Chapter 141
Chapter 141
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 141
Chapter Title: Fallen Wave (6)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Molok was terrified of Rokan. The brutal moments of violence replayed in his mind, leaving him unable even to think of charging in properly.
Rokan didn’t miss that psychological edge. From the very start, he went all out.
“Berserk!”
To face off against Molok in his complete form, he had no choice but to activate Berserk. If he just rushed in recklessly, even a casual swipe of the monster’s arm would send him flying.
And if he put on a pathetic display like that, the beast might regain its confidence.
That was why Rokan decided to torment it as much as possible.
“Low Kick!”
“Guhk!”
Rokan’s motion to split its head open was canceled.
He slammed a powerful kick into Molok’s leg as it raised both arms to protect its head, making the monster’s slender leg wobble and lift off the ground.
Thud!
A devastating punch straight to the flailing beast’s face!
It was certainly less damaging than cleaving with his axe, but psychological blows had their own impact.
Just like right now.
“Ughaa...!”
It wasn’t much compared to its total health pool, but Molok clutched its face and rolled on the ground.
“Binding Net.”
On top of that, Rokan layered on another piece of mechanical engineering gear.
Binding Net.
An item that trapped the enemy in a net, restricting movement for a set duration—but the bind time depended on mechanical engineering proficiency and the target’s stats.
One more thing: the enemy’s response mattered a lot. If they skillfully shook it off, no problem. But if they just flailed around helplessly? It wasn’t going anywhere.
In that regard, Molok was no better than an idiot. It had never encountered this before and could only thrash about.
“Urgh!”
Rip. Tear.
In the end, all it could do was rip the net apart with brute force.
“Carnage.”
Boom boom boom!
As it burst free, Rokan’s axe came crashing down on its head—not once, but ten times over.
Each strike a critical hit, maximized for lethal damage. Its body and head split and reformed over and over.
Evidently, one of the potions it had absorbed was a rapid regeneration brew. The recovery speed surpassed even a troll’s, utterly ridiculous.
‘Annoying.’
That was the problem. Every time he landed a hit, some latent energy surged within its body. Consumables, probably—once triggered, they’d fade with time. But that time was the issue.
Berserk had a time limit too, after all.
So what to do? Rokan had one choice.
“Frenzy!”
Waiting around idly wasn’t his style anyway.
If it healed, he’d just beat it down faster.
A showdown began: Molok’s recovery versus Rokan’s damage output. Whose was superior? Who was quicker?
‘Minimize movement.’
It looked like a one-sided beatdown, but Rokan’s expression was deadly serious. He had to shorten his attack paths to squeeze in more hits than its healing could keep up with.
A full swing naturally hit harder, sure. But for Rokan, even basic strikes procced crits. No need to obsess over swings when average damage was this high.
He visualized every swing, thrust, and recovery in his mind, pouring in attacks like a storm.
“Guhk!”
With each blow, Molok’s body twisted into grotesque, formless shapes—only for inner energies to surge and reshape it constantly.
And at one point, Rokan’s eyes gleamed.
‘This won’t cut it.’
Damage falling short? Unthinkable until now. Back in his previous life, the one who took down Molok was a master-level player—but Rokan had been confident his own damage output matched or exceeded that.
He had to admit otherwise now.
So what then? He already knew the answer.
‘No choice.’
“……”
Rokan’s storm of strikes halted abruptly, as if frozen in place.
Did he trip? No way. He’d never heard of such a thing happening in The Lord.
He had simply stopped on purpose.
“……Huh?”
Not just that. The armor that had guarded him so solidly was gone, stripped away. Rokan’s body stood stock-still, time itself seemingly paused.
Anyone watching might mistake him for a mannequin.
Sensing the oddity, Molok rose unsteadily, anxious.
“Hya!”
Thud!
After hesitating, it jabbed out a punch with awkward footwork—like a feint—and Rokan’s body bent backward at a sharp angle.
‘Hit me harder already!’
But that was it. Rokan’s body didn’t budge. Pretending to be rigid, he subtly shielded only his face and heart.
“No way……”
Molok dawdled, oblivious to the ploy.
Then its gaze shifted to Necromancer Kiren in the distance, resurrecting fallen monsters as undead and cursing players.
Had he set some trap before leaving? In this moment, Molok could only assume so.
No answer came, but convincing itself, venom filled its eyes.
As if to avenge all it had suffered, it clenched its fist tight and began pummeling Rokan.
‘Tch, what an amateur.’
But its punches were laughable.
Striking like someone who’d never fought before, it only hit safe spots. Rokan twisted slightly on impact, offering up vulnerable areas to maximize the damage.
Its health started plummeting steadily.
No weapon, but backed by insane stats—and now wrapping its fists in fallen power like brass knuckles—the attacks were no joke.
[60 seconds until Berserk ends.]
[Health fallen below 5%.]
[Title ‘Unyielding Will’ activates: All stats +50%.]
Exactly when Berserk had one minute left, Rokan’s health dipped under 5%.
Berserk granted immortality even at 0% anyway. But now Unyielding Will kicked in, boosting all stats by 50%.
“Fallen Hunt.”
He triggered the final piece. A title effect accumulating 30% of fallen power damage and unleashing it in one burst.
What to pair it with? Only one option.
“Eek!”
Molok panicked at Rokan’s sudden movement.
Gone was the defiant, gritted-teeth figure. Just a sandbag standing there.
“Carnage.”
Carnage erupted again, pulverizing its body. But incomparable to before.
What was mere mashing now ground it to paste. No room for recovery.
[Level up.]
‘20 seconds.’
No time to savor the carnage he’d wrought. Enemies swarmed everywhere—powerful ones.
Plus, monsters that had lost their master were already glitching out.
“Crazy! What’s wrong with these things?!”
“Don’t touch ‘em! Don’t pull aggro!”
The once-coordinated fallen monsters went berserk on their own.
Quick-witted players fled their rampage radius, but some panicked and got swept up.
Predictably: death.
Meanwhile, some guilds pushed through massive losses to near completion.
“Got it!”
“Nice!”
“Scatter!”
Hunt success. Notifications blared as the players dispersed. No time to celebrate—the surroundings screamed danger.
“Urgh……”
“Damn it.”
“How the hell are we supposed to kill this?!”
Not everyone succeeded. In one isolated spot, players died in droves, wretched and broken.
Fallen Enforcer Heaven.
He wielded fallen power, butchering every charging foe. Unlike Necromancer Kiren.
“Idiot filth.”
Even he vented frustration. These vermin had tied him down, preventing him from guarding Molok.
He’d thought he’d dispatch them instantly and rush over. But these bastards clung worse than leeches, grabbing his ankle.
Mission failed.
“No helping it. Decent expendables despite the stupidity. Have to switch tactics.”
Muttering cryptically, he glared at Rokan, then vanished from the battlefield.
He’d learned the hard way in the recent fight: kill these pests, and they just revived.
‘Before he bolts……’
But Rokan had no attention to spare. The fallen monsters’ rampage had begun, and he had only about 30 seconds left.
Seemed like he’d Leap Attack into their center—then he bellowed at full power.
“GRRAAAAAHHH!”
The roar snapped even frenzied minds back to reality. The rampaging fallen monsters reacted in unison.
Terrified by the voice laced with madder insanity than their own fallen power, they fled.
[Insufficient health. Within 5 seconds, restore to max health……]
“Health Charge.”
Berserk ended right after, but it didn’t matter.
The thoroughly spooked fallen monsters scattered in all directions. Rokan immediately triggered the power in his bracelet.
“Summon Assistant: Jumper.”
An assistant. Specifically, Jumper—the space-teleport specialist.
First time using an expedition bracelet to summon an assistant instead of a clone, but he’d used it in his past life. He knew its functions inside out.
Whoooosh!
With a series of jumps, Rokan vanished from the battlefield in seconds.
‘Not bad.’
Waiting out Berserk’s cooldown, he scanned updates.
News of the Fallen Wave boss’s death—and one boss-tier vanishing—spread like wildfire without announcement.
[World Event: Fallen Wave has ended.]
[World Event Phase 1-2: Fallen Remnants begins.]
[Hunt the fallen monsters freed from control.]
[Caution: Freed from domination, these fallen monsters lose some power but gain self-control.]
The world announcement informed everyone.
Freed from Molok’s influence, no longer infused with fallen power, the remnants were much weaker than before. But underestimating them would hurt.
Still tough for players—and self-control meant regained intelligence and tactics.
Dumb brutes? Fine. Smart ones? They’d solo-massacre players.
‘Roughly 7 to 3.’
Scattered remnants wreaked havoc in every direction, screams echoing.
The forums crashed under the uproar, live complaints flooding in like broadcasts.
Rokan gauged the situation from them.
About 7 to Black Dragon Legion camps, 3 to Golden Lion Legion. Even Golden Lion players tasted the world event now.
But it wasn’t pure loss.
Black Dragon Legion had already taken heavy hits. Cleaning up remnants would cost them dearly.
Whether it netted a gain? Debatable.
‘Chasing remnants now……pointless.’
Watching the continent-wide chaos from the event scraps, Rokan turned his gaze elsewhere.
Better to stir new trouble than hunt weakened remnants with nerfed rewards.
Coincidental encounters? Sure. Actively hunting? No.
As Berserk’s aftereffects faded, he smirked slyly and set off.