Chapter 140
Chapter 140
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 140
Chapter Title: Fallen Wave (5)
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“Yeah.”
‘What’s going on? Not a cloud in the sky, hard to even hide without skills, and suddenly the weather changes? Or maybe someone’s shadow skill?’
He couldn’t afford to harbor many questions amid the desperate battle, but at the same time, he couldn’t harbor any more.
A massive boulder plummeting from the sky crushed him, cutting off his thoughts entirely.
KABOOM!
“Arghhh!”
“What the…?”
“...Ugh!”
Amid the tangled mess of fallen monsters and Black Dragon Legion users, dozens of boulders rained down simultaneously from the heavens, smashing everything that moved, no exceptions.
The full might of siege weapon catapults was on display.
“Whew, flying nice and true!”
Second volley, third. Not just boulders, but bombs and poison payloads too—the catapults kept unleashing barrage after barrage.
No one knew how many they’d prepared, but with no room to dodge, the timed drops wiped out every living thing in range.
[You have leveled up.]
“You punks. That’s why you gotta use your heads. We know exactly where the enemy is and where their base is—why bother charging in with swords?”
The one directing the nonstop catapult fire while commanding his soldiers was none other than Rokan.
He’d shelled out a fortune to rent over twenty catapults, but sucking honey safely from a spot where the battlefield looked like a speck? More than worth it.
“First line, fire! Reload! Second line, fire…!”
Plus, he’d already amassed a fortune raiding various bases.
The cost of rocks and bombs alone was astronomical—beyond what any individual or even most guilds could dream of—but Rokan flung them out like roadside pebbles.
[You have earned 4 Merit Points.]
[Your Fame has increased by 2,000.]
Catapults didn’t just hunt fallen monsters, after all. Black Dragon Legion guilds caught in the blasts were dropping like flies in the attack radius.
[Acquired Dried Blade of Death (Rare).]
[Acquired Armor of Sorrow (Unique).]
[Acquired Cloak of Fluidity (Rare).]
If it were just XP and cash, it’d be a huge loss. But gear from Black Dragon Legion’s top users? That changed everything.
Item drops were luck-based, but even from this distance, they steadily piled up in his inventory.
“Yes! That’s the stuff!”
This was the moment he’d endured handing over intel and watching them guerrilla-snipe his hunts for.
[You have leveled up.]
The soldiers manned the catapults, but Rokan owned the machines—and the soldiers. All the XP and loot from their kills funneled straight to him. His stubborn XP bar finally budged, granting two levels in quick succession.
“Cease fire! Disassemble, full retreat!”
By the time the fallen monsters and Black Dragon Legion users realized what was pounding them, Rokan dismantled the catapults without hesitation and pulled his soldiers back.
The massive weapons took time to break down even with a crowd on it, but no issue. When some fallen monsters closed in, Rokan dove in personally.
[Catapult Defense Battle begins. Protect the catapults from enemies until disassembly is complete.]
“Berserk!”
Time to remind them of that overwhelming violence they’d briefly forgotten.
* * *
Hit and run.
Rokan, transformed into the incarnation of violence, overwhelmed even fallen monsters with sheer combat power, but he didn’t push it.
He held out exactly ten minutes—until the catapults were packed and soldiers clear—then bolted without a backward glance, burning his remaining five minutes of Berserk to sprint full tilt.
Brawling the small fry wouldn’t thin their numbers much anyway; nothing would change.
At this level, dying once wiped out gains from slaughtering dozens. So he cashed in his profits and dipped.
“Idiots.”
The next day, Rokan scored again with catapults.
Molok finally showed some brains, shifting base from the plains to the castle ruins they’d wrecked. But overextending in the siege bit them.
The crumbled walls left them exposed; another barrage inflicted heavy losses, forcing another rout.
The moment they clocked Rokan as the catapult puppeteer, Molok might’ve lost the will to fight.
“This oughta do it…!”
Next day, Molok tried again. Using necromancer minions, he erected a massive bone roof overhead. Simple logic: catapults could only drop from above.
The necromancers were drained near collapse, but Molok smugly admired his bone canopy.
“Moron.”
Swoosh. KABOOM!
Rokan cracked it effortlessly.
He’d swapped payloads for the gaps—smaller bombs, poisons, explosive potions instead of giant boulders.
The tiny ones slipped through bone crevices, devastating the complacent, resting fallen monsters.
Accuracy suffered with the scatter, and some catapults blew from colliding projectiles, but the wide spread hit more targets.
“Th-this!”
Ordinary bombs and poisons wouldn’t faze fallen monsters much.
But Rokan swept high-level zones, bought under Regalia Province’s disputed banner, and stocked premium consumables galore.
“Time to end this.”
Next day, Molok’s final play: disperse.
Splitting fallen monsters into small units to minimize catapult focus fire.
‘Time to move…’
But it backfired.
Rokan held back this time. No catapults prepped. He stealthed, hanging back at a distance, ready to infiltrate their ranks.
“Nothing. No sign of him, right?”
“Yes. Seems he scattered his forces for that reason.”
After ages of inaction, others stirred.
Black Dragon Legion users. Suppressed by Rokan’s dominance for days, they sensed his absence and mobilized.
They’d eyed his barrages warily but pulled all-nighters surveilling fallen monsters nightly.
“Let’s go!”
The moment arrived. Foes nicely split for divide-and-conquer.
Pooling a guild’s full might? Piece of cake.
“Waaah!”
Black Dragon Legion’s top guilds threw everything in. To snag more fallen monsters, weaken the wave, boost their cut!
‘Shall we join the fun?’
Rokan slipped into motion stealthily.
Not toward the Black Dragon Legion chaos. He targeted enemy brass: Molok and his two aides.
“Damn it! Sweep those vermin! Kiren, you too—wipe ‘em out!”
“My role is…”
“I know, I know! Raise undead, preserve forces, fill gaps. But revived ones can’t wield corruption properly anyway. So go! Save even one more!”
Drawing near Molok, the necromancer—who’d spawned fresh troops nightly—headed to the front. Revived monsters struggled with corruption, so better grab numbers now, kill users later.
‘Lucky break.’
Perfect for Rokan.
Three-on-one was dicey even with Berserk; one bailing solo made it smoother.
‘Problem’s that one.’
The other: decked in custom black knight gear, surely melee class.
Rokan’d face 2v1 up close.
Molok had zero combat chops, but insane stats. Without Berserk, Rokan wouldn’t dare tangle.
Poison/resistance potions absorbed? Headache city. No guarantee he’d last fifteen minutes flat-out.
‘No choice.’
So, what to do?
Rokan rummaged inventory mid-stealth, pulling arsenal to sub for Wrath Axe.
“Wild Dance!”
“Huh?”
Stealth dropped; his hands blurred. Ten swings in one breath, aimed at the black knight.
But the knight parried swiftly. Or tried.
Thwunk!
“Guh!”
Thud thud thud thud thud thud…
Not axes. Peak Mechanical Engineering gear: “shock grenades.”
No damage, but guaranteed knockback—like baseballs. Ten near-simultaneous? Synergy explosion.
“Hey, what’s that bastard?”
“Flying this way!”
“Black Knight!”
“Named! Smash it!”
First hit airborne; nine more accelerated him into the horizon.
Predicted? Maybe close gap. But blindsided, he ate every one.
Landed amid Black Dragon Legion users.
[Fallen Executor Helven][Lv 280]
Doomed matchup on sight, but users gonna user. Named boss vibe? Dive in headfirst!
Guild elites—minus minimal monster pushers—swarmed, eyes wild for the hunt.
“You filthy bugs…!”
Helven’s eyes bulged at the moth swarm charging him.
Meant to guard Molok, but he too was corruption-empowered superhuman. Green glow erupted as he swung his blade.
‘Good.’
Rokan exhaled relief. Feared ignore-and-charge, but this bought time.
Slim chance they’d even down him.
Win or lose? Rokan still profited. He’d swallow the real boss, Molok.
“Well then, shall we get started?”
Rokan’s chilling gaze swept Molok’s terrified form.