Chapter 118
Chapter 118
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 118
Chapter Title: Wrath King (2)
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[Preemptive Strike][Quest]
Rumors had spread about the Wrath King, who had been sowing chaos with his recently acquired power, boldly revealing his grand ambitions through his own letter.
Intercept him before he attacks the surrounding villages and cities to prevent the turmoil.
-Success Condition: Death of the Wrath King
-Success Reward: Massive Fame, 100 Gold, Unique Accessory Box
-Time Limit: 239:59:59
The Council had no intention of hearing any excuses from the Wrath King.
Multiple experts and magical verifications had already confirmed it was his handwriting, leaving no room for doubt. Yet they had decided on his execution with startling speed.
And they had assigned the task to Rokan via a quest.
A massive fame reward, a whopping 100 gold, and even a flashy Unique Accessory Box to boot.
Accessories in particular had abysmal drop rates, rarely appearing on the auction house and vanishing instantly when they did—Rokan himself still lacked many. It was an enormous reward.
‘Which means it’s that tough.’
The problem was the difficulty scaling right along with it.
He was confident he wouldn’t lose to the Wrath King one-on-one right now, but getting to the bastard was the issue.
Comeo Mountain, where the monster lurked, was home to several bandit strongholds housing hundreds of bandits. Cross a certain point, and they’d swarm as one.
What about assassination?
Sneak in using Stealth, bypassing the strongholds entirely. Infiltrate straight to the Wrath King’s position—might end quicker than expected.
‘Damn precursor monsters.’
No such luck. To spawn the Wrath King, you had to kill the mid-boss Charge King Lance in one of the lower strongholds.
Skip him, and the Wrath King stayed in “away” status, unmeetable.
Wrath King Randor and Charge King Lance were blood brothers. The lore had Randor emerging from secluded training upon hearing of Lance’s death.
So he had to account for detection by the bandits—and worst case, encirclement.
“Gotta exploit everything I can.”
To take him down, even Rokan needed full preparation.
“Conscription first, then.”
The simplest and greatest authority granted to him was conscription.
Along with the quest from the Council came the right to mobilize soldiers—300 of them, plus up to ten Level 250 knights matching his own level. Immense power.
“Wait, that could be fun.”
And he had free rein over the troop composition.
As he pondered combinations, a sly grin spread across Rokan’s face, like he’d just thought of something.
Things might go smoother than expected.
“Let’s move.”
After submitting the request to the Council and receiving his forces, Rokan left Taimura immediately.
A force of over 310 could wreak havoc just milling about in the city.
‘No, we’re about to cause trouble anyway—same difference?’
Not that Rokan was some upstanding citizen avoiding nuisances.
Lingering in town would just make it hard to use his own shop.
Once out of Taimura, Rokan began his real mischief in earnest.
“Fire.”
He circled prime hunting grounds near Taimura, issuing orders to his troops.
“Fire Strike.”
“Fire Strike.”
“Fire Stri….”
BOOM!
Of the 300 soldiers, 200 were mages—top-level ones rivaling Taimura’s best.
Unleashing powerful AoE fire magic in unison turned the hunting grounds to ash. Players lost not just their prey, but the grounds themselves.
“What the hell….”
They stood dumbfounded.
But they couldn’t lash out or fight back. The numbers were overwhelming, the skill gap insurmountable.
“You bastards! What kinda rampage is this?!”
Of course, some didn’t care.
NPCs had reasons for such actions, but wiping out every mob in sight and melting anything that moved made hunting impossible. Some players snapped and confronted them.
[Player ‘SoapDropped’ has attacked Soldier 76. Justifiable defense and interference with official duties confirmed. Respond? No Action/Suppress (Arrest)/Summary Execution.]
“Summary Execution.”
Cold judgment for such fools. Rokan was executing Council orders on official duty, after all.
Even unrelated to the Wrath King, he could claim “soldier training” and still count as on-duty.
Interferers faced harsh penalties.
“Arghhh!”
Especially since the mission targeted a rebel aiming to topple the world order—summary kills were authorized.
After dispatching a few attackers, no one else dared complain. Rokan leisurely cleared prime spots, filling his inventory with loot.
Sadly, mob XP wasn’t shared, but items were all his. He looped the grounds for days.
‘No time limit, and the market would’ve crashed.’
Without the deadline, he’d have flooded the market with loot over weeks.
Four days left.
Tight, factoring travel to the Wrath King’s area.
“No choice. Move while hunting.”
Rokan checked time and distance, opting to hunt en route.
Reaching Comeo Mountain vicinity left just over a day.
One shot—two at most—or the quest failed forcibly, penalties hitting Rokan.
Back to the wall.
‘Two’s impossible anyway.’
His plan was no-retreat, one-and-done.
Failure meant brutal penalties, but success? Massive gains. Heart pounding, he set it in motion.
“Begin.”
At Rokan’s go-ahead, mages channeled mana as pre-instructed, casting the same spell.
WHOOSH!
“Fire Storm!”
What slammed into Charge King Lance’s mountain? A firestorm spell!
Isolate him, neutralize terrain advantage—Rokan’s strategy: arson.
Set the whole mountain ablaze with fire magic; wind mages fan the flames. Roast the strongholds, force them out.
“Gust of Wind!”
Normal fires might be contained, but this magical blaze wouldn’t stay put.
Riding enchanted winds, it spread fast, engulfing the mountain in inferno.
“Arghhh!”
“Water! Get water!”
“Don’t let it hit the stronghold! Fell surrounding trees to block! Topple ’em the other way!”
Mages, knights, and soldiers guarded below; Rokan plunged through the flames.
His fire resistance laughed off the heat.
‘Good no suffocation risk. Or is it?’
The game skipped oxygen depletion and choking from smoke—key to feasibility.
Realistic smoke and oxygen draw would’ve let fire alone wipe Lance and Randor, but if they survived and hunkered down, entry would’ve been impossible, wasting time.
“Huh, what’s that?”
“Enemy! It’s an enemy!”
“Crazy bastard. Through those flames?”
Piercing the blaze to storm the stronghold, Rokan unleashed his signature again.
“Barrage.”
BOOM! Bang bang bang bang.
But explosions weren’t just from Barrage.
It was bait to shatter defenses and fire precautions. The real payload: tossed “bombs” and “molotovs.”
Igniting palisades and buildings, they flared huge, drawing outer flames in, turning the stronghold to a sea of fire.
“W-what do we do?”
“Run?”
Losing their base so absurdly threw the bandits into panic.
Abandon and flee? Who set this? Torching a whole mountain?
No answers, just chaos.
“You scum!”
Amid it, one charged Rokan—the apparent culprit.
[Charge King Lance][Lv 260]
The stronghold boss, Wrath King’s brother!
He barreled in like a raging boar, flaunting his signature charge.
“Shoulder Charge!”
Only possible if you trusted your power and toughness. Weapons be damned—you’d ram through.
Combo or created skill unknown, but his confident rush drew Rokan’s sneer.
‘Who the hell?’
To crush that arrogance, Rokan coiled his body and exploded forward.
“Shoulder Charge!”
CRASH!
Flesh vs. flesh, power vs. power, toughness vs. toughness.
Lance’s acceleration should’ve given edge, but against Rokan?
Feet dug deep; Lance rebounded.
Crash-tumble!
“Urk!”
Rolling messily, Lance’s face hardened. Even caught off-guard, to be flung so easily?
He stiffened, resetting stance.
‘Charge is no joke, as expected.’
Rokan held advantage, but his body had shaken violently.
Without armor upgrades, he might’ve lost.
Knowing that, he braced warily for the next.
“Toss!”
Meanwhile, Lance grabbed his gear from minions.
Lance and shield.
The massive, thick lance maximized charge damage; the half-body shield worked offense or defense—solid. But none wielded both, ever. Too heavy, cumbersome.
Lance’s inhuman bulk and strength covered it.
“Here I come!”
Fully equipped, his charge was terrifying. Shield or lance—which struck? Unpredictable.
A split-second lag meant eating the weight; even Rokan tensed.
“Lance Charge!”
“Counter!”
As the huge lance tip struck, Rokan’s body blurred like an afterimage, reappearing.
Targeting the instant Lance’s power slackened from whiff, Rokan smashed the haft.
“Urk!”
But the side-gripped lance merely shook.
Weakened yet unstopped, it pierced for Rokan.
Then, a wicked whisper escaped Rokan’s lips.
“Disarm.”
Disarm. Blending Weapon Break, Force, Strike, Whirling—relentlessly targeting foe weapons—this created skill crashed onto Lance’s lance.