"B-Rank awakened knight skill… that's some serious mastery."
Orson's brows twitched as he observed. A skill like this, which launches a group airborne, had a tight margin for error—release it too early or too late, and you'd miss stragglers. But what really caught his attention was the skill's abnormally fast execution and the potent debuff-laced damage.
Clearly, this had to be the effect of the ancient divine item, Queen of the Night.
"Holy crap! That's some brutal damage!" Madman was dumbfounded.
"…It's not just the damage. His HP is thicker than mine." Bradley stared at Drunken Dream's health bar in disbelief. Even with two Divine Soul Seals equipped, he still had less than half the guy's health.
"It's okay, still doesn't compare to Orson," Drunken Dream said nonchalantly, sweeping his spear in a continuous chain of strikes.
Orson's temple twitched. Damn it, even if we're practically family now, do you have to keep chanting that like a monk?
"So this is the power of the Knight King?"
Blank's expression grew serious. She darted out like a shadow, too fast for the eye to follow. With a cry, she launched into the air, leaping across the backs of palace guards mid-flight, dodging, weaving, and blinking through midair.
Her daggers shimmered with deadly brilliance. Each slash hit a weak spot dead-on.
Triple Crit – 27,000!
Triple Crit – 26,000!
Crippling Strike – 110,000!
True Bleed – 30,000!
True...
"Not bad at all. Her DPS is breaking 100k."
Orson nodded in satisfaction. It was obvious Blank had secretly gotten a second Divine Soul Seal.
And even this wasn't her ceiling. She still hadn't summoned her warbeast—the whetstone turtle. If she had time to fully stack her bleed effects, she could pull 100k bleed damage per second on a single target.
"Holy crap, this is busted. Every hit's a crit, and the cripple-bleed combo is insane…"
Madman stared in awe, then turned to Orson with a bitter face—teaming with monsters like these made him feel useless.
Stewart: "Who am I? Where am I? Maybe I should just log out before I embarrass myself."
The six Royal Guards were taken out so fast they didn't even hit the ground. The fight was pure surgical destruction.
Blank and Drunken Dream were both top-tier leaderboard players. Even if the guards had godlike stats, without Body Domination-type defenses, they were just slightly beefier mobs to these two.
The two cut through wave after wave, slicing straight into the heart of the Garden of Ten Thousand Flowers, leaving the Godslayer quartet in the dust.
"Compared to me? A guild officer like you's got nothing."
Blank finished off the last squad captain with a flourish, tossing a smug glance at Madman—ready to settle an old score.
Orson and the others covered their faces in pain. Madman, grinding his teeth, passed gold coins to the other three. They'd made bets during the fight—and lost.
Blank glanced back at the four idiots. While she and Drunken Dream were battling through waves, these clowns were gambling mid-raid.
Her long speech died in her throat, replaced by pure profanity. If not for her "Ice Queen" image, she would've given these fools a piece of her mind.
"This level of laid-back confidence… we can't copy that," Drunken Dream said with a grin.
To him, the Godslayer gang were like frontier cowboys—cool and careless until the moment they exploded into action.
Their chill attitude might seem bizarre to outsiders, but Drunken Dream understood. It came from absolute confidence in their strength.
[You have discovered: Garden of Ten Thousand Flowers – Triple Gate!]
Notice: Each of the three gates is guarded by an elite of the Light Dragon Empire. Do you wish to proceed?
Notice: Squad wipe will result in a 30-day dungeon lockout in the palace prison.
A prompt appeared. Orson closed his minigame window and smiled. "Alright, enough warming up. Time for the real show."
Ahead stood a solitary pavilion, where a man in Purple-Gold noble robes lounged with a wine goblet—radiating the quiet menace of a true expert.
[Purple-Gold Family – Kriphas, Level 80]
[Saint Lord-Class Entity]
HP: 130,000,000
ATK: 14,000–17,000
Skills: Purple-Gold Arcane Magus, Wounds-Unseen Barrier
"Baron, did you lose your way?" Kriphas said lazily, and with a wave, violet light crystallized the air around the pavilion with arcane intensity.
"I'm here to speak with Cassandra. Kindly step aside, Archmage," Orson replied with a cool smile.
"Where are the palace guards? What did you do to them?" Kriphas turned his head, killing intent gleaming in his lilac eyes.
Orson smirked. "Naturally, I sent them to meet the God of Light."
"How bold. A mere baron, daring to rebel against the Empire. Unexpected, but amusing." Kriphas chuckled. "You're not the first to trespass. I sent the others to meet your so-called god as well."
"Quit the BS. What, we can't stop to admire the flowers now?" Madman scoffed, riding the high of his recent winnings.
"Get him, you fat bastard!"
Madman howled, and Bradley charged, his dark blade humming. The two flanked Kriphas like seasoned predators.
"He's mine."
Blank's voice was ice. She moved even faster, vanishing into a black streak that reappeared behind Kriphas.
Her Level 50 Forbidden Magic dagger, Dirge of the Dead, shrieked like a banshee. It slashed clean through, bypassing defense and amplifying crits—deadly to a glass-cannon mage like Kriphas.
Magic Rebound – 1,000,000!
Crippling Slash – 470,000!
Kriphas staggered, clutching his bleeding throat—only for Blank to sever his staff arm next.
Magic ATK down by 50%!
A mage without a staff was just a meat shield.
Panicked, Kriphas activated Wounds-Unseen Barrier, his body turning crystalline and floating backward.
Clang!
Damage reduced – 4,000…
His defense surged with insane resistance to physical and magical attacks. Blank frowned and summoned her flying beast to chase him down.
"Purple-Gold Cascade!"
Kriphas roared. A six-pointed violet sigil appeared overhead. A-grade Purple-Gold magic transformed the area into a purple storm as crystal shards rained down like swords.
"Damn, those crystals would be worth billions in the real world!"
Madman whistled, then shouted, "Bradley, smash that damn barrier!"
Orson blinked. Bradley could break Body Domination?
"Drunken Dream! Lend me your shoulder!"
Bradley's eyes gleamed.
"What are you—"
Before he could finish, Bradley kicked off his shoulder and launched like a missile.
"Get down!" Kriphas sneered, unleashing the crystal torrent.
But Bradley's mind was hyper-focused. In his vision, the deadly crystals slowed to a crawl.
Miss!
Miss!
Miss!
Blank and Drunken Dream stared, slack-jawed. Those dozens of Misses were unreal.
"Special buff—Fleeting Eternity," Drunken Dream whispered, awe in his voice.
"You—!"
Kriphas panicked as Bradley reached him.
[Soul Seal Skill: Bonebreaker!]
Bradley's hands formed a triangle, resembling a dragon's maw. Twin spectral dragons—one black, one white—coiled between his palms.
ROAR!!
Their howl echoed like divine thunder. Kriphas screamed, immobilized by the dragon's bind.
Meanwhile, his crystalline defenses crumbled under light-dragon counterforces.
Body Domination removed!
Awakening: Meteorfall Cleave!
Bradley's dual blades crossed before his chest, spinning with elemental fury.
SPLURT!
Fatal Blow – 3,000,000!
"Holy hell…"
Orson gaped. Blank and Drunken Dream exchanged glances, momentarily speechless.
This was the confidence of a Godslayer elite?
Overpowered didn't even begin to cover it.
"We're just getting started!"
Madman grinned like a devil.
Awakening: Murky Waters Waltz!