Translator: SaltyTank Editor: SaltyTank
Amber City.
The once glorious city had now fallen into ruin. Searing flames swallowed the entire city, turning buildings into mere wreckage. The weak voices of people stuck in the burning wreckage pled for help, but there was no one who could save these poor commoners. Dark shadows wandered in the burning streets, and lilac-blue soul flames began to appear in the sockets of the pale white skeletons lying on the ground. Incantations spoken in the blasphemous language animated the corpses and skeletons, and they began tottering toward the only area which remained intact in the city with weapons in their hands.
The shrine area—it was the only undamaged area in Amber City.
The shrines of the gods gave off a dim aura, their statues enshrouded by a layer of holy light. The shrine guards in full plate armor stood in front, with the city guards who luckily survived standing behind them. Even the gentle and graceful priests and priestesses who liked preaching about the teachings of their gods had removed their robes and changed into heavy armor. Contrary to common knowledge, they were not mere spellcasters, but also had decent close combat skills.
Annalynne, the priestess who had helped Soran and Vivian, stood amongst them. She wore a silverish white half-plate armor while holding a knight shield in her left hand and a flail in her right. Flails were difficult to use, but they could deal exceptional damage to enemies when used properly.
When she was receiving melee combat training, every other weapon apart from the flail felt lacking to her, which was why she chose to learn to use this unique yet dangerous weapon.
A slim teenage priestess wearing silverish white half-plate while holding a flail and a shield provided quite the visual impact for the onlookers, but that just goes to show how dire the situation was.
Even priests-in-training had to take part in the battle; behind them were the city’s survivors, cowering and trembling in fear as they awaited their destiny.
The blasphemous language resounded throughout the area!
Among the evil followers of the fallen existed those who were called blasphemous priests. Together, they were chanting in the blasphemous language in order to weaken the divine protection of the shrines. The eight terror knights surrounded the shrine area, their nightmares breathing out sulphurous flames. Countless undeads wandered aimlessly in the surroundings; they were the dead citizens which were forcefully revived by the spell Create Undead and would dissipate into thin air at dawn the next day.
Yet the survivors might not make it to see that.
The divine powers were gradually weakening. The terror knights urged their anxious steeds to press on; even though the nightmares felt uneasy, they obeyed the terror knights and approached the shrine where the shrine guards made their final stand.
The approaching monsters were not enemies the shrine guards could handle. With eight Legendary-grade terror knights present, even the entire combat force of Amber City would fall short.
Despair loomed large on this fallen city.
Fear spread among the survivors.
Just when everyone had given up all hope and was about to face their fate, a strange commotion arose from afar.
The priests and priestesses were comforting the crying survivors knowing full well that they did not stand a chance against the terror knights. They told the survivors that even if they died, their souls would be received by the gods and would be granted lives of eternal peace in the domain of the gods. The shrine guards were praying on their knees, asking their gods to grant them blessings and strength for their very last fight, swearing that they would resist to the bitter end.
As long as the divine power of the gods remained uncontaminated, their souls would also remain pure.
One of the city guards shouted out of the blue with a surprised look and pointed to the front.
“Look over there!”
An inconspicuous figure emerged from the dark.
The man appearing out of nowhere was bald and only equipped with rough clothes made of cloth and a leg strap; he was unarmed. The countless undeads went into a frenzy after noticing the living being nearby. Group after group, the undeads attacked the man. The ghosts slashed at him with their claws, while the skeletons swung their swords at their target.
Yet he was entirely unperturbed.
The attacks seemed to have connected, but they did not even hurt his body hair, let alone deal him any damage. The bald man calmly looked around as if searching for something, and he showed signs of relief after seeing the survivors in the shrine.
“Glad I made it in time!” He sighed as he stomped the ground and launched a shockwave.
That single attack sent hundreds of undeads flying. It cracked and created web-like patterns on the ground, shattering the ground into mere pebbles within a hundred-meter radius.
“Perfect Self!” Bishop Phil shouted in disbelief. “Set up a defensive formation! Use divine blessings!
“Hold out till daybreak and we’ll be saved!”
Who would have thought that the inconspicuous man was a Legendary Monk? Not only was he a Legendary Monk, he also chose the least popular Monk archetype, Ascetic. (Ascetics did not wear armor, nor did they use any weapons.)
—Legendary One-inch Punch!
The monk leapt forward, jumping across dozens of meters at once. He clenched his fist and punched the skeleton knight, causing it to shudder within its armor. The undead’s armor showed no signs of damage, but the skeleton knight’s bones within were completely shattered, turning it into a pile of powdery bones.
—Firestorm Force!
Looking at the swarms of undeads rushing at him from all directions, the monk clapped his hands and created a scorching ball of flames in his palm. As he punched the incoming enemies, explosions rang out one after another, the heatwave expanding along with the searing flames. The powerful heatwave sent dust all over the place, and the undeads were knocked back up to ten meters.
Just when the lesser undeads began collapsing like a line of dominos, the blasphemous priests finally noticed the monk’s presence. Three of them stepped forward and began casting spells, shooting rays of evil light at the distant monk who was battling the undeads all alone.
—Umbra Force!
The monk remained unflustered and clasped his hands; his skin turned gold, and a silver aura filled with qi surrounded his body, negating all the incoming spells. He then took a great leap, and his body disappeared into thin air.
—Empty Body!
—Trackless Step!
The monk reappeared right above the blasphemous priest, yelling as he chopped his target with his hand.
—Mage Armor 【Proficiency】
—Stoneskin.
A formless energy barrier blocked the monk’s attack as it covered the evil priest who now had rock-like skin. The nearby blasphemous priests began chanting swiftly and protected themselves with barriers which could redirect energy.
—King Kong Palm!
The monk retracted his arm and struck the evil priest once again, and this time his hand turned golden. Amid the shattering sounds of the barrier and the crunching sound of the blasphemous priest’s stone skin, the monk’s palm landed dead center on the priest’s chest. With just a single palm, the monk penetrated both layers of defence and crushed every single bone within the priest. The blasphemous priest had his chest completely destroyed and lay dead on the ground like a lump of mud.
“Foolish spellcasters. Did you really think a layer of stone and an energy barrier could stop our attacks?”
From within the darkness, another brawny shadow came into sight.
The ground shook for every step he took; he was a magnificently well-built man 2.4 meters in height. His arms were as thick as a commoner’s waist, and in his hand he held a heavy six-hundred-pound broadaxe. Even though it was as chunky as a door, the man did not seem to have any problems and held it with one hand as he casually walked into the crowd of undeads.
“Leave this place to me.”
The brawny man thumped his chest with great strength. His already muscular body began to swell up, monstrous muscles and veins popping up all over his body. Along with clicks and clacks, all his bones began to extend, increasing his height to over three meters.
—Rage.
But this was not his final form.
As he growled like a beast, the man hammered the ground with his fists, and his enormous body began swelling once again.
—Legendary Rage.
The earth shattered under such terrifying strength. The man had now transformed into a five-meter-tall giant, the seemingly disproportional broadaxe now fitting him perfectly. The muscles which harbored monstrous strength were all over his body, with veins wriggling like worms popping up everywhere; the man looked like an ancient slaughter machine right now.
Once again, he wildly roared. It was ear-shattering and seemed as though it shook the earth and heavens.
With the horrid figure as the center, every skeleton within fifty meters was smashed into smithereens. The blasphemous priests nearby gave out pathetic shrieks as blood seeped out from their ears, eyes, and noses. As if they had gone mad, the evil priests sluggishly dropped to the floor and stayed down, laughing like retards; their Fortitude was insufficient to negate the roar.
—Legendary Warcry! (Soundwave Attack)
The giant rested the broadaxe on his shoulder, glanced at the evil priests who had turned into retards, and mocked them, “How weak! Pathetic spellcasters!”
—Earthshatter!
The humongous giant stomped his foot, sending a ripple through the ground. The earth shook and began to collapse, and the blasphemous priests were devoured by the cracking earth.
_Clip clop clip clop!_
The sound of horse’s hooves rang clear within the ruined city.
When the man locked eyes with the terror knights, he finally replaced his casual attitude with a serious one, licking his lips while saying, “Finally, a worthy opponent!”
—Undead Rage!
A bloody aura spread over the skin of the barbarian as he roared and charged at the terror knight, sending a vertical hack at the enemy. The terror knight defended against the attack with its heavy vorpal sword, but the nightmare howled in pain. The force of the attack could not be deflected, crushing the nightmare’s hooves into the ground.
The terror knight slowly got off its steed and glared at the barbarian with its blood-red eyes. It took off the tattered cape and tossed it aside, then held the vorpal sword with both hands, which were equipped with black fishscale gauntlets, holding it in a plow guard stance. (Note: This means holding a sword horizontally in front of one’s chest while pointing the tip at the opponent.)
The true battle had just begun!
(Profession Skill—Legendary Rage: Strength +10, Constitution +10. Grants immunity against mind-affecting spells, Maze, and Imprisonment. Grants the user unlimited stamina when active.)
(Profession Skill—Perfect Self: After long-term training and cultivation, monks’ bodies have reached perfection and are considered supernatural existences. All non-rare physical attacks and common weapons can no longer harm them. Only Rare-grade weapons with +1 or above and enchanted weapons can deal damage to these monks.)
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*[Long Taos]: side characters in Chinese operas who perform acrobatics and fight scenes
*[12.47 to 13.07]: don’t ask me about the tree sap
