Marshmallow and the Goat Horse, with uncertain steps, crossed the invisible threshold that separated the normal world from the Gear Savannah. One moment they were engulfed in the darkness of the forest, the next they found themselves in a landscape that defied all logic.

The Gear Savannah stretched before them like a feverish hallucination, a place where nature and machine had merged into a single ecosystem. Vast prairies of metallic grass alternated with hills of gears and pistons that pulsed and creaked under a sunny sky. From afar, creatures that looked like they leaped out of a steampunk novel illustration were visible. They were beasts with organic structures, but their bodies were a mosaic of flesh and metal. Marshmallow's eyes widened at the sight of a gigantic lion with a mane of wires and bolts, roaring with a sound reminiscent of a factory clanging.

"What the hell is this place?" Marshmallow murmured, unable to hide his wonder mixed with unease.

The Goat Horse, beside him, surveyed the surroundings with keen eyes. "Looks like a post-apocalyptic theme park," he replied, his tone wavering between admiration and caution.

Marshmallow couldn't help but nod. The Gear Savannah was both terrifying and fascinating, a place where the laws of nature had been rewritten in a language of gears and circuits.

As Marshmallow and the Goat Horse ventured deeper into the Gear Savannah, the mysterious figure that had led them there dissolved like mist in the sun. It vanished without a sound, without a word, leaving them alone in that alien landscape.

"Hey!" Marshmallow exclaimed, looking around. "Where the hell did he go?"

The Goat Horse scanned the horizon with a concentrated expression. "I can't see him anymore," he said, his voice a mix of frustration and alertness. "This place... it's odd. We need to be cautious."

"It's like he brought us here only to abandon us," Marshmallow reflected aloud. The disappearance of their guide was not a good omen. It was like being left at the mercy of a maze without a map.

The Goat Horse stood by Marshmallow's side, his expression serious. "Maybe that's exactly what he wanted. We must be ready for anything."

Marshmallow felt a shiver down his spine; he had the feeling of being watched, of being an intruder in a world that didn't belong to him. The Gear Savannah seemed alive, its sounds and movements an incomprehensible language that spoke of ancient stories and hidden dangers. "Let's keep our eyes open," Marshmallow said, clenching his fists. He had learned to trust his instincts, and at that moment, every fiber of his being told them they had to move with extreme caution.

That's when Marshmallow felt an internal jolt, a familiar and unsettling signal from the Survivor Game. His gaze sharpened, and his muscles tensed in anticipation. "We've got company," he whispered in a tone that left no room for doubt.

The Goat Horse stopped, scrutinizing the surrounding environment. "Where?"

"I don't know yet," Marshmallow replied, "but they're coming. I have no doubt, they're Novgovians."

Marshmallow and the Goat Horse didn't have to wait long. From the shadow of a giant gear, a group of figures with a belligerent attitude emerged. There were nine in total, a diverse collection of armed warriors. Three of them particularly stood out: a tall, imposing man exuding an aura of authority and danger, even unarmed.

That must be the leader... and he must be pretty strong. What could his Rank be?

A second one, armed with two swords and protected by medium armor, radiated ferocity and determination.

He must be the strongest among the physical fighters. He's much better armed than the others. I'll have to be careful around him.

A third, wielding a magical scepter and wearing light armor, seemed to be the brains of the group, his eyes scanning the environment with cold, calculated intelligence.

And that one's the boss's right-hand man. These guys are going to be a real pain.

The group's leader, a man of imposing stature, advanced with a scornful smile on his lips. He laughed continuously and without apparent reason, a laugh that denoted his excessive confidence. "Ah, ah, ah! What a surprise! Do you know you're absurdly stupid?" he exclaimed, looking at Marshmallow and the Goat Horse as if they were just a passing amusement.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"You fell for the bait perfectly. I like idiots like you; they're easy to kill, and we get a nice bit of Exp. Buddy, what are you dragging around? Is that thing a horse or a goat?"

The Novgovians began to laugh for no reason, like the worst stereotyped enemies in a battle manga. Marshmallow felt his heartbeat quicken. There was no time for negotiation or hesitation. It was a matter of survival.

The sword-armed fighter didn't laugh but took advantage of the moment to move with surprising speed and launched himself at them. He struck both. Marshmallow moved just in time, narrowly avoiding a blow that could have been fatal. The Goat Horse, meanwhile, parried an attack with a transformed arm, his gaze focused and determined.

What the hell? This guy is as fast as the Grimgoat!

Marshmallow couldn't believe his eyes. Undoubtedly, the fighter in front of him was not the strongest of the group, yet he matched or surpassed the strongest enemy he had encountered.

"We can't stay here," Marshmallow yelled to the Goat Horse. "We need to find a way to retreat."

As the enemies encircled them, Marshmallow and the Goat Horse found themselves back-to-back, surrounded on all sides. Every eye, every weapon, was pointed at them. The air was dense with an electric atmosphere, charged with danger and uncertainty.

"We can't beat them in brute strength," Marshmallow said, his quick and calculating gaze analyzing every possible move of the enemies. "We need to be smart."

The Goat Horse nodded, his eyes scanning the enemies, looking for a weak point in their siege. "Wait for my signal," he whispered.

The swordsman stepped forward and moved with deadly precision, each attack a lightning strike, each dodges a storm. Marshmallow promptly summoned the Titan Hammer and managed to block a blow, feeling the weight of the blades against his arm. It was a dangerous game, one wrong step, and it would be the end.

"Uh, what's that you got there? I want it, I want it, I want it, I want it!"

The fighter's face twisted at the sight of the Titan Hammer as if he had struck gold. Meanwhile, the strategist with the magical wand began to chant, his words a whisper carrying dark, potent energy. The air around them started to vibrate, charged with restless magic ready to burst.

"Now!" the Goat Horse yelled.

With swift, coordinated movement, Marshmallow and the Goat Horse split up, breaking the enemy circle. Marshmallow quickly withdrew the Titan Hammer and rolled towards the strategist, hoping to disrupt the spell, while the Goat Horse lunged at the sword-armed fighter, using his massive body as a weapon.

Marshmallow collided with the strategist, interrupting the magic flow and causing an energy explosion that disoriented the enemies for a moment.

"Run!" Marshmallow shouted to the Goat Horse.

They dashed across the battlefield, dodging attacks and exploiting the chaos to carve an escape route. It was a race against time, every second counted.

But just as they seemed to be escaping, the group's leader appeared in front of them. His gaze was cold and calculating, his body radiating an aura of undisputed power.

"Ah, ah, ah! Not so fast!" he bellowed, his voice carrying the certainty of victory.

Marshmallow stopped, gasping for breath, his heart pounding. Now they were face to face with the true danger, the shadow that had orchestrated their siege from the start. How had he done it? How fast must this guy have been to appear before them so suddenly? They had run in the opposite direction of the enemy. He would have had to travel three times their distance to be where he was now, yet there wasn't a drop of sweat, a hint of breathlessness, nothing. It was as if he had teleported.

How the hell did he do that?

The leader towered before them. His face was that of a beardless giant with the visage of a boy, and despite his ridiculous demeanor, his eyes twinkled with intelligence. He needed no weapons; his presence was enough to dominate the battlefield.

"I didn't expect two absurdly idiots to be so troublesome," he said with a deep, persuasive voice. "But now I step in and the game ends here."

Marshmallow stared at him, trying to read his opponent. There was something unsettling about that self-satisfied smile, a sense of control that went beyond sheer physical strength.

The sword fighter stood up and joined him, blades still in hand.

"Give me the hammer give me the hammer give me the hammer give me the hammer give me the hammer give me the hammer give me the hammer!"

The strategist, for his part, was recovering from Marshmallow's attack. His eyes gleamed sinisterly as he neatly adjusted the glasses that had fallen to the ground. "You don't understand, do you? You're just small pawns in a much bigger and complex game. And in this game, every move counts."

The confrontation was tense, the silence heavy with anticipation. Marshmallow and the Goat Horse braced for the worst. It was at that critical moment that a gunshot rang out, piercing the air and breaking the tension.

The sword fighter collapsed to the ground with a smoking bullet hole in his forehead. Everyone turned towards the source of the shot.

A few meters away, from the shadows of the Gear Savannah, not much could be seen, but one thing stood out clearly.

A pair of crimson eyes.