At first, they had thought the Twilight Forest would be full of danger at every turn.

Instead, it now felt more like a pleasant spring outing, leaving the group a bit wistful.

They chatted idly as they walked, not knowing how much time had passed.

Eventually, the firefly lamps around them faded away, and the surroundings returned to their original gloom.

The Twilight Forest, after all, had no daytime…

Not far ahead, they finally spotted their first monster.

Unfortunately, it was nothing more than an utterly ordinary zombie.

Just as someone was about to finish it off with a single shot, Tartaglia — who had been itching for action — darted forward.

With his diamond sword flashing, he struck the zombie in a flurry of blows, felling it in moments.

But silently, three more zombies appeared nearby.

Seeing this, Venti grinned and raised his sniper rifle.

"Need a hand?"

"Absolutely not!" Tartaglia stretched his limbs, finally feeling his blood begin to pump.

"I've been holding back ever since we came in — I'm not letting this chance go!"

He sheathed the diamond sword; its power was too great — a zombie couldn't survive even two hits from it.

Instead, he pulled out the weakest wooden sword he had and charged straight into the group of zombies.

Truth be told, if he were to compare them, Tartaglia thought these zombies were about the same level as hilichurls from Teyvat.

And unless there were thousands of them, hilichurls posed no threat to him at all — not even a Stonehide Lawachurl could harm him in a one-on-one fight.

But the zombies of the Minecraft world were different.

Even someone like Zhongli would still take damage if struck carelessly.

That alone made them worthy opponents — and worthy opponents were something Tartaglia had long been seeking.

With one slash, he sent a zombie flying.

He narrowly sidestepped another's grasp from behind, spun with the momentum, and cut down a second.

"Yes! That's it! They can really take a hit!" he laughed.

From the darkness, two or three more zombies emerged, along with a skeleton archer.

The others finally understood — it wasn't that the Twilight Forest was safe; it was just that the Firefly Forest had been too safe.

Now, Tartaglia was surrounded by six zombies and one skeleton.

It looked dangerous.

Venti called out again,

"Now do you need help?"

"No, no, no!" Tartaglia's eyes gleamed with excitement.

"This — this is the real, blood-pumping fight! Come on! More!

The gamble between life and death — that's a warrior's lifelong pursuit!"

He said it with absolute conviction, but to the rest of the group, it just sounded like over-the-top battle junkie talk.

Still, since there was no rush, they simply sat down nearby and watched Tartaglia put on his performance.

"That's why," someone remarked with a shrug, "sometimes it really is handy to have a battle maniac around."

Ryen chuckled and pointed toward Tartaglia.

"See? With him around, unless we absolutely have to fight, the rest of us don't even need to lift a finger."

The group exchanged knowing smiles.

Not far away, Tartaglia was finding himself in a bit of a tricky spot.

Sure, his strength was undeniable and his combat experience abundant.

But there were just too many zombies around.

Zombies didn't bother with clever tactics — they relied on brute force, swarming like a mob to beat even the most skilled fighter into the ground.

And every so often, the skeleton archer would send an arrow whistling his way.

Even with enchanted diamond armor, being surrounded and pummeled was not something one could shrug off forever.

At first, Tartaglia wasn't fully adapted to the way these monsters attacked, and he'd occasionally take a hit from a zombie's swing.

But the more he was hurt, the more exhilarated he became.

In Teyvat, only a handful of top-tier opponents could give him this kind of hard-to-handle thrill.

Here, even the most common zombies could put up such a fight.

If he could train here for long enough, the growth in his strength would be unimaginable.

He had never feared battle — if anything, his only fear was not having enough of it.

What truly worried him was the lack of strong foes to sharpen his skills against.

As the zombie mob hammered away at him, Tartaglia was already adjusting — rapidly learning their attack patterns and refining his own style.

Before long, his movements became visibly steadier.

He no longer charged blindly; instead, his awareness expanded, blocking attacks from all directions and reading the battlefield.

It made the others silently acknowledge just how high his combat talent truly was.

Seeing Tartaglia's improvement in such a short time, Diluc felt a bit conflicted.

Truth be told, he'd arrived in this world well before Tartaglia — but he had never truly fought here in earnest.

Either he was picking off enemies at range with firearms, or joining the group to take down Withers and Ender Dragons in a full-on assault.

One man alone against a horde of monsters — and with nothing but a wooden sword at that — was something he'd never tried.

Now, watching Tartaglia genuinely learning from battling zombies, Diluc couldn't help but wonder…

Should he try doing the same?

~~----------------------

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