The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?!
Chapter 157 - 144: The Mage in the Melee is the Child of the Version

Chapter 157: Chapter 144: The Mage in the Melee is the Child of the Version

"Why won’t they let us go?"

Chaos had erupted outside, yet the Undead within the city were ordered not to participate in the battle.

"Do you even know how to defend a city?" Yang looked at the Undead, speaking with an intensified voice, "You must obey orders!"

Without orders, they could not act, and the Undead had never been fully utilized within the Leon Territory. They had arrived too recently to have established a reputation for themselves.

Yang’s preference was also to let the Great Knights under his command go to the front. In addition to roughly eighty Great Knights, there were several hundred Soldiers, and feeding this crowd required a lot of food, and now was their time to take the field.

"I guess it’s ’the plot’" The mood among the Undead was stable.

"Wait, a siege—could it be Lind is attacking?" Some thought further ahead.

"That’s highly unlikely."

They looked in the direction of the city walls, watching the Flames completely engulf the top, watching the charred corpses fall from the ramparts, watching Soldiers from the legions hesitate in front of the walls that had completely fallen under the Flames’ embrace.

They were anxious, but for the "plot," everyone was obedient and refrained from acting on their own.

Boom, the giant stones hurled over the walls crashed into buildings within the city, and with that, the chaos of Flames inside was ignited.

The Undead obediently waited, their inner doubts growing.

Yang left in a hurry, then rushed back just as quickly, raising his Longsword aloft: "Charge with me!"

Without any speech, the dry delivery left the Undead lacking a sense of ceremony. Perhaps they would reminisce about this moment later, but for now, they only desired to join the battle.

They followed Yang in a charge, seeing the breached gates, and also saw the Two-Headed People who had barged in, their large, cumbersome figures inciting the Undead to curse profusely.

So it was players attacking, a siege—why hadn’t we received any notification!

"Foolish NPC!"

A siege battle was restricting players from participating, deserving of scorn.

The Two-Headed People, carrying the storm of arrows, charged into the city, their heavy footsteps shattering the charred remains on the ground. Soldiers of the three legions surrounded them, unfortunately, there had been no prior notice of this siege battle, and some Soldiers from the legions could not make it back in time.

Countless arrows poured down.

Facing the arrow barrage, the Two-Headed People simply took out a Magic Potion Bottle and tossed it into their mouths, their gaping maws allowing them to skip even the step of removing the cork.

The Magic Potions brewed by the High-ranking Wizard undoubtedly surpassed the quality of those found in Newbie Village, roughly equivalent to the difference between "Life Potion (Small)" and "Life Potion (Large)"

For the Two-Headed People, this meant faster recovery and shorter cooldowns for drinking potions.

The arrows clanged against the Two-Headed People’s Armor, screeching as they tore through and left a porcupine-like array of arrowheads embedded in their chests.

Yet the Two-Headed People marched on fearlessly, for them, it might just have been a gust of wind carrying a bit more sand.

They could not stand still; having breached the walls had exhilarated the Undead, and the swathes of red-named enemies seemed like the reward phase after breaking through a level.

How could they stop when it was time to reap the harvest?

The Undead of the New Nobility forces of the Leon Territory counterattacked, meeting their foes head-on.

The melee ensued, everyone engaged in fierce combat with their adversaries, explosions and roars erupting in every corner. Fireballs from the Mages were repeatedly hurled into the densest parts of the crowd, forcing the New Nobility Undead to avoid clustering.

"Kill the Mages!" Someone couldn’t hold back and shouted aloud.

The Mage is the favored child of the version update!

Especially in such densely populated situations, a Fireball is like a scythe swinging over one’s head, capable of quickly reaping lives and preventing crowds from gathering. If one carelessly gets touched by the Flames, the burns will cause a series of troubles.

Some wanted to kill the Mage, others took it upon themselves to protect him.

A New Nobility Undead charged at what appeared to be the nearest Mage, who was in the process of conjuring a Fireball. Regardless of where that Fireball would ultimately land, it was bound to cause new disturbances.

The Undead could hardly restrain from cursing the Mage’s relatives and ancestors.

This game was too realistic; so much so that it felt like you were actually fighting, with even the racing heartbeat and hot-blooded sensation mimicking reality.

Those who get fired up in a fight can’t help but spew trash talk.

And when the battle escalated to a "defend your mother" level of commitment, it wasn’t over until one side was completely beaten into silence.

The Two-Headed People, now resembling porcupines, charged out, knocking the Undead who attempted to sneak attack flying. However, the Two-Headed People themselves were also taken down by another sneak attacker.

The Old Nobility Undead on the side of the attackers had a numerical advantage; 180 Undead, not only fully equipped but also possessing a variety of recovery potions, had strong sustainability.

In addition, things like traps and illusion spices were also put to good use, especially the illusion spices played a significant role, as few could differentiate reality from illusion amidst the chaos of battle.

An illusion could directly draw four or five people into a pile-on attack, magnifying its effect.

This resulted in very few deaths among them.

The only pity was that the output of spices was too low.

In contrast, the advantages that came with the slight mutated state of the New Nobility Undead had evaporated, their only remaining advantage being that their Respawn Point was close, allowing for quick resurrections after death.

But what was there to praise about dying and respawning when one must remember that in the current internal test version 1.03, the level cap was 10, and Great Knights and Wizards were rated at level 11?

The New Nobility Undead who successfully glitched to level 11 by drinking Magic Potion would, upon death, turn into ordinary people.

In this light, the last bit of advantage the New Nobility Undead had was also gone.

Whoever had stronger sustainability would laugh last.

Old Nobility Undead, following Lind, successfully broke through the gates of Leon City, sending the New Nobility Undead in the vanguard almost en masse to the Respawn Point. With no one left to desperately delay them, nothing could obstruct the march of the Old Nobility Undead.

They greeted the troops of Leon City with waves of fire sparked by their Fireballs, tearing through the enemy’s defenses. One side pressed on in full song, advancing while defending and retreating when necessary.

Lind watched as the Undead broke through the gates of Leon City and flooded in. He, too, took action, leading a team like an arrow tipped with Gold, swiftly piercing through the air into Leon City, now fallen into a sea of fire.

Inside the city, the earthen pathways were oddly stained by intersecting Flames and spattered blood, reminiscent of a Sacrificial Ground paying homage to the Grim Reaper, Za Za.

Gasps of those on the brink of death were heard above the piles of corpses. Without needing Lind’s orders, his Soldiers quickly fanned out around him to clean up the battlefield.

The enemy forces scattered in all directions.

Lind looked at the casualties affected by the war, some not even in Armor, and pity stirred within him, but rather than judging whether one deserved to die based on goodness or evil, it was the side one chose that truly determined their fate.

In the clash between old and new, no matter the reason for their allegiance to the New Nobility, they could be considered traitors.

Every grain of food they cultivated could turn into arrows aimed at themselves; there were no innocents, an enemy is an enemy.

Lind had not instructed his Soldiers to spare the common people; before victory was secured, there was no room for stupid compassion. Only the victors have the luxury to show mercy and to enjoy praise or insults.

The sounds of the Undead fighting grew distant, and Lind considered them as summoned creatures set loose.

His gaze locked onto the enemy ahead, standing atop a pile of corpses, surrounded by patches of ash.

Upper Rank presence—it seemed that the number of Undead that died by his hand was in the double