Hugo, the leader of the approaching group, raised his arm, signaling his companions to halt. Their eyes fixated on the three figures ahead, who, seemingly unconcerned, made no move to flee. A thought crossed Hugo's mind—could they have set traps?

He frowned as he scrutinized the barren earth between them, searching for any signs of concealed danger, but nothing caught his attention.

“Hugo, what’s the hold-up? Shouldn’t we be going after them?” queried a man clad in silver full-body armor.

“These guys might have laid a trap,” Hugo replied, casting a quick glance at the speaker. “Look at them, just standing there, practically inviting us to catch them. Doesn't that strike you as suspicious?”

“Always so cautious, Hugo. You’re strong; you don’t need to be so paranoid,” retorted another man, folding his arms across his chest.

Hugo scowled, fixing a piercing gaze on the slender figure. “Not everyone can afford to be reckless like you, Jet. Maybe you've forgotten, but back on Earth, I used to smuggle people across borders. I can sense when something’s off.” He pointed at the trio ahead. “Trust me, there's something off about those guys.”

Jet scoffed and stepped forward, spear in hand. “You're right, I don't remember. Since you're not going to go, I'm sure there are others like me who want the bounty on their heads,” he said, his deep-set eyes scanning the group.

Twelve bearers of death advanced, and Hugo's countenance darkened. Jet giggled, tapping Hugo on the shoulder. “Wait for us; we'll be back shortly. Okay?”

Hugo shrugged off the hand of the laughing man, observing as the group approached their target with confident strides.

“Hugo, what should we do?” a middle-aged man asked.

“Let's get out of here. I have a bad feeling about those guys, especially the one with the mask,” Hugo replied.

The men exchanged glances and, with a helpless sigh, stored their weapons in their inventory.

“I'm sorry, boys. I won't stop anyone who wants to go after them,” Hugo said.

“Who in their right senses would ignore those super instincts of yours?” a man said, shaking his head.

“Well, those fools certainly did,” another man declared, a broad smile spreading across his face, drawing chuckles from the rest of the group.

Another man joined the conversation, a smile playing on his lips as he observed Jet and the others. “I'm almost tempted to stick around and see what's going to happen to those guys. Last time I ignored your warnings, I nearly got raped by those ogres. Now, that I think about it, I'd rather not find out what's in store this time.”

Laughter erupted from various corners of the party, even Hugo couldn't maintain his stoic demeanor. “Let's get out of here before it's too late.”

With a final glance at Jet's group, Hugo led the seasoned team towards the east.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Scott, Slim, and Zara engaged in a debate while Hugo and Jet exchanged words.

“How will we know who took down whom?” Scott asked, tossing three mana recovery potions to Slim. He, in turn, accepted the stamina bars Zara handed over.

“That's not an issue. We just need to set up a counter,” Slim replied, downing the potions in one gulp. He opened his status screen as the mist broke down the supplements, then entered a series of commands. A system window materialized in front of Scott and Zara.

You have been invited to participate in a competition by a party member! Terms Eliminate the most monsters and assailants within 24 hours! Rewards Party leader position. Exclusive rights to name the party. Do you wish to participate in the competition? Yes! No!

Scott’s lips twisted to the side as he read the system message. I didn’t know it was possible to do this. But there might be a need to amend these terms.

“So, what do you guys think?” Slim asked with a smile.

“I think we should amend the terms,” Scott said. “There’s a high probability that imp didn’t tell us everything. Who knows what’s going to happen to us if we killed a person with the same mark. I’m sure you guys don’t want to risk it, right?”

Slim and Zara agreed with a nod. The imp had shown itself to be too mischievous to leave anything to chance.

“I’ll modify it,” Slim said as he keyed in a series of new commands. Then, another system message appeared in front of the trio.

You have been invited to participate in a competition by a party member! Terms Eliminate more monsters than the other participants or subdue more assailants within 24 hours! Rewards Party leader position. Exclusive rights to name the party. Do you wish to participate in the competition? Yes! No!

The trio instantly accepted the invitation, and a small counter with the number, zero, appeared above their right hands. Slim giggled, leaning against his scythe as he stared at the counter. “Those guys won’t know… huh? What’s going on with them?”

To their surprise, the group had split into two, one remained motionless, while the other approached with confident strides.

“Do you think they’re planning something?” Zara asked with a frown.

“It doesn’t matter,” Slim said, his grip tightening around the scythe’s handle. “We just need to beat them. Then we’ll handle… What the hell is going on?” the skeleton frowned, watching as Hugo’s group retreated eastwards.

The trio stared at each other, confused by the sudden turn of events. “Did they have some kind of internal conflict?” Zara echoed her thoughts.

“We should be careful. It’s impossible to know what these guys are planning,” Scott said.

“Well, whatever it is, these bozos chose the wrong people to mess with. You guys should remember not to kill them, okay?” Slim said with a smile.

Scott rolled his eyes. “You do realize you’re the only one holding a weapon, right?”

The necromancer smacked his forehead in embarrassment, sending the deathly item into his inventory. Suddenly, the passionate voice of a spear-wielding man reached them. “Oh là là. I didn’t know there was a cutie here.” Jet grinned, his amber eyes fixed on the curvaceous feline. He licked his lips, pulling his hair back with his free hand as he quickened his pace.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Zara frowned, glaring at the lascivious man. The spearman in the bodysuit spoke again. “To think we’d see a cat girl here of all places. Come here, baby. I have a big stick perfect for those hands of yours, and it comes with a pair of balls too.”

Giggles erupted from the surrounding champions as Jet thrust his hips and spear back and forth. The corner of Zara’s lips raised into a smile as she turned toward Scott and Slim. “That one, please leave him to me.”

“He’s all yours,” Scott said, his arms folded across his chest. Slim nodded, giving the brawler a thumbs up.

Zara turned toward Jet again, cracking her neck as she approached in short steps.

“Baby, I knew you couldn’t resist my offer. Trust me, you’re going to have the best two minutes of your life by the time I’m done with you.”

The surrounding champions erupted in laughter once again, some tearing up as their stomachs cramped. Despite the tomfoolery and shenanigans, Jet's hawk-like eyes remained fixed on the approaching brawler, his grip tightening around the hilt of the spear.

It looks like my taunts are working, he snickered to himself as the cat girl sprinted toward him.

“Hey, Jet, need any help with her?” someone asked.

“Nah, I got this. Standby and watch the show, boys,” Jet grinned, assuming his stance and pulling back the spear a bit, readying for a thrusting lunge.

The silver spear tip sparkled as the spearman observed the approaching brawler, akin to a predator fixated on the futile struggles of its prey.

It’s a pity that such a hot babe would meet her end here, he mused, readying himself to strike.

Jet's grin morphed into a savage smile the moment the cat girl closed in within ten feet of his spear. With a ruthless thrust, he aimed for the midsection of the feline.

Jet cackled as the silver spearhead raced toward its target. “I've got you now!”

He had executed the thrust with flawless timing, leaving no room for the cat girl to dodge or parry. Even if she attempted either, he was prepared to counterattack the moment she moved, or, in the unlikely event she managed to parry, he would unleash his next attack in a flash.

Zara, however, remained focused on the incoming spear, her limpid eyes revealing neither anxiety nor concern. Twisting her leg in the sand, she spun; and the spearhead clashed against her gauntlets. The nimble cat girl rolled along the length of the elongated spear, appearing in front of its stunned owner in a flash.

“What the…?” The spearman's words were abruptly cut off by an uppercut, the force of the blow causing his grip on the weapon to loosen, sending him airborne. Zara swiftly adjusted her position, ascending into the air alongside the barely conscious man. Twisting her body, she delivered a swift kick to the man's groin. A crisp crack echoed, followed by a chilling scream. Zara executed a backflip, landing gracefully on the loose earth, while Jet tumbled to the ground, unconscious, his hands surprisingly clutching his crotch.

Scott and Slim instinctively recoiled, mirroring the actions of the onlookers who witnessed the grim scene.

“Is it strange that I feel sorry for that guy?” Slim muttered, unable to fathom the pain coursing through the unconscious man's body.

“Well, he fucked around and found out. He can only blame himself,” Scott said.

Like Slim, he instinctively shielded his groin. Although the skeleton consisted only of bones, some things were ingrained deep within a man's marrows.

Zara fixed her gaze on the unconscious man convulsing and foaming at the mouth. She delivered an additional kick to his groin, adding a contemptuous spit. Then, she shifted her focus to the remaining men, pointing randomly at one of them. “Give him a healing potion.”

The designated man hesitated, the ominous crack ringing in his mind. He took three steps backward, the person behind him preventing any further retreat.

“Why are you cowards afraid of just one girl?” a man at the back sneered, his gaze shifting between Jet and Zara. “There are thirteen... no, twelve of us here. It's more than enough to handle a mere cat girl."

Despite his words, he remained rooted in the same position. Zara focused on the outspoken man, curling her fingers as she beckoned for him to step forward. The men blocking his path instantly gave way, none daring to meet the eyes of the brawler.

“If you're not here in five seconds, I'll make sure you end up like him,” Zara said, smiling.

The man shrieked, sprinting with the full force of his trembling muscles toward the cat girl. Jet, the strongest among them, found himself unable to put up a fight against the brawler. Let alone him, who wasn’t even the second or third strongest within the group.

“Do you have a recovery potion?” Zara asked softly.

The man stammered, “Y-Y-Yes,” as several recovery potions materialized at the cat girl's feet.

“Feed it to him,” Zara instructed, her eyes fixed on the updated counter displayed on her arm.

Carefully, the man uncorked a vial, pouring the clear liquid into Jet's mouth, ensuring the unconscious man swallowed every drop. Returning to his submissive stance, he dared not meet the brawler's intense gaze.

“Zara, get back here. Hurry!” Scott's urgent voice resonated in the cat girl's mind.

Turning, she saw the anxiety etched on Scott and Slim's faces. Puzzled, she scanned the defeated men and the surroundings. No towering sand wall, no impending threat. Their distress only deepened her confusion. Nevertheless, without exchanging words with the trembling men, she sprinted toward Scott and Slim, and the trio departed with the swiftest speed they could muster.

The bewildered men exchanged confused glances, their uncertainty slowly giving way to relief.

“What's our next move?” one man voiced the collective concern.

With Jet defeated and Hugo's crew long gone, survival in the desert became their immediate priority.

Zeke, who had earlier suggested ambushing Zara, hoisted Jet onto his shoulders, casting a gaze in the direction Hugo's party had vanished. “Let's head that way. If we're fortunate, we might catch up with them.”

“I doubt that,” a mysterious voice retorted.

The men swiftly turned, gripping their weapons, yet failed to locate the speaker.

“Show yourself!” Zeke's voice thundered, his breath quickening.

A sword materialized out of nowhere, swiftly decapitating the unsuspecting Zeke. The scorching earth bore witness to twelve headless bodies collapsing with muted thuds.

The air distorted, revealing a towering figure, bare-chested and menacing, standing over Zeke’s lifeless form. Emerald eyes locked onto the path Scott, Slim, and Zara had taken, braids tousled by the gentle breeze.

Ten men with similar attire emerged behind him, their gaze fixed on the escaping trio. Tribal markings, etched in ash, adorned their bared upper torsos. Golden earrings swayed freely from their elongated earlobes. A distinctive golden necklace adorned each tribesman, carrying a ruby pendant shaped like an owl. The gemstone emitted mana pulsations in harmony with the rhythmic heartbeats of the formidable warriors.

“Should we pursue them?” inquired one of the tribesmen.

The imposing leader turned, shaking his head. “No. The fact that they could perceive us, despite the blessings of the goddess, underlines the threat they pose.”

He shifted his attention to Jet, lying motionless on the ground. His gaze lowered toward Jet's crotch. “This one has been rendered useless as a man. Unlike the cowards following him, he doesn’t deserve death yet. Carry him.”

A tribesman picked up Jet, and the leader addressed the others. “The rest of you, secure their items.”

Nine tribesmen set out to retrieve the belongings, leaving behind their leader and the man holding Jet.

“Kvata, you've been staring at me for a while now. What troubles you?” The leader cleaned his sword with a rag while waiting for Kvata to express his concerns.

Kvata shifted Jet’s position on his shoulder, clearing his throat. “Kigen, I can understand why you’re spearing those three, but why aren’t we going after the rest of this man’s companions?”

The fact that someone from Scott’s group could see them, despite their blessings, made them dangerous. However, Kvata couldn’t comprehend why they weren’t pursuing Hugo’s group either.

Kigen chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It seems you have yet to understand the true purpose of this trial, my brother.”

Kvata clasped his hands together, lowering his head. “Please enlighten me, my leader.”

Kigen returned the sword and rag to his inventory before facing the shorter man. “Which group do you think is at a disadvantage between us and the bearers of death?”

Kvata's brows furrowed as he delved into deep thought. It seemed evident that they held the upper hand due to their numerical superiority. However, the fact that Kigen was seeking his input suggested there might be an aspect eluding him.

Without interrupting his underling's contemplation, Kigen stood with his hands clasped behind his back, occasionally casting glances at those recovering items from the fallen.

Later, Kvata emerged from his musings, locking eyes with the tribal leader. “I've pondered deeply but fail to see how we could be at a disadvantage. We outnumber the bearers of death, and all we must do is locate them to...” Kvata paused, a sudden realization dawning on him.

Kigen chuckled, tapping Kvata's free shoulder. “You've grasped it, my brother. Despite our numbers, we're the ones truly disadvantaged in this trial. The bearers of death can conceal themselves by any means, ensuring their survival. In contrast, we must locate and eliminate all of them to pass the trial.”

Kvata interjected, his voice low, “Never did it occur to me that we're the unfortunate ones.”

Kigen laughed, patting the astounded man's shoulder. “That's why we need to amass as many resources as possible. If luck eludes us, we might spend months here.”

Kvata suddenly dropped to his knees, bowing his head. “Thank you for your enlightenment, and I apologize for my rude interruption earlier.”

“Arise, brother. We are no longer confined by tribal obligations. My former status holds no sway in this place,” Kigen said softly. He then turned his attention to the other tribesmen. “My brothers, the time has come for us to depart.”

They clutched their necklaces, whispering inaudible incantations. The air around them seemed to ripple, and their figures took on an illusionary quality. In the span of a second, they vanished, leaving behind no trace, not even footprints. Minutes later, a cluster of earthworms emerged from below the ground, their segmented bodies dragging the corpses into the abyss.