It took Lin Feng and his group only half an hour to cover the fourteen-mile journey.

The camp's bonfire was still burning, and the patrolling Beacon Guards stood up to salute when they saw his figure.

Lin Feng waved his hand and walked straight into the central tent.

Zhao Hu and the others were having breakfast. Upon seeing Lin Feng enter, everyone stood up.

"Lord!" Tie Dun was the first to rush forward. "How was it? How many did you kill?"

Lin Feng sat down in the middle, took the waterskin handed over by Su Yurou, took a gulp, and briefly explained the situation in the stronghold.

Two thousand Yellow Turban Army soldiers, two hundred Strongmen, four elites, two Rare Bosses, plus that extremely disgusting Army Formation buff and the Ritualist's healing.

After hearing this, everyone's expressions turned grave.

"That Army Formation buff gives the Yellow Turban Army an extra 150 health," Lin Feng said slowly. "Combined with the Ritualist's Blessing of All Living Beings, they automatically recover 350 health when injured. I used to be able to kill an ordinary Yellow Turban Army soldier with one spear strike, but now it takes three."

Zhao Hu frowned. "Then what should we do? A head-on clash definitely won't work."

Lin Feng nodded, his gaze falling on the map spread out before him.

"We can only kill the ordinary Yellow Turban Army soldiers first."

He pointed at the stronghold marker. "First, reduce the Yellow Turban Army's numbers to under a thousand. Once their numbers drop, the effect of the Army Formation buff will be weakened."

"By then, even with the Ritualist's healing, I'll be able to kill them in one strike, giving him no time to save them."

Tie Dun scratched his head. "But if you charge in alone and get surrounded, what will you do?"

A smile played at the corners of Lin Feng's mouth. "I'll use skills to make my escape."

He paused and added, "Once we've whittled the Yellow Turban Army's overall strength down to about five hundred, that's when we'll launch a full-scale assault."

Everyone nodded after hearing this. Although the plan sounded simple, its execution relied entirely on Lin Feng holding the line.

No one was faster than him, and no one was better suited for this kind of guerrilla tactic.

Zhao Hu suddenly remarked with emotion, "Lord, if this were an Army Formation effect of several thousand people, combined with the buff from a Rare Boss..."

"If the battlefield wasn't here but at Beacon Fire Town, what kind of price would we have to pay to eliminate this enemy force?"

Lin Feng fell silent for a moment.

He had actually been thinking about this very question.

"With our current strength, facing a Level 3 Nightmare Tide of this caliber, we'd be lucky just to drive them back," he said slowly. "Wiping them out completely would be almost impossible."

The tent fell quiet.

The light from the bonfire flickered on everyone's faces, casting shifting shadows.

Lin Feng looked up and glanced around at everyone.

"Today's battle also made me realize one thing: the danger level of the Nightmare World far exceeds our imagination."

He paused, his tone becoming more solemn. "With my current strength, if I didn't run and went head-to-head with a Level 3 Nightmare Tide of today's scale, I would definitely be worn down to death."

Zhao Hu said thoughtfully, "But Lord, if it were a territory defense battle..."

"Exactly." Lin Feng nodded. "In a territory defense battle, the Lord can't run. Not unless they're willing to give up the territory."

He took a deep breath. "The Nightmare World isn't a place where individual strength alone allows you to run rampant."

"An Army Formation of thousands, the buff from a Rare Boss, plus those disgusting heals and buffs—all of these combined are enough to grind a person to death."

Everyone's expressions were heavy.

Tie Dun scratched his head. "So in the future, if we encounter this, can we only slowly wear them down?"

Lin Feng smiled. "If we can wear them down, we will; if not, we'll find another way. Use your head more; we can't just rely on brute force."

He stood up and stretched his limbs.

"Alright, that's it for now. Everyone continue with breakfast; we'll keep going in a bit."

Everyone stood up and took their leave.

Lin Feng sat alone in the tent, studied the map for a while longer, and then lay down.

This morning's battle had given him a deeper understanding of the dangers of the Nightmare World.

Those Army Formations, buffs, and heals weren't much individually, but together, they formed an insurmountable wall.

He closed his eyes, and the two thousand pairs of eyes in the Yellow Turban Stronghold appeared in his mind.

Rest for a bit, then continue the slaughter.

Once they're under five hundred, it'll be time for the final battle.

He rolled over and fell into a deep sleep.

Outside the tent, the bonfire crackled.

...

At ten in the morning, the sun was high, and the morning mist had completely dissipated.

Lin Feng stood alone outside the Yellow Turban Stronghold, gazing at the thick gray mist. After several hours of rest, his condition had returned to its peak.

The Wildfire Spear glinted coldly in the morning light, the Ancient Seal Script Runes on its shaft faintly flowing with energy.

He took a deep breath, his body flickered, and he leaped over the wall.

The thick mist vanished the moment he landed.

The two thousand Yellow Turban Army soldiers were still waiting in formation. No, there were fewer than this morning; he had killed three elites and dozens of regular soldiers earlier, but the numbers were still staggering.

The Yellow Turban Channel Chief sat on his horse, his tiger-like eyes wide. The Yellow Turban Ritualist stood on a high platform, a sneer on his gaunt face.

A smile played at the corners of Lin Feng's mouth.

Start.

With a movement of his feet, the five stacks of Windchaser from the 【windchaser boots】 were instantly filled, 【shadow dance legguards · Shadow Step】 was activated, and his Agility ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) soared to 34 points! 【Shadow Dancer】 was toggled on, increasing his dodge rate by 1% for every meter moved!

Three beams of white light lit up on him as he transformed into an afterimage, charging straight for the flank of the Army Formation!

There, over a hundred ordinary Yellow Turban Army soldiers were lining up.

The Wildfire Spear swept across!

-340! -330! -320!

Three strikes, and three Yellow Turban Army soldiers' health bars hit rock bottom! But the Army Formation buff gave them over a hundred extra health.

Blessing of All Living Beings triggered when they were at low health, +350! Lin Feng needed two more strikes to finish them off!

The efficiency was too low.

But he wasn't in a hurry.

His figure weaved through the crowd, his spear striking like a dragon! Every strike accurately pierced a Yellow Turban Army soldier! Three strikes for one, three strikes for one!

"Stop him!" the Yellow Turban Channel Chief roared, spurring his horse forward!

Formation-Breaking Charge!

A battle-axe swept across with the force of a thousand catties!

Lin Feng dodged to the side and struck back with his spear at the Channel Chief's horse's leg! The Channel Chief reined in his horse to avoid it, while Lin Feng took the opportunity to plunge deeper into the enemy formation!

The Yellow Turban Ritualist's wooden sword glowed with golden light—Decree: Exorcism!

A golden beam shot forth! Lin Feng couldn't dodge in time and was hit! -200! A Weakness status was applied, reducing his attack power by 20%!

He frowned as his health bar dropped to 1890.

But his hands didn't stop; the Wildfire Spear stabbed nine times in quick succession, killing another three Yellow Turban Army soldiers!

The Channel Chief charged again, even faster this time! The battle-axe came crashing down!

Lin Feng raised his spear to parry! Clang! He was knocked back three steps, -110!

Health bar: 1780.

He couldn't keep taking hits head-on.

He suddenly erupted with 【Blazing Spear Light】! Ten crimson beams of light shot out in all directions, killing the surrounding Yellow Turban Strongmen!

Then he turned and charged toward the weakest point of the Army Formation!

Killing and charging all the way! The spear light cleared the path, and the long spear reaped lives!

The Yellow Turban Army fell like wheat before a scythe! Thirty, fifty, eighty!

But his health bar was also steadily declining. The Channel Chief's pursuit, the Ritualist's ranged attacks, and the obstruction of the Yellow Turban Strongmen—every hit was draining his health.

1780 → 1580 → 1380 → 1200...