The seven black-clad figures moved like ghosts through the night, their steps precise and silent, as if they were part of the darkness itself.

  Their target was clear—the main ammunition depot.

  Based on prior reconnaissance, they had obtained the general location of the main ammo depot.

  However, the battlefield situation changed rapidly, and the attacking force had likely already relocated the storage site.

  Any hasty actions could lead to disastrous consequences, directly resulting in mission failure.

  They needed to first confirm the accuracy of their target, and the only way to do so—

  —was to capture an officer familiar with the ammunition storage arrangements and extract the latest intelligence from him.

  Now, their target was very clear—

  Infiltrate the nearest ammunition depot, capture a key officer, and learn the exact location of the main ammo depot.

  Meanwhile, Elo floated in the night sky, the cold night wind brushing through his disheveled hair.

  His gaze was as sharp as an eagle’s, piercing through the chaotic darkness of the battlefield, swiftly capturing key details—

  Within his line of sight, several small fortifications appeared faintly, scattered across different corners of the battlefield.

  In the darkness, the torches of patrolling soldiers flickered, outlining the rough shapes of the fortifications.

  These fortifications were clearly not ordinary defensive structures, but the core of battlefield supplies—the ammunition storage points.

  The scattered deployment of these fortifications increased the supply efficiency while also making precise strikes more difficult.

  If the main ammo depot had indeed been relocated, it was highly likely to be hidden in one of these positions.

  The nearest ammo depot to the seven black-clad figures was a low, sturdy stone building.

  The building was surrounded by defensive structures, with sandbags stacked in layers to reduce the impact of explosions and effectively shield against sniping and artillery fire.

  The air was thick with the pungent smell of sulfur and tar, as if the entire space was filled with the scent of gunpowder, ready to ignite at any moment.

  Wooden crates were stacked high, resembling a makeshift small fortress.

  The surface was painted with various markings in white, the handwriting messy and hurried, all in characters Elo couldn’t understand.

  Even as a “literally illiterate” individual, Elo could quickly decipher the unfamiliar characters with the help of the system’s translation function—

  12-pound shells, flintlock musket balls, gunpowder packs, fuses…

  The patrol soldiers were divided into small squads, with the perimeter forming a web, covering every key point.

  But what truly posed a threat were not these well-trained regular soldiers, but the 12 transcendent beings stationed here.

  They stood in the intersection of shadows and firelight, either silently still or speaking in low voices.

  Each one was like a dormant fighting machine, yet exuded an overwhelming, suffocating sense of pressure.

  —However, their perception was not strong enough.

  The seven black-clad figures, like embodiments of shadows, silently infiltrated, moving effortlessly through the gaps in the patrolling soldiers' overlapping lines of sight.

  Despite being stronger than ordinary soldiers, the transcendent beings still failed to detect the danger lurking in the darkness.

  In contrast to the black-clad figures' meticulous planning and cautious infiltration, Elo's approach was almost casual.

  He walked openly into the ammunition depot area, his steps leisurely, as if he were merely a tourist on a visit.

  —No one noticed him.

  Elo's invisibility was not a matter of visual concealment, but a disruption of perception—interfering with the cognition of those around him, rendering them unable to register his presence.

  His presence went unnoticed, his steps unheard, and even the movement of the air around him left no trace within their perception.

  For the black-clad figures, this was a high-risk mission.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  But for Elo—this felt more like a carefree tour.

  A dozen steps away, a twelve-man patrol squad moved forward in an orderly fashion along a fixed route, their steps synchronized and steady.

  Among them, one officer stood out.

  His expression stern, and his gaze sharp as a blade, radiating the composure of someone who had fought countless battles.

  Occasionally, he issued brief, precise commands to the soldiers behind him, controlling the squad's movement rhythm.

  Each word revealed the seasoned experience and authority of a battle-hardened veteran.

  The leader of the black-clad men looked at the officer, his pupils shifting from deep black to an eerie deep purple, like a faint glow igniting in the dark of night—cold and mysterious.

  In the next instant, the officer's steps faltered imperceptibly, his gaze losing focus, as though being eroded by an invisible force.

  There was no visible sign on his face, still maintaining the upright posture expected of a soldier;

  He continued to issue orders in the same tone, still patrolling according to the established rhythm.

  However, at that moment, he was no longer himself.

  His consciousness had been silently taken over, turning him into a puppet in the darkness.

  The leader silently stared at him, then used [internal energy] transmission, his deep voice seeping into the officer's mind like the night mist.

  Leader:

  —Is this the main ammunition depot?

  Officer (responding deep within his consciousness):

  —This is not the place.

  Leader:

  —Do you know the location of the main ammunition depot?

  Officer:

  —Yes.

  Leader:

  —Tell me.

  The officer's pupils twitched slightly, his brow barely twitching.

  His soul tried to resist, but ultimately, it could not withstand the calm yet irresistible spiritual power.

  Eventually, the wave of information deep within his soul surfaced in silence, and the location of the main ammunition depot transformed into an invisible thought, directly transmitted into the leader's consciousness.

  The leader gave a slight nod, a cold gleam flashing in his eyes, as if confirming the prey had been caught.

  The interrogation was over.

  Leader:

  —Continue patrolling.

  The officer's body jolted, instantly returning to normal.

  There was no sign of anything unusual, and he continued leading the patrol as usual.

  His steps were steady, his gaze sharp, as if nothing had happened just now.

  And the seven black-clad figures had already vanished into the darkness like night fog, quietly retreating towards their true objective.

  Elo stood not far away, silently observing everything, his gaze flickering slightly, his expression ambiguous.

  The officer continued walking, still issuing commands, still maintaining the authoritative posture of a soldier.

  However, his will no longer belonged to himself.

  He didn’t even realize that he had just betrayed crucial military secrets without any resistance.

  —And this "twisted will" state would persist for three full days.

  This event undoubtedly revealed a harsh truth—

  In this world, the strong hold absolute dominance.

  Because, in front of a true powerhouse, you can't even preserve your own will, let alone resist.

  Elo's gaze deepened, and he couldn't help but self-mock.

  —Aren’t you doing something similar?

  —The difference is that he chooses to twist others' wills;

  —And you, on the other hand, interfere with everyone's perception, making it impossible for them to notice your presence.

  Thinking of this, Elo refused to continue using the method that made others "ignore" him.

  Although this was not [will distortion], but merely [perception interference], he still felt a sense of repulsion.

  He abandoned his interference with perception and switched to another, more thorough method of invisibility.

  At this moment, from a third-party perspective, it was as if Elo had evaporated from the world.

  Whether optical detection, thermal imaging, or even more advanced reconnaissance technologies, none could capture his trace.

  Light would not refract or reflect off him, his temperature could not be detected, and there was no disturbance in the air around him.

  Even the faint trace of pressure that the ground should have borne vanished completely.

  This was not the usual kind of invisibility, but a deep concealment on the physical level.

  It was as though he had been stripped from the current world, floating on the edge of reality.

  Of course, this did not mean true "disappearance," but rather that conventional detection methods could no longer sense his existence.

  Although it was not absolutely perfect, it was enough to handle the current situation.

  However, this skill is not without its cost.

  Its "MP" consumption is much higher than that of perception interference, even several times greater.

  It requires a higher level of mental concentration, and prolonged use not only depletes energy but also exerts pressure on the soul.

  Elo could clearly feel an invisible force eroding his essence, as if a faint crack had been torn open deep within his soul.

  The pain was not as straightforward as a physical injury, but a deep, dull ache that penetrated to the bone;

  It was like a rusted blade slowly scraping across the soul, leaving a cold, stinging sensation that made one want to pull away.

  Even he, even with [Heart of the Strong Lv1] activated, could not fully immunize himself from this pain.

  —It was like someone forcibly pulling out a single hair, not too painful, but clearly stimulating the nerves.

  Without [Heart of the Strong Lv1], such pain would be enough to make a person collapse in an instant.

  For this reason, Elo did not choose to use this ability at the outset.

  He used it now, merely to make his conscience feel a little better.

  This thought might seem unnecessary or even laughable to some, but he didn’t care, and he didn’t agree with that view.

  Because he had now realized:

  —For many, death itself is not the frightening part;

  —What is truly terrifying is the complete stripping away of one's will,

  —Becoming nothing more than someone else's slave and puppet, with no freedom left even to choose how to die.

  Of course, he also understood—

  —That often, the "choice" itself is a luxury.

  Right now, the only reason Elo could choose not to interfere with others' perceptions was because—he had the system.

  The system gave him more possibilities, allowing him to hide in a way that made his conscience feel a little better.

  That’s why Elo had always been grateful for the system's existence.

  —And those black-clad figures didn’t have the system.

  They might not have had any other choice, and they could only use more direct and cruel methods to achieve their goals.

  Therefore, Elo didn’t feel qualified to condemn them.

  On the contrary, he could understand their choices.

  If it were him, without the system, he very likely would have done the same.

  It was precisely because of this that he clearly knew—one day in the future, he too might face a situation where there was "no choice."

  That was why Elo had never made a firm decision to "never" use [perception interference] or [will distortion]; he just didn’t want to use it easily.

  When there was truly enough reason to use it, he would still act without hesitation.

  He had a conscience, a bottom line—but not a moral obsession.