The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?! -
Chapter 158 - 145 Escort Mission
Chapter 158: Chapter 145 Escort Mission
"My lord," Lance nocked his bow with a wary gaze fixed on the Senior Grand Knight ahead.
Lind raised his hand to stop him, "You take the men inside."
In agility and swift slaughter, Lance and the Ice Bow were more efficient than he was.
That Ice Bow, in his hands, had become a butcher’s blade.
Having Lance tangle with a Senior Grand Knight here was a waste of combat prowess.
Lance departed with his men, leaving only Lind and the red-eyed man behind.
The opponent was burly and toothless, which made him look somewhat comical.
Flames erupted behind Lind. The golden dragon skin plate armor crafted by Dragon Skin Armorer Bard had taken many factors into consideration. His love for mechanisms and transformations meant that whenever Lind moved, his armor would adapt in various small ways to ensure it moved with his body.
The Carrion Queen’s Broken Sword, as Lind lunged forward, pointed at the toothless Senior Grand Knight.
In terms of strength, Lind had the upper hand. He always had the upper hand with the old nobility physique, strengthened by power from three different sources.
Controlled by the Sun Ring, the flames ignited the Melting Furnace Crest. The Crest activated a power feedback to the body, which was then controlled instantly by the Sun Ring.
In the specifics of the battle, this meant Lind’s sword easily sent the enemy’s blade flying.
His iron boots struck the ground like sharp talons digging into the earth, while his stretched-out hand reached for the toothless Senior Grand Knight’s neck.
There was a vast disparity in strength between them, and the foe had already been severely injured in the onslaught by the undead.
Hand struck fist. Whether in technique or power, Lind was superior. "With the skills I’ve learned over my life, how can you surpass me just because you say ’I am from the New Nobility’?"
The skills honed over time would never deceive.
Close-range bombardment with bare fists wasn’t suited for weapons, but Lind hadn’t planned on lingering here. In mutual combat, one must use every tactic available.
The flames burst from his elbow, where the outwardly transforming plate armor acted like a jet nozzle, propelling his fist forward.
The explosion originated at the elbow but the pain erupted on the enemy’s face.
Teeth shattered, not only the front ones.
A series of punches would pulverize even an iron wall; the man before him bled from eyes, mouth, and nose, staggering, his brain already mashed by Lind’s hammering.
Victorious.
It was Lind’s first time defeating an Upper Rank so effortlessly.
He grabbed the man’s shoulder, allowing him not to fall to the ground, respectful even to a foe of strong will.
"What?" Lind seemed to hear the other man speaking.
"You are, Old Nobility?" he was hard to understand through the gaps in his teeth, but his meaning was clear.
Who else wore golden armor, if not the Old Nobility of Rand Kingdom?
"I do not favor that title," Lind said.
He sneered, blood flowing with the opening of his mouth: "Lord Leon must despise you."
"I would smash his head too, just as I did to you."
"You, maybe... never mind."
Lind furrowed his brows, not understanding him, just silently watched as he gasped for air.
The man continued, "I need a gravestone, the Catastrophe Executioner needs a gravestone."
"A gravestone? That’s an Old Nobility tradition."
Lind let go, allowing the man to collapse to the ground.
A chain whipped from his palm, pulling a longsword from afar.
He planted the longsword before the man.
There was no gravestone, but the sword should suffice.
What lay ahead for the enemy was to await death. If Lind found him still breathing upon return, he wouldn’t mind showing some mercy.
Yet no sooner had he taken a few steps, Lind suddenly heard mumbling behind him.
"In keeping my oath, I shall embrace death for you," the shaky voice was not out of fear, but involuntary trembling induced by ruptured innards.
Lind turned to look at the kneeling figure, watching as the man clutched the hilt of the sword planted in the ground, his head bowed low.
He had breathed his last.
In that moment, Lind suddenly experienced an intense sense of disorientation, as if time were rapidly reversing, taking him back to one or two months ago when he stepped into the Sun Church.
Sunlight streamed through the church’s glass windows and spilled over a sculpture; it was one of the Knights of the Apocalypse, the Storm Knight, resting his head beneath his Greatsword.
Lind withdrew his gaze, feeling that Aluna’s commentary at that time might not have been correct. Stories become completely distorted as they pass down because people like their own interpretations.
Perhaps the Storm Knight wasn’t truly resting his head on the sword; maybe he was simply too weak to lift his head as he neared death, using his last bit of strength to prop up his own "tombstone."
...
Sweet Mushroom had died.
He was overrun and killed by a rush of Undead from the forces of the Old Nobility. It’s hard to fight against overwhelming odds, especially when the enemy has not only multiple hands but also one more head than a normal person.
There wasn’t time to lament the game developers’ unconventional tactics as even the Main City could be breached.
Perhaps this was the charm of the "beta test"?
He quickly left the Respawn Point.
A small squad of Undead guarded ahead; they were there to guard the corpses.
"Bro, I surrender!" Sweet Mushroom raised his hands, signaling the green-haired one to not throw Fireballs at him: "We all surrender!"
"Sure, sure," the Undead on the other side didn’t trouble Sweet Mushroom any further. It was just a game, after all; there was no need to earnestly guard the corpses to the point of extermination.
Of course, the most critical reason was that after dying once, the Undead would lose levels. Level 10 Undead were not much of a threat, but all of those at level 11 were.
"Dude, when you recruit later, can you enter my invite code?" The other side suddenly realized and hurriedly shouted to Sweet Mushroom.
Opportunities to earn Points were rare.
"No problem!" Sweet Mushroom nodded.
He knew why they were guarding here. Don’t expect that all players would be cultured and amiable. Over 90% of those who play this kind of slaughtering war game have filthy mouths; swearing is the norm, and it’s also common to encounter extremely offensive language.
Quarrels, family guardianship wars.
In the end, it would surely evolve into killing until one shuts oneself off from others.
Sweet Mushroom felt sorry for the player who was being camped. If you’re always camped, there’s no point in playing the game. The squad in front of him seemed unscathed and was likely in the first tier of strength. If he truly surrendered and joined the Star Dragon Ridge, life wouldn’t be good for him.
He quickly shifted his gaze, and from the state of the battle, knew that the large forces had already broken into the inner city, but he had no intention of joining the fray.
As the city fell, the entirety of Leon City became engulfed in chaos.
Murder, plundering — everyone was like a ferocious beast released from its cage, viciously tearing and gnawing at everyone around them.
In that moment, he felt as though this might not be just a game but a truly ugly world where players, through a filter named "game," viewed everything, sanitizing death.
Strip away all that, and this world was cruel and vicious.
Suddenly, Sweet Mushroom spotted a familiar figure, a man kicking a woman as he had seen in a scene some time ago.
The woman was protecting her child.
"Fucking hell!" Sweet Mushroom, now back to level 10 and significantly weakened, found it easy to send the stooped man, resembling a stick insect, flying with a kick.
He drew his sword and charged, beheading the man under his horrified gaze.
In the real world, he might have been powerless to do anything about such matters, but in the game world, he had to uphold justice!
Sweet Mushroom turned to look at the woman.
This time, the woman didn’t run away, although she still looked at Sweet Mushroom with eyes full of terror. The likely reason she didn’t run was that she could no longer move. Unseen by Sweet Mushroom, the woman had no idea how many times she had been abused, vomiting blood in great heaves.
Her body was covered with footprints of various sizes.
"Wuwu~" The child, about a year old, protected by the woman, was whimpering softly, knowing to cry without making noise even at such a young age.
The woman couldn’t make a sound, only looking at Sweet Mushroom with terror as he approached.
"Is it for this?" Sweet Mushroom finally saw the food behind the woman. Was this why she was constantly beaten?
As far as Sweet Mushroom knew, although the Leon Territory was stingy, they did distribute some basic rations to ensure women and children wouldn’t starve to death.
So the man would always trouble the woman just to steal her ration, and to protect her child, the woman would resist each time. Yet judging by her skeletal appearance, she rarely succeeded in defending her food.
Sweet Mushroom reached out and took what seemed to be either a rock or a piece of bread the woman guarded with pleading eyes and took a bite.
The taste was awful; there was definitely more sawdust than flour!
Looking at the woman as the light of hope slowly faded from her eyes, Sweet Mushroom said, "I’ve taken on your request! I will protect your child until I find someone willing to adopt him."
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