79~Camping
“Team 46 has been completely eliminated.” The cold announcement had finished, and the Bald Male God, who was already rolling his eyes and foaming at the mouth, was unceremoniously dumped out of the Secret Realm, still making incoherent whimpering noises and unable to speak.
Tillysha glanced at the k*ll count on her token. She’d already taken out three complete teams, plus one Cole, bringing her total to thirteen kills.
That number was enough to get her noticed by now — even someone who ignored the elimination announcements would probably have her name drilled into their ears by now.
As per the rules, after six hours of the competition, the team with the highest number of kills would be marked on the big Token Map. Tillysha wasn’t the top k*ll team — another team led in kills.
Right in the middle of the red circle on the map was a clear number: Team 45.
It was Aistride’s team.
Currently, their k*ll count had already hit a terrifying 32, wiping out eight full teams.
It was an insane k*ll count, but for Aistride, it seemed normal. Her team of four was fully equipped, cutting through everyone without any casualties so far.
Even with their position exposed on the big map, it was no problem — nobody in their right mind would dare to mess with Aistride unless they didn’t care about their ranking anymore.
However, Tillysha could deduce based on their position whether or not they’d already seized the Crown Gemstone.
As it was, they were very close to the Crown Gemstone, but hadn’t completely converged with it yet — it seemed like they hadn’t obtained it yet.
After checking her remaining Divine Authority and preparing to leave, Tillysha suddenly stopped mid-step. She turned her gaze towards the wooden bow lying nearby.
It was Endy’s bow. After knocking her out, Endy was gone, but the equipment remained.
The skill “Sacred Tree Shelter” wasn’t active just because someone held a bow. If the bow was destroyed, “Sacred Tree Shelter” went into a cool-down period, needing five hours to regenerate its realm capability. During this time, even if the user had the bow, “Sacred Tree Shelter” wouldn’t activate. The realm would only retain a small portion of its protective attributes.
Tillysha decided to take the bow as a precaution. If this was going to be a long fight, the reserve bow just might come in handy.
Truthfully, Tillysha was a bit hesitant to carry another bow. In the other-world novels she’d read in her previous life, everyone seemed to have these magical storage rings where you could just shove anything in.
But on the Caleburn continent, space and time were incredibly high-end things. Only those mages who had deep expertise in Spatial Magic or Divine Goddesses with control over space could handle such things.
How rare were these spatial items? So rare, in fact, that they didn’t even show up on the black market auctions.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that, in front of enchantment items of this caliber, gold coins were just worthless scraps of metal.
So, to carry an extra bow, that was on her.
She already carried quite a lot. Tiny glass vials of white potion hung from her impossibly slim waist, while flat round red potions hung on her back waist. Long grey bottles were strapped to her smooth thighs, embedded in her white silk stockings.
Yellow tubes hung from the outside of her shapely thighs, and icy blue potions with frosty surfaces hung lower down near her buttocks.
Tillysha started feeling her legs could double as a Christmas tree at this point.
Every alchemical potion was externally attached, and she was even slightly worried that they might break if she took damage. But it turned out her concerns were unnecessary. Alchemy had come a long way over the years. The pioneers in the field had thought of far more than she could ever imagine, and all the potions she’d acquired through daily check-ins and treasure pulls were specially treated. As long as the protective capsule around the glass was intact, the potion wouldn’t be harmed.
It was a significant competition, so Tillysha, naturally, had brought everything she’d ever accumulated. Whether it was from daily check-ins or prize pools, she’d strapped on everything she could.
She hoisted the bow and continued forward, the golden-haired girl with white stockings and bare feet braving the sandstorm.
Just as she expected, the northern route grew increasingly desolate. There were no more signs of green from vegetation.
The lack of forest cover had its advantages and disadvantages. Aistride, despite being an Elf, could still reap benefits in a forest environment, whereas in a barren land, her team’s effectiveness would decrease considerably. The same applied to Tillysha.
For the following battles, she figured she shouldn’t just jump into fights at whim — she’d try her best to avoid them.
In terms of ability management, Tillysha was also keeping an eye on things. She felt that constantly picking fights would eventually deplete her Divine Authority, which could be extremely embarrassing when fighting the final enemy.
The point of “playing chicken” was about tactics after all. You shouldn’t force a fight if you can’t win.
As she walked on, the full panorama of the wilderness valley unfolded in Tillysha’s vision. Endless peaks stretched ahead, their outlines crimson under the glow of the setting sun.
Night fell.
After walking all day and engaging in multiple skirmishes, even a goddess would be worn out. Both her physical strength and stamina were nearing their limits. Tillysha glanced up at the mountains gradually enveloped in darkness and decided to find a place to rest for the night — though knowing that it probably wouldn’t be too peaceful.
Most teams were exhausted after a full day of fighting, both mentally and physically drained. Most would let their guards down at this time, while a smaller group would be preparing for an assault out of the shadows.
These “shadow fighters” spent the day hiding, conserving their energy, waiting for other teams to get worn out before they emerged to clean up.
Such “sixth players” couldn’t be underestimated, so Tillysha decided not to rest inside the mountain. Instead, she’d camp out in some hidden spot.
This so-called camp was nothing more than a tattered blanket. She couldn’t even light a campfire. Thus, alone, under a small hill, she set up camp.
Sitting cross-legged on the blanket, Tillysha munched on dried meat, her white-golden silk-like hair wrapped around in her arms, looking from afar like a little squirrel munching on nuts.
Expressionless, Tillysha chewed on the overly dry, cold meat, her soft cheeks puffing up and down rhythmically as she grinded her teeth. At the same time, her cherry lips parted slightly as she muttered, “This is tasteless…”
The dried meat tasted like wood shavings — though she had never eaten wood shavings.
Elves, by nature, had a certain aversion to meat. For their taste buds, regardless of how it was processed, meat always carried a strong fishy smell, but it wasn’t unbearable.
She’d found the meat in the bag of Ratsman. With no money to stockpile food, Tillysha was left searching enemy drops for nourishment.
She took a sip from the water bottle she’d snatched from Aileen.
Thanks to these enemy supplies, at least she didn’t starve in the Secret Realm.
“I’ve finished eating. I thank everyone for the hospitality,” said Tillysha, feeling a bit guilty because everything she’d eaten and drank was stolen from others. Once done, she neatly placed down the water bottle and food and prayed quietly.
Afterwards, Tillysha carefully wiped her mouth with a handkerchief. Even though it was a rough and humble meal, she managed to eat with an elegance that would rival a banquet feast.
