The Shepherds Are Dense

Chapter 125: Rule: Frenzied Slaughter

“…So you can talk.”Aiwass paused, looking over with interest.

“I thought you’d taken a vow of silence.

Or maybe you’d show some compassion and let me save her.”

“Pointless words only weaken resolve.”

As Aiwass stopped, the monk nodded slightly, continuing in a low voice.

“Mr. Alastair, please listen patiently.

This ritual has special victory conditions, unlike a standard Crescent Ritual.

Normally, even if you kill everyone, failing the tasks means defeat.

But with the [Frenzied Slaughter] rule, killing everyone early can complete the task.

Even without tasks, the last survivor wins.

The simplest way is to reduce the number to three.

The giants prioritize corpses, so the remaining three, regardless of points, win automatically.

But this strategy has flaws.

If fewer than six are killed and someone survives, their points could be high.

This could eliminate one of the three.

Thus, the most stable winners are the top point-holder and the one with the most kills.

If someone kills one person and seven survive, as long as the giants choose the dead as ingredients, that killer wins.

From this angle, killing one person in each storage room is the safest approach.

No matter which room the giants choose, they won’t pick the living.”

“You’re right,” Aiwass nodded, “but will others think of this?”

“Teams that don’t are inherently disadvantaged.”

The monk replied calmly.

His eyes gleamed with the blue glow of the Wisdom Path.

“Those without kills have one less chance to win.

When the remaining six gather, wiping out one team guarantees victory.

If four survive, the other team has one kill, and their teammates have none.

Even if they get a second kill, it reduces the number to three.”

“But that means someone with three kills could just hide until the ritual ends.”

Aiwass shook his head.

“They’d have no need to cooperate with teammates or help them complete tasks.”

“If so,” the monk countered, “their teammates could join the opposing team or betray them.

This is the best balance, ensuring perfect cooperation without worrying about a teammate’s higher score.

If our two-person team faces others, they’ll realize immediately—if they don’t kill, you win, because 1 is greater than 0.

They’ll need at least one kill to restore balance, turning it into a six-person game.

But if you kill two, you can’t face a three-person or two-person team.

Overall, a two-person team has better odds than a three-person team, and both outrank a solo player.

If everyone goes solo, the last three win outright.”

The monk analyzed the ritual’s rules in under half a minute, outlining several tactics.

But Aiwass only raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly.

“You missed one scenario.

Someone with multiple kills might be targeted by the rest.”

“They won’t.”

The monk, holding flames aloft like a sun, replied.

“If we wipe out a team—say, four kills total—with you included, five survive at most.

If someone kills you, they become the only survivor with kills, claiming the special victory.

Your survival doesn’t matter to them—the [Frenzied Slaughter] condition just shifts.

If someone else has a kill, leaving four with you included, they have even less reason to target you.

Any death at that point means victory.

In short, points and tasks are traps, irrelevant.

If one team is wiped out, the killer gains the advantage; the fewer left, the greater it is.

If we kill Red and eliminate a team, we both secure advancement.

This is the highest-yield strategy for us.”

“…Impressive.”

Aiwass nodded in admiration.

“You’ve convinced me.

Since we’re teammates, what’s your name? How should I address you?”

“Shariputra, Wisdom Path ascender, a Four Elements monk trained in the Four Elements’ power.”

The monk, code-named Shariputra, clasped his hands and spoke softly with closed eyes.

“I’m an ascetic from the ancient kingdom of Anxi, recently traveling to Avalon…”

As he clasped his hands, the flames on his body dimmed.

The fire in his palm was gradually reabsorbed.

Shariputra looked down at Red, his blue eyes calm and merciless.

But Red, silent on the floor, met his gaze with a strange smile.

The next moment, countless shadow blades erupted, piercing the monk from the side, turning him into a pincushion!

He coughed up a mouthful of black blood.

Before he could react, Alastair’s shadow blades retracted instantly.

A massive guillotine-like shadow formed and fell, cleaving him in half.

For the shadow demon, it was a basic attack.

But the monk couldn’t withstand even one.

“Pity he was late.”

This was the moment Red had awaited.

She’d stayed still to expose the monk’s weakness to her ally.

Red gloated.

“He didn’t know some of us already formed an alliance.

Let me out, Mr. Alastair.

You heard him—our two-person team is far more efficient than you acting alone.”

Shadows swirled around Aiwass, his eyes glowing an eerie purple, his body cracking with purple wounds.

He stared at her silently, saying nothing.

Seeing his demeanor, Red grew uneasy.

She quickly realized why—Knight’s earlier words must have tipped off the naive Alastair.

He knew the three of them—Red, Antler, and Thunder—had allied beforehand.

The Wisdom Path monk had made a mistake, though it wasn’t entirely his fault.

He arrived late, missing Alastair’s backstory and unaware he was a demon-possessed being.

Shariputra treated “one person” as a single unit, assuming numbers meant victory.

But in this ritual, strength wasn’t equal.

Possessed by a shadow demon, “Alastair” was undeniably the strongest in this first-tier ritual.

Though Red, Antler, and Thunder had higher-level professions, that didn’t mean they were combat-ready now.

This ritual was simple—survive with three people, kill everyone else, and win.

Tasks and the Holy Lance could be ignored.

That was the Crescent Ritual’s charm: unsure what to do? Just kill.

The only concern was not killing everyone too soon—but this ritual’s special rules negated even that.

“I can work with you, Mr. Alastair.”

Red said hurriedly.

“I have some connections at the Inspectorate in Glass Island.

Having a friend like me can’t hurt, right?

If you run into trouble, you can come to me.

Though Avalon bans the Transcendence Path, you’re a demon, not a demonologist.

There’s still room to maneuver…”

But Aiwass just stared silently, a faint smirk on his lips.

The reckless, brainless aura vanished, replaced by a sinister, malevolent presence.

“Mr. Shariputra reminded me of something crucial.”

Aiwass spoke softly.

“Having the most kills doesn’t necessarily make you a target.

Killing you creates another kill count.

With only nine people, eliminating the weak is easier than targeting the strong.

And the issue of ‘killing everyone triggers early settlement’ is nullified by this ritual’s special rules.”

Hearing this, Red finally sensed danger.

Her skin flushed red—blood seeped from beneath, forming blades that cut her ropes.

But with the monk’s death, the room lost its only light source.

She couldn’t dodge the shadow demon or even sense where it appeared.

The next moment, her throat and limbs were bound, hoisted by shadow threads.

“Farewell, Lady Red.

Demons don’t need teammates.”

Alastair’s voice fell.

Her head was effortlessly severed by the shadows.