The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?! Chapter 371 - 371 315 Miss Druids

371: Chapter 315 Miss Druids 371: Chapter 315 Miss Druids The manor welcod yet another batch of guests, and the inexplicable deaths had already cast a shadow in the hearts of many Undead.

It’s a supernatural-thed instance without health bars, with invisible enemies.

“But the rewards are high,” Lena said, her left hand carrying a shield with a “parry” effect, and her right hand wielding an ordinary sergeant’s Longsword enhanced with a sharp Enchantnt.

All of these she had acquired through “impulse buying.”

She was currently applying Sword Oil to her blade, her practiced movents causing the six Undead following her to exchange glances non-stop.

The Undead could never have imagined that the NPC before them would turn out to be a quest fanatic, and even the entire operation team had been assembled by Lena.

And the reason she did so was for Military rits—to shop!

The team wasn’t front-line, but everyone had a certain level of cooperation and tacit understanding, so after entering the manor, things remained calm.

“According to the first law of horror gas, there’s definitely a jump scare around the corner!” Long Live Sister Li was talking confidently, sharing her experiences learned from glimpses of horror movie clips.

“No enemies!” Lena simply sniffed and calmly walked ahead, leading the charge.

The Undead exchanged glances, then chose to quickly follow her.

The manor hadn’t been tidied up in a long ti, and the dust was pulled up as they passed, clinging to their backs like capes.

The dim environnt offered not a speck of light, and everyone tacitly refrained from lighting torches to avoid attracting sothing with the firelight prematurely.

“There is a dance hall ahead,” Lena said, turning her head, “we must be absolutely silent!”

She had already seen silhouettes shaking within the dance hall.

The faint points of light were indistinct, whether they were candlelight or so other luminous insects, her vision wasn’t as keen as her sense of sll.

But there was a sll of blood inside, signifying absolute danger.

“This will be easy!”

The scent-stealing trinket of the Banshee was brought up again; although the little thing was quite quirky, its ability to steal sounds was very handy, an excellent item for stealth.

Lena opened her mouth, but no sound ca out.

She had witnessed the strange actions of the Undead many tis before.

They opened the door and crouched as they squeezed into the dance hall, only to find a woman in a dress sitting on the floor.

[Old Nobility · Miss Nightingale · Cani · Gilman, lv11]

[Health: 3000/3000]

A map monster with an unreasonable health bar, she couldn’t be called an elite, but rather should be addressed as a boss.

The lady seed to sense soone approaching from behind and slowly turned around, revealing a bird face as horrific as that of a nightingale, her mouth elongate into a sharp beak, her neck slender and protruding forward.

She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound erged.

Her arms spread, and the Undead only then realized that Miss Nightingale’s body had long rged with her dress, which was both her skirt and her feathers.

Miss Nightingale flapped her arms and leapt up, with a pair of curled, bird-like claws beneath her gown, the claws, sharp as blades, striking sparks, thrusting at the Undead.

Lena stepped forward, using her “parry” shield to successfully deflect the enemy’s attack.

Her extensive cooperation with the Undead had given her a set of combat logic.

From the Undead’s perspective, the NPC on their team was excessively strong.

The others reacted quickly as well, raising their hands to attack in unison.

The explosive bombardnt completely enveloped Miss Nightingale, emitting a blinding light as it blood.

Miss Nightingale crashed through the window onto the ground and, after a few convulsions, lay motionless.

A level 11 BOSS with 3000 hit points might have given them a headache if it were during the early beta of the ga, but now, the Undead could only say, it was rather weak.

Subsequently, they encountered two more BOSS battles.

“Is there nothing else in the entire manor but BOSSes?” Long Live Sister Li murmured.

Lena led the way, the power of the Old Nobility also making her heart tremble.

She could tell that the Old Nobility were fighting on instinct.

If such power were to be fully controlled by the Blood Clan…

“Giggle giggle~”

The laughter suddenly ca through, prompting everyone to imdiately look up toward the front, at a staircase.

The sound emanated from upstairs, piercing through the space.

An intrinsic shudder seized her, that fearful atmosphere reminding her of “death” after a long absence, yet the Undead around her felt nothing, rely complaining about the eeriness of the laughter.

The Undead couldn’t sense anyone’s power, but as soon as they laid eyes on them, they could discern their truth, a contradictory ability.

“Don’t go up there!” Lena warned the Undead.

But that voice had already pinpointed their location.

Within a tranquil corridor hung the landscape pieces of Artist Boyd, as well as a decorative suit of Armor and a Knight with a Longsword standing at the corner.

A faint glow suddenly appeared before everyone’s eyes.

Lena felt her heart being squeezed.

It was a familiar terror, like the one she felt when Lind looked her way.

However, looking at the Undead, she found them already wielding their weapons with smiles on their faces, even excitedly chattering among themselves.

The ghostly light rapidly expanded and then violently ripped through the space, as an extrely long, gaunt arm reached out.

The girlish laughter ca from behind the glow, that playfully fiendish scene sending chills down one’s spine.

“Let’s get in a few hits first, brothers!” One of the Undead charged forward.

The grotesquely thin arm lifted, its movents slow yet effortlessly catching the Undead, the pale knuckles locking as they clenched tight.

“Rescue them!” The other Undead surged forward, brandishing their weapons as they sward their foe.

The preemptive attack seed to infuriate the source of the laughter.

The gloomy light swelled to fill the space between the floor and the ceiling, and a tall, staggering figure squeezed its way through.

It had to hunch over to remain upright.

It was dressed in a suit, as if in keeping with the na of the instance, this was a banquet.

The shoulder straps of the formal dress were stretched out long, dangling to the navel.

Thus the entire vista of the thing’s chest was exposed, bearing a pair of withered, drooping objects, like water bags that had been overstuffed and then burst.

Its mouth was biting on sothing, clearly torn from sowhere else – stringy and stomach-turning, it resembled genitalia, writhing inside the mouth and sporadically spitting out a toxic, dirty, white mucus.

[Old Nobility·Miss Druids, lv22]

[Health: 5535/5800]

The figure before them was one of the characters ntioned in “Siege of the Royal City.” Fortunately, they had heard Miss Doris’s “accurate version;” otherwise, the re thought that such a creature might have a connection to Lind would involuntarily elicit sympathy for him.

The captured Undead continued to struggle, but Miss Druids had already lifted him to her mouth, the tentacle-like moving things burrowing into the Undead’s mouth.