Chapter 90
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: 9th Floor - Lv. 99 Party Leaders (1)
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[Fire Nova]?
No, that's not it.
It's just some attribute imbued in the weapon.
What was that skill that caused an earthquake on impact while falling?
I think there was a skill like that, slamming down from above.
The fairy leader blocked the enemy's attack while clicking her tongue in annoyance.
Blood trickled from her grip.
Even after dispersing the force as much as possible, this was the result.
The real problem was getting knocked over by that localized quake-like shock.
Five flashes of consecutive strikes had shredded even her armor.
Daggers in both hands? Dual-wielder? With daggers? Why? An assassin, maybe?
But there was no time to think. Even with one hand, the overwhelming strength pinned her down, making her vision blur. Damn it, is this bitch an ogre? Then having two weapons is even better. This is driving me insane.
At least her mana control seemed inexperienced. That was a relief.
One thing was certain: if her party members hadn't provided covering fire so quickly, she'd already be dead.
It was still too dark to see clearly, but it was a petite girl.
But the numbing shock in her hands was real.
In the fairy leader's eyes, the small girl started to look like a human-sized ogre.
One even faster than a goblin.
This wasn't someone to hold back against for the sake of fruit.
As the girl dodged shots and retreated, she hurled a purple fruit at her, gouging a deep gash into it.
If she didn't know what it was, that would be ideal...
BOOM! She charged through the exploding blast instead.
Her outfit resembled a priest's garb. A leaf fairy?
That's equipment of decent quality.
If an assassin wears cloth armor, it must be at least rare item level.
Of course, only I have bad luck.
This is bad. A skilled opponent with good gear. And she doesn't seem human.
She looks almost exactly human, but is there a race with such superior physical abilities?
I don't know.
This damn labyrinth has too many unknowns.
Maybe she's just one of those cheat-born types?
Could be.
Either way, my instincts screamed: this was no time to hold anything back.
"God of Duels..."
The God of War handles warfare. He's more specialized in many-versus-many battles, focusing on group enhancements over individual buffs.
But the God of Duels grants dramatic physical reinforcement to a single person.
However, all powers of the God of Duels inflict direct damage or aftereffects on the user.
I didn't want to use it if possible...
The divine power settling into her body felt uncomfortable. But her strength surged accordingly.
She collided with the incoming girl. BOOM! The air trembled.
She held her ground without being pushed back.
The enemy's slightly surprised eyes were deeply satisfying.
"You fucking bitch, you've been crushing everyone with raw power till now, huh? Born a brute, are ya?"
A bit of provocation. It might have worked.
The enemy's swings carried even more force.
Her apparent age was hard to gauge, but she somehow felt young.
Just a hunch.
Their sword strikes crossed.
The daggers wielded with both hands were powerful but short-ranged.
Though she kept retreating nonstop, she could defend against it.
Wow, one slip-up and I'm dead. This is brutally lethal.
The clashes sounded less like sword strikes and more like explosions. The fairy leader began to worry about her weapon's durability.
Still, she'd used this sword for a while. So, roughly...
Five more times?
She could see the blade chipping. Visual durability checks have limits, but experience teaches you to feel it out.
That's the exile's wisdom.
It suddenly felt like now was the time.
Heavy Strike
Ignores defense on final strike
With a clang, the fairy leader's sword shattered into light.
Weapons that reach zero durability deliver a defense-ignoring attack to the enemy at their last moment.
Ridiculously, it worked even mid-spar.
The raw shock, unblockable by mana tricks, transferred fully.
Doubled by Heavy Strike.
It could've shattered an arm, but the enemy's sturdy wrist took no damage.
"Crazy... You even human? Ogre, right?"
"What kind of talk is that to a blooming young lady!"
A blooming lady who could beat a gorilla in arm wrestling.
The intense blow forced the enemy back.
In that gap, she drew the twin swords from her back.
Both longswords.
The fairy leader was a leaf fairy.
Leaf fairies specialize in spirit summoners or agile dual-sword fighters.
A bit away from the cabin, the encirclement just starting to form.
The Hunter had planned a cautious breakthrough.
That didn't happen.
He'd forgotten his party had an orc.
The shaman orc charged in as a warrior, axe in hand.
Of course, bellowing a roar loud enough for everyone to hear.
The youngest seemed inspired too, charging while yelling alongside.
"Uwaaaaaah!"
"Receive the goddess's wrath!"
"Oh! That's good! Receive the god's wrath!"
The goddess, flustered, laughed and whispered only to the Hunter.
「Ehehe, I don't think I've ever been wrathful. Still, it's fun, so that's good.」
The Hunter shook his head with a wry smile and nocked an arrow.
This bow had lasted a long time too. Its durability must be nearing the end.
The moment he thought that, the bow dissolved into light and vanished.
The Hunter sighed and pulled out another bow.
Bows are harder to craft than you'd think.
Most exiles pick up and use ones made by others.
He was the same. But this one wasn't fairy-made, so his motivation waned.
Still, to reach the Temple of Time, he had to push on.
The Hunter imagined.
Imagined himself as a fairy.
This made shooting easier somehow. No idea why. Power of imagery?
The arrow pierced the enemy's shoulder. The leader had laid out harsh terms, but it wasn't as tough as expected.
The two warriors holding the front line were excessively reliable.
The orc's sudden appearance drew all enemy attention.
Why were they so fixated on orcs?
The concentrated attacks were handled effortlessly by the youngest.
The enemy warriors couldn't match the old man. His sweeping axe, infused with orcish might, shoved them back.
His muscles looked even more defined than a few days ago. Imagination?
Orcs are muscle-specialized, so maybe not.
But soon they hit superior numbers. The enemies were reversal heroes in their own right.
The old man finally resorted to shamanism.
"Hm, casting with an axe feels off."
The youngest raised a [Barrier]. Shamanism took time to build power.
An overwhelming torrent of force. That's what made it shamanism.
Barrier
"Plenty of ice elements around. Water and cold are two sides of the same coin."
Shamanism draws ambient mana over personal reserves, so extreme environments are ideal.
This blizzard-swept snowfield was perfect.
The temperature shifted. Cold was sucked in. Or maybe the opposite.
Heat was expelled entirely. Cold is merely the absence of heat.
The drastic temperature change made the surrounding exiles feel scorching hot.
No time to panic. The destructive torrent crashed down immediately.
Ice surged. It raced over snow melted in an instant.
Ice spikes erupted from the ground, charging everywhere.
No physical damage accompanied it.
Those hit felt their feet frozen in place.
Ice climbed their lower bodies.
Instinctively, they reached out, grasping at nothing.
In a flash, seven turned into ice statues.
The youngest asked in awe.
"Old timer, those guys aren't dead, right?"
"Leave 'em, and they will be. But they're decent exiles; they won't drop that fast."
The other exiles faltered, exchanging glances before someone ordered retreat.
"Hm, planning for round two, eh? Fine. This one's a huge drain; can't spam it."
"Heh."
The Hunter nodded from a distance, watching.
Thankfully, that hellish orc elder was indeed the terrifying shaman from floor 2.
A few bats watched from the sky.
Artillery fire incoming.
A mortar, practically.
Wait, is that actually a mortar?
No, you bastards!
The greatest strength of the [Magic Fighter] class is spellcasting speed.
Though range drops to point-blank, explosions affect the same blast radius as long-range.
Magic Fighter
Quickly reforming on the roof, I manifested the spell.
A simple explosion. Nameless magic.
Not like Barbaroi blowing away an entire castle roof, but one incoming shell? Easy.
Small caliber. Makes sense for portability—around 60mm max.
They even have this? After the Claymores, I figured they raided an armory.
Mortars are a no-go.
I glanced back. The little mage gaped at me.
"Good! You command!"
"Huh? M-Me?"
"Take care of that kid!"
Of course, they'd be watching too.
I planned to let these temporary allies live if possible, but who knows if I step away.
Sunlight stung since it reached here.
Short exposure was fine, but prolonged eroded my vampiric vitality. I dispersed into bats, flitting through tree shadows.
The scouting bats had already pinpointed the launch site.
Another shell flew. Top-tier accuracy.
Delaying to intercept the second revealed my position.
At the site: four-man gun crew.
Rock dwarves.
Where do they get these race cards?
The dwarves snatched rifles at my sudden appearance. Fast.
In medieval fantasy, dwarves shine as heavy armored warriors with innate strength, but lag behind greenskins.
Their true value comes with firearms.
Racial traits make them firearm experts.
Skills lean that way: ammo conservation or supply for gun rangers, no direct buffs.
Still, forced into it by racial limits to master guns. Plus shooting bonuses.
Hence, dwarven fire rates are insane. Even our Hunter couldn't match.
I didn't plan to tank, but dodging was impossible.
Supersonic rounds pelted me. As long as I protect the heart...
I turned the heart area behind me into bats and evacuated it. Invincible!
For show, I trudged forward, taking hits.
Splattered blood on the ground instantly became bats and rejoined. Divine power.
Blood outside my body turns to bats too. Under my control anyway.
"Gaaah! Monster!"
"Bullets don't work!"
Bats swarmed, merging into wolves. Blood-furred wolves lunged at the dwarves.
"That's far enough! Barbaroi!"
Lightning struck.
Wolves charred to crisps.
I scowled deeply.
Couldn't recover the blood. Burned by the heat.
An orc appeared, wielding a crackling lightning hammer.
Other orcs arrived imposingly too.
Two spearmen, one greatsword wielder.
All warriors, orc-style.
Someone drew four orc cards? How?
"Hm, noble handsome face, red cape. Definitely Barbaroi. Didn't think you could really recruit one."
The apparent orc leader boldly smashed a Healing Potion on his weapon.
Lightning flashed in response.
Mjolnir
Hey, that's [Mjolnir]? Nice. Very nice.
They figured since they weren't human, they could take me without healing me.
Mjolnir's lightning is divine, so a normal 'Barbaroi' might've struggled.
Misidentified as Barbaroi? Time to play the part.
In full aristocratic tone.
"You vermin! How dare you target my cabin!"
I dramatically flared my cape.