Lin Yuan did not give a long speech.
Before the hunting teams split up, he gathered everyone once at the edge of the temporary staging area, where the mountain paths narrowed and the air grew heavier.
"I won't tell you how to fight," he said calmly.
The noise around him slowly died down.
"I don't know the best way yet," Lin Yuan continued. "Anyone who claims they do is lying."
That sentence caught more attention than authority ever could.
"You're free to choose your approach," he said. "Form teams how you want. Hunt how you want. Retreat if you need to."
A few people visibly relaxed.
Some even smiled.
Then Lin Yuan added, evenly, "Freedom doesn't mean protection."
The smiles stiffened.
"The rules stay the same," he said. "Don't damage the mountain. Don't fight beyond your ability. Death still means a twenty-four-hour cooldown."
He looked across the group, expression steady.
"I'll judge results," he said. "Not excuses."
That was it.
No tactics.
No formations.
No safety net.
Warbound nodded slowly, already thinking.
Unbroken said nothing, but his jaw tightened.
Ironroot frowned—not in disagreement, but worry.
Gachagami raised his hand halfway… then quietly lowered it.
"…Freedom always sounds fake," he muttered.
The teams split soon after.
Groups of five or six moved deeper into Broken Cloud Mountain, following narrow paths and uneven slopes. The further they went, the heavier the air felt. Low, feral cries echoed between stone walls, impossible to judge for distance.
One scouting group slowed.
"Movement," DustLine whispered.
They edged forward and looked down into a wide natural basin.
What they saw made several of them grin.
Warhogs.
Rank 1 Warhogs.
Large, thick-bodied beasts with stone-hard hides and heavy tusks. They rooted through the earth in clusters, snorting and grunting as they moved.
"At first glance," it looked manageable.
Dozens.
Maybe a hundred.
"Pigs," HammerLOL said with a laugh. "Actual pigs."
"Rank 1 mobs," LagPoke added. "This is free."
They kept watching.
More shapes appeared at the edges of the basin. Then more beyond that. Separate clusters began flowing together, merging naturally.
The number kept climbing.
Two hundred.
Five hundred.
Then clearly more than a thousand.
"…Wait," StoneBit said slowly. "There's way more than we thought."
"They're split," DustLine murmured. "Sub-herds."
Unbroken's expression hardened. "They're coordinated."
"They're animals," HammerLOL said dismissively. "Animals don't coordinate."
Unbroken didn't argue.
The Warhogs weren't panicking. They weren't scattering. They moved steadily, forming wide arcs that funneled toward the basin's exits.
"This is too many," DustLine said. "We should pull back."
LagPoke hesitated. "Or we tag the edge? Pull a few?"
HammerLOL stepped forward.
"We have freedom," he said. "Worst case, we respawn."
That single sentence decided everything.
A stone flew.
It struck a Warhog's flank with a dull thud.
The beast squealed—not in pain, but alarm.
Then the entire basin answered.
A deep, unified roar rolled upward, shaking loose gravel from the cliffs.
The ground trembled.
The Warhogs did not scatter.
They turned.
All of them.
And charged.
"RETREAT—" someone shouted.
Too late.
Over a thousand massive bodies surged forward, tusks lowered, hooves pounding stone and dirt into dust. The sound wasn't loud—it was crushing, a physical pressure that slammed into the chest.
"WHY ARE THERE SO MANY—"
"BRO THEY'RE FAST—"
"THIS IS NOT RANK ONE—"
The first impact hit like a collapsing wall.
A Warhog slammed into StoneBit, sending him flying through the air. Another gored straight through LagPoke, lifting him off the ground before tossing him aside.
Body Refining kept them from dying instantly.
It did not stop trampling.
Warhogs crashed into the group from every direction. Weapons bounced uselessly off thick hides. Blades failed to cut. Blows landed and were ignored.
Players fell.
Then vanished.
Bodies dissolved into Qi as tusks crushed and hooves pulverized anything beneath them.
"I'M STUCK—"
"GET ME OUT—"
"I CAN'T MOVE—"
Unbroken roared and charged head-on, slamming into a Warhog with everything he had. The beast staggered, knocked off balance.
For three seconds, it worked.
Then another Warhog hit him.
Then another.
The herd swallowed him whole.
He barely escaped, battered and bleeding Qi, as the stampede thundered past.
"FALL BACK—NOW—" he shouted.
The retreat became a rout.
Narrow paths betrayed them. Slopes collapsed under panicked steps. Players tripped, were overtaken, and disappeared without even seeing what killed them.
Gachagami ran.
Not fast. Not smart. Just away.
A Warhog charged straight at him—then suddenly veered, crashing into another beast instead. Gachagami tripped, rolled downhill, and somehow wedged himself between two boulders just wide enough for the herd to thunder past without touching him.
"…I hate this mountain," he whispered, shaking.
When it was over, silence returned.
The basin was ruined—soil churned, stone cracked—but the mountain itself remained intact. The Warhogs regrouped naturally and returned to grazing, as if nothing had happened.
The survivors came back hours later.
They returned in ones and twos, faces pale, movements stiff. Many never returned at all.
The numbers were merciless.
Kill count: 0 / 500.
Revival queue: overflowing.
No rewards.
No progress.
Only loss.
Lin Yuan listened to every report.
He did not interrupt.
He did not scold.
He did not comfort.
When the last survivor finished speaking, Lin Yuan nodded once.
"Now you understand," he said.
Nothing more.
Broken Cloud Mountain loomed above them, silent and patient.
The lesson had been paid for.
And the mountain was still waiting.