I Became the Simp Character I Roasted Online-Chapter 46: White

They had been walking for almost thirty minutes since Mirael woke up and treated the injured

Marching blindly forward.

The fog was so thick that Revan couldn’t see the person walking three meters ahead of him.

For now, Revan can only rely on his hearing.

’This is stupid.’

For thirty minutes, veins had been visibly bulging on Revan’s forehead. He was absolutely furious right now— ah, no. In fact, he had been constantly annoyed ever since he ended up in this godforsaken place. It completely drained him physically and mentally.

He almost laughed.

’You know what, whoever’s writing the script of my life — I just want to talk. Really. Sit down, have a cup of tea, and discuss why you felt the need to add fog. Was the bone field not enough? Were the monsters not enough? — that all wasn’t enough drama for you?, fuck you dude’

He took a shallow breath. Trying to clear his head.

’But hey, at least the rain hasn’t come yet. Thank you for that much, God. Truly. From the bottom of my shattered ribcage, thank you for not adding rain to this disaster. Please keep it that way. I am begging you.’

As if on cue, a low rumble rolled across the sky. Then another. Then a third, chasing the first two across the heavy clouds like a line of cannons firing in sequence. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

Revan looked up into the white nothing above him.

’I was dead wrong. I shouldn’t have prayed at all. The god of this world is just toying with you, Revan. Wake up.’

***

Dain had put the column in a tight formation before they moved out. Single file. Cart in the center. Mirael strapped to the stretcher on the cart’s side , secured just in case she passed out again. Dain at the front with one hand on the rail, using it as a guide. Lyra on the left flank. Cassian somewhere behind Sylvia. The two guards flanking the cart.

Revan at the rear. Obviously.

’The position of honor,’ he thought bitterly. ’Also known as the first one to get eaten if something comes from behind.’

He couldn’t see Lyra andCassian. Could barely see the back end of the cart, and even that faded in and out as the fog thickened and thinned in irregular pulses. The only constant was the rail under his feet.

The one thing in this entire wasteland that could be trusted to still be there when he took his next step.

He kept his left arm pressed against his ribs. His right hand hung loosely on the hilt of his sword.

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Revan had stopped counting a while ago — his attention was too busy jumping between every muffled sound in the fog to bother keeping track of something as useless as time.

And then, the very thing Revan had been dreading finally happened.

The rain started without warning.

Within thirty seconds, Revan was soaked through. His coat, already heavy with creature fluid from the fight, gained another five kilograms of water weight. His boots squelched in mud that hadn’t existed ten minutes ago.

Ahead, the cart’s wheel shrieked louder. The cracked mount was fighting the wet rail, and the sound cut through the fog like a saw blade.

"Slow down!" someone shouted from near the cart. One of the guards. "The wheel’s slipping!"

"Ignore it! Keep walking!" Dain’s voice came from somewhere ahead. "We slow down out here, we die frozen."

’He’s right,’ Revan thought. Revan couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. Or his toes. If he hadn’t been channeling a thin thread of Aura through his core to keep his internal temperature from collapsing, he would have gone into hypothermia hours ago. Even with it, the warmth was barely enough. Like trying to heat a house by lighting a single match in the basement.

They kept walking.

The ground changed under his boots. Subtle at first — a slight softening, the packed earth turning spongy. Then less subtle. His left foot sank two inches into mud where solid ground had been a step before. He pulled it free with a wet sucking sound and kept going.

’Great. Now the rain is turning this whole place into a swamp.’ revan realized.

The Dead Zone soil has no root system. No vegetation holding it together. The moment water hits it, it just... dissolves.

Behind him — well, technically the two guards were supposed to be ahead of him. Revan was assigned the rear, but at some point during the march he’d walked past them without realizing it. The fog was too thick. He only noticed when the sound of their shuffling and grunting faded from ahead of him and reappeared behind him.

Revan stopped. Turned around. Couldn’t see them.

"Hey," he called into the fog. "Keep up."

Shuffling. Closer. Then the two guards materialized out of the white — one leaning heavily on the other, both of them caked in gray mud up to their knees.

"He can’t walk faster," the guard with the dislocated shoulder said. His face was tight with pain. Supporting a grown man with one functional arm on slippery ground was exactly as miserable as it looked. "His leg’s gone stiff. I think the cold got into the wound."

On one hand, that’s actually not bad. Frozen wound means the bleeding stopped and infection can’t spread. On the other hand...

Revan looked at the injured guard’s calf. The makeshift tourniquet was soaked dark. Could be blood. Could be rain. Hard to tell.

’We should leave him.’

The thought arrived cold. without guilt.

’He’s dead weight. Literally. Every minute we spend dragging him through this swamp is a minute the rest of us lose. Drop him here with a ration pack and pick him up on the way back — if there is a way back.’

He waited for someone to make the call. Dain was the commanding officer. Sylvia was the mission lead.

’But Dain — the old man is carrying everyone’s weight on one functioning shoulder and still won’t let a single body drop. Since when is a career soldier this naive? You’ve buried hundreds of men, Marshal. You know the math. One life for seven. It’s not even a hard calculation.’

And Sylvia?

That one bothered him more.

She was supposed to be the coldest person here. The one who would normally be the first to calculate the cost, weigh the numbers, and cut the dead weight without hesitation. She used to complain endlessly about efficiency, about maintaining operational standards, about not wasting resources on lost causes.

But ever since they entered the Dead Zone, she’d barely spoken. Her usual sharp tongue had completely vanished. She wasn’t being Sylvia.

He clicked his tongue.

’This is really, truly, incredibly inconvenient.’

"Give him to me," Revan said. cutting his mental rant short. Complaining wouldn’t do them any good anyway.

The guard with the dislocated shoulder blinked. "What?"

"Are you deaf?" Revan snapped. "I said, give him to me."

At the very least, Revan could manage his Aura better than either of these two.

He adeptly channeled his aura, dividing the flow to warm his body and reinforce his muscles. Of course, he only dared to use minuscule amounts with extreme caution, constantly mindful of his own internal injuries.

The injured guard hesitated. His mouth opened and closed a few times, his eyes darting between Revan’s face and the arm Revan was still pressing against his own broken ribs.

"I... are you sure? Your ribs are—"

"Jesus Christ, are we seriously playing twenty questions right now?" Revan cut him off. His voice came out sharper than he intended. Or maybe exactly as sharp as he intended. Hard to tell anymore.

He pulled the injured man’s arm over his shoulder. The weight hit his frame and his ribs screamed. His vision went white at the edges for a second. He bit down on the inside of his cheek and swallowed the grunt before it made it out of his throat.

’Yep. That’s about what I expected.’

Then he turned to the guard with the dislocated shoulder, who was standing there looking useless and relieved and guilty all at once.

"You. Watch our backs. Anything moves in that fog, you shout. Don’t think. Don’t confirm. Just shout."

The guard straightened up. Nodded once. Moved behind them.

’I hope this hell ends soon.’

They walked. Slowly. That pointless argument had cost them, and the cart had already pulled far ahead. Revan could hear the wheel grinding somewhere in the thick fog, the sound getting fainter by the second

"Dain!" Revan shouted. "Slow the cart. We’re losing the rear."

No response. The fog ate the sound.

"DAIN!"

"I heard you!" The reply came from further away than it should have been. "We can’t slow down, the wheel is—"

Dain never finished that sentence. A sudden sound cut through the fog. Not from the front. Not from the rear. Not even just from below. From everywhere.

A low vibration traveled through the wet earth and the heavy air, creeping up through Revan’s boots. He felt it rattle his teeth before he felt it anywhere else.

He stopped walking.

’You’ve got to be kidding me.’