Si Zhiyan gone, Yan Cheng’s attempts to hail the commander over comms met only silence.

The so-called anti-pollution gear turned out to be bright plastic barrettes decorated in childish cartoon motifs, the sort of junk you’d buy at a primary school snack stand. Packed in cheap, see-through OPP plastic bags, they were distributed batch by batch. Soon, everyone wore these silly, anti-psychosis “devices.”

But after the distribution, the commander’s channel fell into total silence.

No silhouette appeared in the sky.

After numerous failed attempts to get through, Yan Cheng had no choice but to give up.

He was forced to accept it: the commander seemed to have simply vanished.

And so, chaos erupted.

Everyone believed themselves to be right.
No one could convince anyone else; arguing grew heated, until it soon reached the brink of violence.

Neither Nidhogg nor Nie Du truly meant the other harm.
But neither had any other way forward.

Alice stood between them, powerless to mediate, unable to get a word in edgewise.

She had arrived too late; no one would listen to her.

Never before had Alice hated her own evasiveness and detachment so much.

Perhaps this was just human nature. In the face of great crisis, they could unite swiftly, but once the situation eased, or diverged in direction, chaos and infighting broke out.

It was such a tense moment! What were they doing?!

But whether Alice pulled her hair out or broke down, she was helpless.

—They needed someone everyone would follow!
Desperately, desperately needed it!

After so long, with everything already said, no words remained.
At this moment, a strange silence settled over the crowd.

In the hush, Nidhogg stared at Nie Du and slowly raised his sword, molten light flowing.
Nie Du sighed, fingers trembling as he gripped his scythe.

He had never shown it, so no one knew—Nie Du actually had mild PTSD from fire, a minor affliction dating to before the apocalypse.

But regardless, he would carry out the task Mr. Si had entrusted him with, to the very end.

All in the name of a shared ideal, beyond personal grievances.

Tension stretched to the breaking point; just a spark would set it off.

……

Then, after ages of silence, a faint burst of static came over the main channel.

“Hello?”

A clear voice broke the stalemate.
There was a fresh, easy amusement in it, as if it were the most casual greeting after a meal—utterly out of place with the current crisis.

“Mm. Guess we’ll leave it here, I really can’t get away right now. Yes, thank you very much, your goods are fine, I’ll send the final payment right away.”

“Then, that’s that. If we need anything else, we’ll come to you.”
“Pleasure doing business. Goodbye.”

Everyone was stunned.

The commander.

The farm’s supreme tactical commander had finally opened their mic.

But… what was that about?

Yan Cheng was dumbfounded: at such a critical moment—what were they doing?

Beep—beep—
Through the comm, the sound of a distant telephone’s busy signal could be heard.

The earth began to tremble.

Wisps of mist rose from underground, drifting outward.

The commander’s shadow appeared from somewhere.

Shrouded in haze, one hand in his pocket, he strode forward, standing imperiously at the very center of the battlefield.

Where the two sides were about to clash.

Deep in the fog, a faint golden glimmer could be seen.

Nidhogg was about to speak when Bian Xu flicked his fingers; vines burst from the ground between Nidhogg and Nie Du, an ocean of greenery surging up to instantly quell the flames and blood-red light.

Crack!
Nidhogg snapped open his dragon wings and surged forward, but the vines grew wildly, impossibly tough, binding him tightly in place, layer after layer.

“Huh?” Nidhogg glanced down in surprise.

For that instant, off his guard, he actually failed to break free at once.

Such strength!

A gasp ran through both groups; both sides shrank back half a step.

Though Nie Du and Nidhogg had pulled their punches, to suppress them both so easily—what kind of terrifying existence could do that?

Why had such a person gone unremarked on before becoming an assistant?

People feverishly searched the list of Chosen. But by now, all survivors were already at the farm, all Chosen identities already accounted for—yet not one fit this figure.

It only took a moment; instantly, the commander became the focus of all eyes.

Everyone waited to see whose side he would take.

He chose neither. Turning, he smiled at Nie Du, then walked over and, with his own hands, pried the vines apart and bent to offer a hand to the tangled Nidhogg—

“Sorry, sorry. Don’t take offense. Are you alright?”

His voice rang out bright from the mist, his motions uncannily carrying hints of Si Zhiyan’s manner.
He even offered Nidhogg a reassuring smile.

“You want to help Mr. Si, right?”

“I understand. Thank you. But now isn’t the time. We’ll need to wait a bit longer. Not for long.”

At once, much of the tension dissipated.
Everyone breathed a subtle sigh of relief—especially Nie Du.

But Nidhogg refused to yield.
Perhaps by some instinct, ever since Si Zhiyan’s disappearance, an anxiety had gnawed at him, making it impossible to calm down.

“Wait for what? How do we wait?”

Nidhogg cut the commander off brusquely, not even glancing at the outstretched hand. With a violent tug, he tore half the vines to shreds…

As everyone tensed, Nidhogg paused, and in the end, did not break free.
Destroying half the vines showed he could upset the table if he wished; leaving the rest was his way of allowing both sides to save face.

“Hmph.” In the end, he begrudged the restraint, letting the vines bind him, and muttered, “Who can guarantee that Si Zhiyan will still be safe while we wait?”

This was something unimaginable for the Nidhogg of years past.

The commander paused.

From within the mist, he gazed into Nidhogg’s eyes and nodded solemnly: “I can guarantee it.”

He said softly, “I am monitoring Mr. Si’s condition at all times. You can rest assured.”

“Bullshit?! On what, exactly, are you basing that guarantee? What are you monitoring with?!”
Nidhogg was incredulous. That sense of wrongness finally reached its peak.

Red-eyed, he glared at the commander and spat through gritted teeth:
“What the hell are you anyway? Why should I trust your word?”

Perhaps these words went too far; shocked and suspicious whispers rose everywhere.

Behind him, Gao Zhai couldn’t hold back any longer and keyed his mic: “Commander, this isn’t meant to sound harsh, but…”

“It’s just, when you say so much with nothing to back it up, it’s really hard for us to believe you!”

Wang Jianguo chimed in, “No offense, commander, but where did you come from, exactly?”
“How’d you show up so late, then suddenly become the farm owner’s assistant, and what makes you our tactical leader?”

“—Who are you, really?”