Chapter 259 Rocket Punch
Most nonhumans were physically stronger than humans, with the Mountain Tigers being an outstanding example.
That was obvious in how less than a hundred of them could build a sturdy stronghold even if they were assistant underlings and slaves.
Not even its gates would be outdone by the gates of most cities in the Eastern Continent.
If Gerald had been stunned by how Edward had blown up the gates, the chaotic charge of the Players into the wide-open stronghold after the gates were down left the knight reflecting if he had been entrapped by cultists and beca one of them...
So Players had summoned so seafood which looked bizarre from appearance alone. The critters would use their tentacles or suction pads to easily scale the ramparts of the stronghold, wiping out any remaining Hyena-n Priests...
Another Player had a ghostlike, see-through thing hovering beside him. He was clearly holding a sword, and yet mainly attacks his foes by smashing sothing resembling a tombstone down on them...
And then there was a Player who, upon seeing that his arrows were evaded by the Hyena-n he was aiming for, roared in embarrassed anger. He then tore off his clothes and morphed into a huge bear, rushing up to his targets and slapping them into puddles, before reverting to human form and continued shooting arrows at point-blank range...
Even the husky who Gerald felt doubtful about had raised his lance was yelling sothing like ‘Unlock the seals’, after of which the lance shone in myriad colored radiance, with a woman whispering in the radiance, saying sothing like ‘Unlocking first seal, permitted’...
Then, the radiance of the lance began to whirl, eventually beco a rainbow-colored spiral that shot forward, dragging along the screaming husky and stabbing to death three Hyena-n that were trying to take advantage, piercing the stronghold ramparts before vanishing into thin air...
Gerald wasn’t sure if it was him or the world that has gone mad. Why are their weapons firing rays and beams? Was it magic? Sacred spell? Why would they have to scream the na of their skills before releasing it? Why would they have so many cool special effects even when swinging a sword?
Shouldn’t battles be more solemn and serious? Why are these people fighting like a bunch of mischievous children? And the kind who wielded devastating powers!
Moreover, the carnage of those skills clearly wasn’t an elaborate show of light and sound effects, but real magic and sacred spells.
The wildling tribes would never win against them if they fought seriously—no wonder they were so sure of their victory.
But the question is which church had so many believers with such powerful sacred spells?
Where did these people co from?
That was when Gerald vaguely rembered that they seed to have ntioned the ‘God of Gas’, a god he had never heard of in his young lifespan.
At the very least, He didn’t look like a ‘true god’ whom the Brilliant White Church and the Temple of Glory acknowledged.
While they were not as crazily evil like cultists, their behavior was still unfathomable—but maybe they really were cultists?
Gerald then turned toward the rchant whom he should be protecting.
Luckily, he still looked norm
But even before Gerald could finish that thought, he saw Marni throwing off the orange dagger he had, spreading his arms and assuming a bizarre pose.
“Can you do it!?” A Player who was running past asked.
“Of course!” Marni answered clearly and loudly.
In the next split second, many armor parts began flying out of nowhere, clinging and clanging as they automatically assembled over Marni’s body and turning him into an iron-skinned man colored in red and gold.
Then, iron-skin man began to send minions flying into the air with each punch, blowing off every Hyena-n that even dared to bare their fangs at him.
The movent was so clean and direct that two Hyena-n turned and ran in fright. Marni did not spare them, however, and simply raised a hand.
“Rocket Punch (passive item skill)!”
Gerald watched as the armored gauntlet detached and punched both Hyena-n to death like Doomfist, before returning and reassembling itself over Marni’s hand.
“W-what is that thing...” Gerald stuttered, pointed at the gauntlet that was still dripping with blood.
“An armor,” Marni answered as if it made perfect sense.
“No, most armor wouldn’t fly out, punch things to death and fly back!”
“It’s just a uniquely shaped boorang. I could tell you’ve never played with one, but it’s normal for it to fly back after cutting down so n.” Marni said sincerely. “Young man, you should read more-don’t just listen to hearsay.”
IIII
‘Do you take for a fool?! I frickin’ played with a boorang before, and that’s why I’m asking you what on earth is that thing!’
Even though he was retorting hard inwardly, Gerald didn’t press Marni.
He was now generally sure that these people were all self-proclaid believers of the God of Gas. There naturally would be so secrets swirling since the Flatfish Swordsman did ntion that Marni was soone who got along with death, and he wouldn’t uncover them even if he kept asking.
le
***
anwhile, after the Hyena-n that were defending the outer layers of the stronghold were wiped out, the Mountain Tigers—the main dish of this dungeon-began to appear.
They were naturally prepared after the Players’ upfront infiltration. Still, the Players who had been last ti noticed that the Tigern actually had a boost in stats even though their level didn’t change.
And from their status bar, the Tigern must have used so potion that put them in a frenzy and temporarily boosts their stats.
With the first-rate Players and second-rate Players supporting them, such level of stat boost wouldn’t trouble them that much—but their strutting was definitely interrupted.
But while the Players ford parties by themselves so that they could clear the Tigern away even quicker, a dark shadow suddenly leapt out from behind the stronghold, grabbing Marni at lightning speed.
Simply unable to react in ti, Marni’s neck was imdiately snapped. His 7 armor did not help at all when his whole head was pulled
off!
It all happened so suddenly. But even before the other players could react, a lone figure charged towards the black shadow.
Enraged, Gerald roared as he swung his sword at the shadow. “Die!”
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