In front of the players, a group of people appeared, both male and female, old and young, dressed in simple, plain clothing made of crude cotton and linen, holding pitchforks and hoes, with expressions of fear and terror.

These people generally had pale skin and thin builds,

The few men standing at the front were slightly better, stronger, holding iron swords and shields, seemingly the village guards.

"Brave adventurers from afar, we are the guardians of the Sacred Mountain."

An elderly man with white hair, leaning on a cane, stepped out from the crowd, looked at the players, and showed a somewhat obsequious smile, "Our village has guarded the Sacred Mountain for generations, welcoming and scrutinizing all pilgrims attempting to enter the Sacred Mountain for worship—although the last time someone came for pilgrimage was fifty years ago...

Anyway, can I see the Proof of Bravery you carry?"

Proof of Bravery?

The players glanced at each other, they had been directly transported by the System into the forest area of the script world, passing through the Stele Barrier.

From the sound of it, you need proof to gain entry to the Sacred Mountain?

The players silently exchanged glances, the village in front of them looked extremely backward and desolate, and the guard force seemed not very strong, Akira Tsuda alone could easily overpower it.

However, it's worth noting that all the villagers had rather sharp and prominent canine teeth, carrying a faintly distinct aura—a primal bloodthirst, a craving for slaughter.

Considering all these traits, they are likely a Blood Clan or Werewolf type of Dark Creature race,

Taking into account their pale skin and ability to appear under sunlight, maybe they are a severely degenerated Blood Clan group?

The Blood Clan Village Chief, leaning on a cane, glanced at the silent players, mistook their silence for hesitation, and smiled flatteringly, took out a small, exquisite, metal device that looked like a flashlight from his pocket.

"The Proof of Bravery is automatically issued once you enter the Sacred Mountain area, people in our village have it too..."

He spoke while clenching his teeth, as if enduring great pain, used the fingernail of his left index finger to gently cut a small opening on the palm of his right hand,

then squeezed the palm painfully, pouring blood into the groove at the bottom of the flashlight.

A faint bloody scent dispersed in the air, and the villagers behind caught the scent; regardless of age or gender, their eyes turned crimson, their breathing involuntarily quickened.

"Hiss..."

The Village Chief sucked in a cold breath, gently bit the wound on his palm, licking the blood without waste, pointed the flashlight at himself, and pressed the switch.

Buzz—

The flashlight emitted a dazzling beam, and the Village Chief along with the villagers behind were illuminated by the beam, and a line of brief red text slowly appeared above each person's head.

[Quarantine: Passed]

???

This bizarre plot twist left the players stunned, yet when the Village Chief turned the flashlight towards them, shining the beam at the players, even more bizarre events occurred—

Above every player's head floated the words [Quarantine: Passed].

What's going on here?

Ding Zhensi felt like he fell into a comedic and absurd comic world, but the lie detector function of the Kui Ox Mecha's sensors showed that the chief's attitude was genuinely serious, not lying.

"Phew, thank goodness, thank goodness."

The Village Chief wiped the non-existent sweat from his forehead, put away the flashlight, and turned to the other villagers shouting, "Put down your weapons, the brave ones have finally arrived."

The crowd became slightly noisy and clamorous, the villagers hurriedly laid down their weapons, their faces beaming with joy that seemed to express, "The brave ones have come, salvation is near, the brave ones have come, the village is at peace."

"It's windy here, brave ones, please follow me."

The Village Chief lowered his hand, which was healing at a visible speed, turned with a smile towards the interior of the village.

The players exchanged a glance and followed the Village Chief's footsteps.

The village was roughly circular in shape, with a small part built into the recess of the mountain body, surrounded by bluish-black mountain rock.

The structures in the village were mostly wooden and stone, but the architectural styles of each house were quite... strange, as if merging realities from Chinese, Japanese, Southeast Asian, classical European, Mediterranean styles, into one village,

And the materials used for decoration were various, including colored cement, glass, stone, iron plate, steel plate, crystal, luminous crystalline minerals, even biological scales—specifically, dragon scales.

Ding Zhensi's eyes widened as he saw one villager's house exterior wall adorned with several half-meter diameter quadrilateral red dragon scales as wall decorations.

Those dragon scales were dull in color, covered with deep cracks, clearly damaged, unable to be used as armor anymore,

yet scanner analysis results confirmed these were scales shed from a mature Red Dragon.

Aside from the dragon scales, the village contained a fair amount of "valuable junk".

Along the alley edges, there was a two-meter high, steam-punk style kinetic armor that had been completely scrapped;

A bell evidently a Taoist Magic Artifact used as a wind chime;

Hanging at the door was a Yin Yang Magic Sword;

Used as a clothesline was a near-future style Gauss sniper rifle;

These weapons and equipment, like the dragon scales, were aged and neglected, the heavy rust marks indicating these were at least decades old, completely unusable.

This narrow medieval village turned out to be like a World Expo, with everything in sight.

Li Ang, with hands tucked in the pockets of his white coat, looked around, amazed, casually using the Psychic Abilities among them [Group Sympathy],

emitting psychic threads, reaching towards his fellow teammates.

Li Ang: [Hey, hey, hey, can you hear me?]

Hoenhem: [I can hear you.]

Wu Dai: [I can.]

The Group Sympathy establishes a mental link among a group of people, which can be used to convey messages. Due to the differences in each person's mental state, the speech within the mental link can have a similar difference in sound.

Ding Zhensi: [What was the "Quarantine: Passed" just now? Why do we have that symbol above our heads?]

Li Ang: [The text of the symbol I saw was in Chinese.]

Wu Dai: [Mine was in Chinese too.]

David: [What I saw was in English. Hmm...if that's the case, the text itself must be in the native language of the Different World, but the System translated it into a language familiar to the players. Considering what the Village Chief said about the "Proof of Bravery" being automatically issued upon entering the Sacred Mountain area, perhaps there is some kind of plague outside the Sacred Mountain, and when foreigners enter the forest, they are automatically checked for infection. Only after confirming they are not infected can they enter the Sacred Mountain.]

Hoenhem: [The old equipment in this village should be the creation of the native residents. At least my Detection Spell shows that they are at least more than fifty years old. This is very strange. Generally speaking, a Native World's tech tree typically only has one or two branches because a civilization's focus is limited. If they have clean and efficient magical energy, they won't turn back to research inefficient steam engines. Unless the territories of this world are extremely vast with continents disconnected, or...]

Amber: [Or the owners of this equipment, like us, also fell from the sky.]

The conversation in the mental link inexplicably paused, and everyone's gaze turned to Amber, who subconsciously scratched her cheek, "What?"]

"Nothing much."

David coughed awkwardly,

Since entering the script world, Amber hadn't said much, always staying in the corner enjoying the scenery, leading others to believe she really was as the rumors said—someone who doesn't think much and solves problems with her scimitar.

David continued in the mental link: [Besides, there's another possibility. The previous Transcendents of the Different World, including but not limited to players, might have entered this script, and the items equipped on them were left here (of course, they might have died), picked up by the native residents here, and through analyzing technology, developed entirely different tech trees in various regions...]

[Umm...]

Ding Zhensi couldn't help but interrupt: [Aren't you all worried this village might be a pit stop? Specializing in harming adventurers, stripping them of their equipment and such.]

Li Ang looked at him strangely: [What's there to worry about? If this village is a place that pits and kills adventurers like a crossroads, how would they hang things used by generations of heroes around the village? That's too obvious. Besides, in all types of RPG games, heroes are the vicious ones who hold the initiative. At the very least, they blatantly break into houses, stealing fruits, vegetables, gold coins, chickens, ducks, and geese, all in the name of "raising funds to defeat the Demon King." At worst, they oppress civilians, bully them, dismantle villagers' houses for building materials, recruit villagers into their team, and then strip them of their gear, kicking them back to the village. We're not exactly good people, so what's there to fear.]

You speak as if it's perfectly justified to say "I'm not a good person!"

Ding Zhensi was at a loss for words, especially after seeing the other few nodding in agreement, not knowing how to retort.

Wait, am I the only one with a conscience here?

The group casually chatted in the mental link, catching the gaze of the curious yet wary villagers, who returned to their homes and closed the doors.

The Village Chief led the players into his home, ordering servants to serve tea and water, lighting the hearth.

The room soon warmed up. Sitting in his seat, the Village Chief looked at the silent players, awkwardly patting his thigh, "Where did all the bravery lords come from? Is it the Rosha Kingdom?"

Hoenhem smiled and asked, "Why do you say that?"

"Because the style of the armor that this brave lord is wearing is very similar to the kinetic armor unique to the Rosha Kingdom."

The Village Chief chuckled, "My grandfather's grandfather was fortunate enough to see a hero wearing the Rosha Kingdom's kinetic armor and even took a group photo with him. Here's the picture."

He stood up from his seat, picked up a photo frame from the cabinet beside him, and in the faded colored photo, a young Blood Clan member with a similar appearance was standing next to a tall and burly kinetic armor.

The style of the kinetic armor was somewhat similar to the Kui Ox Mecha.

"We come from a small place, not worth mentioning."

Hoenhem retracted his gaze from the photo, cleared his throat, and asked, "To make a long story short, Chief, can you tell us how to enter the Sacred Mountain?"

"The Sacred Mountain..."

The Village Chief rubbed his hands, taking a breath, and said somewhat awkwardly, "Uh, the thing is, our village had some accidents before, so I'm not sure if the pilgrimage process can proceed normally..."

Hoenhem raised an eyebrow, "Accidents? What do you mean?"

Through the Village Chief's explanation, everyone came to understand the basic situation of this world.

The script world these players are currently in is quite vast, with lands separated by oceans, and at intervals, objects fall from the sky.

These objects include building materials, mineral resources, weapons, mecha ships, paper books, and sometimes even travelers from another world.

The residents of the script world have long been accustomed to such daily showers of foreign objects and have developed their own tech trees by analyzing them—travelers from other worlds are not killed for being different; in most cases, they receive warm hospitality from the local kingdoms.

Compared to Earth, the residents of the script world have adapted to the life of being the hub of realms and take pride in it.

However, some travelers from the other world (according to them, many were passively transmitted here under inexplicable circumstances, some even as Otherworldly Civilians) also have a desperate desire to return to their original world.

At this time, they could cross the Heavy Ocean to the island where the Sacred Mountain is located, to embark on a pilgrimage—the Temple on the Sacred Mountain offers many trials and challenges for heroes, and if they succeed, they can realize their desires, such as being sent back to their homeland.

The native residents of the script world also have this opportunity to participate in trials as heroes to fulfill their respective wishes—such as resurrecting cherished family members and lovers or obtaining the ultimate knowledge they dream of.

And the village at the foot of the Sacred Mountain is the Guardian family of the Sacred Mountain. For generations, they have been responsible for guarding the Sacred Mountain, receiving heroes from all over the world, and proposing the initial trials to the heroes.

If they pass the examination, they can obtain the key to the Sacred Mountain—some hero teams, after teleporting away to fulfill their desires or failing the trials, would also donate their items to the villagers, which are the weapons and equipment that the players previously saw in the village.

"According to reason, I, as the Village Chief, should be the one to issue the trial content,"

The Village Chief said awkwardly, "Usually, my ancestors would ask heroes to venture into the nearby forests or caves to kill beasts or collect certain rare flowers. Then they would give the key to open the Holy Mountain Gate to the heroes. But now, the Holy Mountain Gate has been destroyed by a strange Magical Beast fifty years ago, and since then, no heroes have come.

If you brave lords want to enter the Sacred Mountain, you have to first kill that beast and recover the materials to repair the gate—this can also be considered the trial content from me, is that acceptable?"