Famine 83: Blackthorn Deadwood
by Cristae—Has anyone ever witnessed a mountain collapse?
Each tree rose like a black spear, thrust straight into the sky. The massive forest—majestic as mountains, vast as the sea—pressed forward with overwhelming momentum.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump…
The earth trembled.
Tree roots pulled themselves from the soil. The trees advanced step by step, in precise, rhythmic unison, like a legion of guards. Their pace was not swift, but relentless; nothing could stand before them. Any force that tried was as futile as an ant trying to move a tree.
“The Eye can even animate the forest?!” a player exclaimed in disbelief.
Si Zhiyan pressed his lips together and said nothing.
In his vision, the marching forest army showed the following information—
[Blackthorn Deadwood]
The warriors’ bodies stood firm in death, becoming a forest of straight, black trees. Even at the world’s end, they continue fighting for their god.
They, too, have something they wish to protect.
No—it wasn’t the [Eye] that had animated this forest.
Rather, every deadwood tree in the Blackthorn Forest was a vengeful spirit!
From the very beginning—from the first days in this world, in this very forest—the farm had already been surrounded by the uncanny.
Many players had tried to fell these trees, only to find the blackthorn deadwood unimaginably hard. When the bark split, it bled—a warning sign from the start.
The army of Blackthorn Deadwood closed in from all directions.
“Shit…!” Liang Qingshuang’s hand on the cannon grip twitched with cold sweat.
“Local fire coverage, ten seconds—prepare!” Lin Qiushui issued the first firing order. This would be a test.
Tak-tak-tak-tak!
A cloud of smoke rolled past.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump…
The forest’s advance did not slow at all.
Most bullets couldn’t even pierce the guards’ bark.
The crowd began to panic. “What do we do now?”
“We’re out of options? Aren’t there any other cannons? What about that Cola Annihilator?”
“Even the Cola Annihilator can’t finish off this many, can it?!”
As a chosen one, Liang Qingshuang’s eyes flashed—then he straightened up. “Wait! It’s not completely ineffective! Look, that one fell!”
Si Zhiyan followed his pointing finger and saw a tree, with a crash and a flurry of dirt, topple to the ground.
It still seemed “alive,” still thrashing, but unable to rise again.
The other trees ignored it, trampling it underfoot, quickly grinding it to a bloody pulp.
Liang Qingshuang murmured, “Why? Why only that one tree…”
As he puzzled over it, the clear, cool voice of the farm master sounded again: “The roots.”
Si Zhiyan had already noticed. “That tree’s roots were destroyed.”
“That’s it!” Enlightenment dawned on Liang Qingshuang; he slapped his palm.
“Right! The bark exposed above ground—no matter how many years of sunlight, rain, and mist have forged it, it’s tough as iron. But the roots, buried underground, are tender and can be torn apart by firepower! As long as we target the roots, we’ll bring them down!”
“But…”
Liang Qingshuang took a deep breath.
“But how do we hit the roots?”
The roots of blackthorn deadwood were very small; the forest dense, the trees shielding each other. Relying on the firepower net alone was never enough.
They needed more precise strikes.
Fittingly, this was just the flaw in the machine gun coverage—lack of precision!
The Bamboozle Machine Cannons themselves were accurate enough, but because there wasn’t enough blessed milk, there’d only been enough for the main battlefield. Every player here was using the cannons for the first time, aim was impossible. The rough fire net was only possible thanks to Sha Tong and Lin Qiushui’s hard work.
But Si Zhiyan had foreseen this.
“Brace yourselves,” said Si Zhiyan.
He stood atop the wall and raised his hand.
Rum-bbbble…!
With a violent tremor beneath their feet, the entire farm began to rise, as if on an elevator!
[Conviction in the Heart]
Teacher once said: “Conviction is a mountain in the heart—no one can shake it.”
The clever Xiaoming immediately wondered:
If I build my base on the mountain of conviction, wouldn’t my base be unshakable?
[Effect] When used, your farm’s elevation instantly rises 200 meters, placing it atop [Conviction Mountain]. Steep slopes connect it to the surroundings, with a spiral trail for movement between mountaintop and base. The core of the mountain is unyielding.
[Special Note] Crude conviction, when experienced first-hand, will eventually fall apart. [Conviction Mountain] can only last for 240 hours at most.
Even if you try to erase it, as long as you act on it, everyone will remember and have a sudden moment of realization—Oh, I see.
So, you can—
Perhaps due to its low price, this terrain-altering item allowed little freedom. The spiral path couldn’t be removed, halving the effect’s defensive utility.
Still, as Si Zhiyan had tested, the path could be made very narrow, so narrow…
Only one tree could pass at a time.
The vast Blackthorn Deadwood army pressed in from all sides, and at the foot of the mountain, a great bottleneck brought their march to a halt. The deadwood pressed together, jostling into order, forming a single file at the base of the mountain, queuing up the winding trail.
Nevertheless, at this angle, the cannons atop the walls still couldn’t hit the roots.
No matter.
Si Zhiyan had already set workers to digging caves along the spiral trail,
Lining up a series of… cave bunkers.
Each bunker held a single shooter.
Whoosh.
From somewhere, a faint sound cut through the air.
It was so subtle—like an illusion—barely flicking your ears, leaving you unsure if you’d heard it at all.
Boom—
Moments later, the leading deadwood giant toppled with a crash. Its remains tumbled down the slope, flattening its fellows.
In the swirling dust, its roots could just be seen, splintered apart.
Clack.
Within one of the caves, a youth in black calmly cycled his rifle’s bolt, a faint gray light flickering in his eyes; he smoothly re-aimed at a new target.
First on the Chosen Ones’ leaderboard: [Shijin Soul-Hunter], Shi He.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Shi He’s fighting style was always the same—detached, unhurried.
He was a sniper. When he pulled the trigger, there was no blinding muzzle flash, no explosive roar—just the muffled sounds of a silenced shot, easily lost in the drone of the march, not even raising a ripple.
All that moved was the bullet itself—merciless, slicing through deadwood like a knife through butter: precise, efficient, silent.
Wherever his sights fell, it was as though the Reaper set his mark—
Not a single ghost-tree made it past Shi He’s range upright.
Countless blackthorn trees toppled and rolled, domino-style, down the mountain—their mighty ranks stalled at the foot, unable to advance a step.
Watching this, Si Zhiyan was suddenly reminded of an old saying—
One man at a narrow pass can halt ten thousand.
On the ramparts, all were transfixed, envy and awe on every face.
Gao Zhai muttered, green with admiration: “Just one shot… just one… Is this what a top-ranked Chosen One can do?”
The blackthorn deadwood warriors seemed to realize this, too.
They halted.
Rustle, rustle…
Rustle, rustle…
The trees squirmed on the spot, odd and directionless.
After a while, two trees stepped out fearlessly, advancing onto the death road.
They moved strangely—one upright, the other inverted, carried by its fellow, roots stuck boldly out atop its head,
The whole display was a wobbling, ridiculous spectacle.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
Two shots. Both fell.
But as one died, it went berserk—forcing itself upright, it thrust out a branch from its crown, spearing it through the hole in the inverted tree’s roots!
A straight, whip-like branch lashed along the bullet’s track, pointing directly at Shi He’s cave!
“Damn!!” Gao Zhai shouted, face blanching.
Shi He’s position was blown.
Suddenly, the entire Blackthorn Deadwood force went mad.
From every crown, identical thorny branches snaked out—all wildly extending, lengthening to a truly nightmarish distance, twisting into tangled, gnarled masses.
They were so long now that even the lower layers, deep along the spiraling path, could reach.
Swoosh!
Hundreds—thousands—of barbed, jet-black, bleeding branches stormed toward Shi He’s bunker from all sides!
There were so many it was like a rain of arrows, blanketing the sky.
“No—!!”
“This is bad! Get that expert out of there!”
The players atop the wall cried out in alarm.
Within the cave, Shi He’s expression was unchanged.
Clack. Calmly, he chambered another round, sights settling on his next mark.
——
At that breathless moment, a violent crackle of fire and a thunderous tiger’s roar burst out.
A blaze of blue light flashed—dazzling sigils exploded overhead. A torrent of fire shot from the spell, halting the blitz before Shi He’s cave!
In the flame, many branches screamed, twisting, burning to cinders and shrinking back.
“Who said you could bully my little brother?”
Zhong Yanqing laughed, holding a spell circle in each hand, fists wreathed in fire, radiant with spirit.
Roar!!
Across from him, Wang Jianguo transformed into a massive saber-toothed tiger, swinging his head and biting down on the branches, his razor teeth shredding them to bits.
Then came the third, the fourth…
The North Team members encircled Shi He’s position from all sides, each holding the line a few hundred meters out, shielding his now-revealed cave with desperate defense!
They couldn’t fly—yet they hovered midair, positions hardly shifting as they fought freely.
The one clue was the pulsing blue light flickering over their bodies.
In another bunker, [Phase Magician] Anderson pulled his hat brim low, extended his right hand.
His white gloves and irises brimmed with blue fire—the mark of phase magic—at full burn.
For as long as Si Zhiyan had known the North Team, they’d always faced the world’s deadliest straits: the Eye, Nidhogg—the worst of the worst.
Perhaps that was why Si Zhiyan sometimes forgot:
Shi He was the highest-ranked Chosen One of them all.
The North Team was the most elite squad in the entire Famine Game.
In a crisis, these fourteen Chosen Ones were worth a thousand ordinary players!
And Shi He had not wasted their trust.
His calm, unhesitating actions showed his fundamental faith in his veteran teammates—
I know you’ll protect me.
So—leave the rest to me.
Whoosh.
A shot fired. Another tree fell.
……
Shi He didn’t kill every blackthorn tree, but it didn’t matter—the forest never reached them.
Under Si Zhiyan’s meticulous planning, the maw of the Blackthorn Forest had been locked outside the farm by this single razor-edge squad.
Beside him, Liang Qingshuang was thoroughly convinced.
“Establish a firepower screen, cover distant targets; engineer unique terrain to maximize the team’s effectiveness… Combining them, you’ve created an almost unbreakable defense… Farm master, your foresight is remarkable!”
“You knew something like this would come today?”
Si Zhiyan, leaning on the wall, smiled and shook his head.
“No way to know. But some things never change.”
Every meter of land, every facility in the farm had been designed and bought by his own hand; every group of residents, planned and welcomed by him personally.
To Si Zhiyan, watching this battle was like watching a program of his own code run fluently.
It was confirmation of all his efforts—and promised nothing unforeseen.
“Don’t let up,” said Si Zhiyan. “It’s not over so easily.”
……
Just as the battle reached stalemate, the temperature noticeably began to rise.
Si Zhiyan felt a twinge of dread. He raised his head, gazing upward.
High above, somehow unnoticed, the [Eye] was now fully wide open, staring down, so venomously, so intently, that its eyelid had nearly vanished. The eyeball twitched and swelled with bloodshot rage as it glared at them.
—It was angry.