Chapter 246-4: Choice of Faith, Cross-Boundary War (4) |
Seeing this, God King instead revealed a smile.
“Do you really think you’re the Black Tide, just walking right in like this?”
When crossing blows with the Earthmind Bully, its strategy for striking the rear was also based on space-jumping. It had never let a single combat unit kill its way in like this.
But God King did not rush to give orders. He let the End Behemoth go deeper, even deliberately sacrificing some melee players to let it slaughter.
Just as the End Behemoth was about to break into the spellcaster group’s area, God King gave the order.
At once, countless light curtains connected, blocking the End Behemoth’s advance.
The bone blade hacked down again and again. Light points splashed on the Light Shield, which was about to shatter.
“Melee regiment groups, Blood Soul Pull.”
From the rear, countless blood-colored chains lashed out and twined around the End Behemoth’s body.
Boom.
Melee players unleashed Force Savage axe and the Vital Qi trait. Power erupted in an instant, and the massive End Behemoth was yanked to the ground at once.
“Melee continues to pin.”
“Spellcaster group, Wither stacking damage.”
“Archers, Rend stacking damage.”
“Support regiment, throw Bind traits in group order…”
Inkflame fireballs immediately pelted down like raindrops, and the attached Wither trait began spreading across the End Behemoth.
This was the most effective stacking damage skill in the players’ hands for killing a BOSS.
Blood Soul Pull, Bind, Wither, Rend… this chain of killing moves designed specifically to deal with high Hunt Level creatures appeared one after another.
Vitality roared and surged inside the End Behemoth. Muscle fibers trembled madly as it tried to break free and rise.
The muscles of its limbs bulged, and the ground cracked inch by inch under its strength, as if in the next second it would break its bonds and launch a counterattack.
But just as its power reached its peak.
Shhk. Shhk. Shhk.
Streaks of dim, icy light flashed in succession.
After returning to the rear of the battle line under God King’s command, the assassin regiment brought down their blades with the Spirit Seal trait.
Pitch-black runes spread along the edges of the daggers, coiling like chains and seeping into the End Behemoth’s body. The boiling Vitality suddenly congealed, like a flood strangled to a halt.
The power the End Behemoth had finally accumulated went slack in an instant.
Blood King, in disbelief, controlled the End Behemoth to struggle again.
But the densely applied Spirit Seal traits landing on its body were like the deadliest toxin, corroding along the pathways of Vitality flow. Every attempt to build power was like punching cotton. The muscles were taut to the limit, yet the strength was blocked by some invisible barrier and dissipated at once.
Together with the restrictions of Bind and Blood Soul Pull, the End Behemoth was like a trapped beast, letting out a muffled growl yet unable to break free.
The main battle line continued to be held by tank build players, while the rest cooperated with God King’s commands, preparing to butcher the End Behemoth, the hardest combat unit to handle.
Although they knew this player was certainly undertaking a hidden quest, so what.
Since he chose to become an enemy of the broad mass of players, he had to be ready to be forcibly sent back to the village.
The dense offensive was hard to break through Blood King’s surface defenses, but under the double stacking of Rend and Wither, the End Behemoth’s self-healing speed was gradually overtaken by the damage spreading within.
As time passed, purple patterns formed by Wither appeared on the End Behemoth’s surface, as well as blood-colored patterns formed by Rend.
Purple bloomed out from within, and blood seeped from the outside in.
The injuries grew more severe. Several times Blood King tried to control the End Behemoth to violently stand up, but each time was forcibly interrupted by Spirit Seal assassins.
With the perception boost of Owl-Headed Fiend, God King precisely grasped the moments when the End Behemoth tried to exert power.
Perhaps in past battles, facing enemies he could crush, the End Behemoth could advance and retreat freely and even held guaranteed escape methods.
But this time he faced players, each of whom commanded a set of rule-grade powers.
Entangled in layer upon layer of rule constraints, even a Hunt Level of 103 was difficult to break free.
Since the trump card was not used in battle, there was no need to use it. This time God King was going for the kill.
The only thing that puzzled him was that the fellow townsman controlling the End Behemoth could not be this foolish.
All of his inherited souls were open cards in God King’s eyes. No matter how inflated his confidence, he should not have charged straight in like this to die.
At this moment, the End Behemoth’s body had already become tattered under the ravages of multiple inherited soul traits.
Claws capable of rending the earth lost their sharpness, and viscous golden blood flowed from the wounds.
Its chest heaved violently, each breath unnaturally heavy.
Within the body, linked to the End Behemoth, Blood King felt the pain transmitted from it and clenched his teeth.
A hoarse low roar squeezed from his throat, his pupils contracting sharply.
Anger burned in his heart.
He kept controlling the End Behemoth’s heart, pumping the last of its raging Vitality, trying to make this broken body stand again.
But the end of each accumulation was sudden loss of strength.
“I am… Blood King… how could I…”
Blood King let out a roar of unwilling fury.
Recalling the past.
He had controlled the End Behemoth to tear mountains and devour cities. Countless beings wailed at its feet.
Then, he was a supreme top predator, a calamity standing at the apex of the food chain.
But now he was like a dying wild beast, prostrate on the ground, able only to await the moment of life’s end.
Humiliation.
His teeth clenched tight. He was still struggling, golden blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.
He was unwilling.
How could he be willing.
Just days ago, he was about to usher in a new journey of glory, leading his people to open a new cross-boundary war.
He was supposed to reign over a new world, making all things tremble under his pressure.
But now he was to die in the home world, slain by invaders in a humiliating posture.
His pupils twisted with extreme rage, and through the End Behemoth’s pupils he glared at the invaders around him.
Feeling the life inside him draining away, Blood King struggled to raise a claw. Even if he could just tear one enemy, it would do.
But his muscles had already collapsed. He could not move even a single knuckle, and his limbs hung powerlessly to the ground.
Despair and anger intertwined in his heart.
His breath grew faint, and his vision was gradually cloaked in black.
In life’s final moment, countless images surfaced in his mind.
Then the body of the End Behemoth had not yet fully matured, yet he could already tear open mountains with his bare hands.
The Etherbreath race’s people knelt along both sides of the rift valley, and their chants surged like the tide.
War priests placed the crown symbolizing kingship upon his head…
The vision of his right eye began to blur, and with his only remaining left eye he gazed at the darkening sky.
The clouds at dusk looked very much like the evening glow on his coronation day.
Then he had grand ambitions to lead the Etherbreath race to rise and become a super force spanning multiple worlds.
He still remembered the first time he set out with the identity of a Throne. That world composed of light curtains tried to block his steps, but he tore it apart with ease.
Countless beautiful scenes flashed by… yet now he could not even raise his arm.
The self-healing ability he was proud of was completely suppressed by some rule-grade power.
The golden blood in the End Behemoth’s body, once the spoils refined from devouring the genes of myriad beings, now gushed from the wounds like cheap sewage.
More unbearable than death were the eyes of those ants.
They surrounded him, and there was no awe in their eyes, only contempt.
As if he were livestock to be slaughtered.
These lowly invaders dared to humiliate him like this.
Rage roared in his heart. He tried to activate the bio furnace again, even if to self-destruct.
But the only response was silence.
The self-destruct organ that could once tear space was like cooled lava now, unable to squeeze out the slightest energy.
In life’s final moment, in a daze, he seemed to see that evening glow again.
He stood at the summit of the world, billions of beings bowed beneath his feet, and before him was an endless road of conquest.
The war priests said the Etherbreath race would follow him until the end of time, and his name would be carved into the foundations of billions of worlds…
The focus of his left eye began to scatter. The world twisted and deformed in his blurry sight, like a painting about to shatter.
At this moment, he heard a familiar voice in his ear.
“Throne, hold on.”
Then a power seeped into his body, and at once his body began to suck it in like a famished beast.
He opened his eyes and found five familiar figures beside him.
Their bodies were shattered, drenched in blood. Their carapaces were fractured in many places, tendrils broken, and trails of golden blood stretched behind them.
“You…”
A hoarse sound squeezed from Blood King’s throat, carrying shock and doubt, and heartache.
The leading war priest’s half body had already carbonized, yet he still pressed his palm over the End Behemoth’s heart. Flesh squirmed in resonance with the body of the End Behemoth under Blood King’s control, continuously pouring his own life force in.
Life force coursed within; muscle fibers reconnected; bones creaked under unbearable strain.
The End Behemoth’s compound eyes lit again, but this time, what it saw was not the battlefield and the invaders, but five racial members already at their limits.
“Throne, we are late.” The war priest’s voice was calm, though there was an undisguisable reluctance in his eyes.
“Go.” Blood Tu growled. His body began to collapse, flesh and blood turning into pure energy, continuing to mend the End Behemoth’s wounds.
“I will hold the rear.”
A black mass of players surged like a tide. Shouts and footsteps mingled as dense elemental bombardments rained down, slashing through the sky.
One war priest did not hesitate to collapse part of his body, using flesh and blood to hold up an indestructible bulwark overhead.
“I want to be with you…”
Before the words fell, Blood Worm had already charged forward. The carapace on his body peeled off piece by piece during the charge, revealing the boiling bio core beneath.
Boom.
Three war priests decisively lifted him up and ran toward the breach torn open by Blood Worm.
Only Blood Tu remained where he stood. He turned to look at the players surging in from all directions, and the bio core on his body lit.
“Throne… you must live.” A trace of release appeared on Blood Tu’s face, and then he detonated his broken body without hesitation.
Blood King’s eyes instantly turned scarlet.
He wanted to look back.
He wanted to fight.
At this moment, a voice sounded in his ear:
“Throne, the rise of the Etherbreath race is destined to be tortuous. Several times on the brink of extinction, we barely passed through era after era. The future will continue forward. Our end has come, but the future that belongs to you and the Etherbreath race will continue.”
With that, yet another war priest pounced forward and, in Blood King’s eyes, turned into dazzling light.
After breaking out for a stretch, dense blood-colored ropes lashed toward them.
Then the fourth war priest self-detonated to open the way.
Only the last war priest remained. Facing the breach torn open by the explosion, he carried Blood King and burst through the players’ encirclement.
Just then, the tank build players arrayed ahead doubled back to kill.
“Throne.”
The last war priest, who had exhausted his strength, trembled as he tore open his own chest and dug out a beating golden heart.
“Eat it… and live.”
Blood King wanted to refuse, wanted to roar, wanted to drag this broken body back to kill into the enemy ranks.
But the priest’s hand was already pressed to his mouth.
The heart turned into a warm current rushing into his throat, instantly igniting the dying flame of life in the End Behemoth.
Roar.
The war priest unleashed the last of his strength and hurled him with all his might toward their own legion.
In midair, Blood King looked back. The badly broken war priest leapt high, shielding him from the dense elemental bombardments coming from behind.
The war priest, already unable to speak, raised his head to look at him. His lips moved silently.
“What a pity… I will never again stand upon city ruins and watch the sunrise of a new world with you.”
