Chapter 146
Chapter 146
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 146
Chapter Title: Recapture Battle (2)
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“Guardian’s Sword!”
Master Skill: Guardian’s Sword!
As it activated, an immense power surged into Osram’s sword.
But even more attention-grabbing was the gigantic size of the enlarged blade.
His longsword had swollen to three times the size of a greatsword.
Gulp!
Its form alone hinted at its destructive power, so it was no wonder the remaining two Masters tensed up.
“Shield of Vigilance! Absolute Defense!”
“Curse of Exhaustion! Wall of Wailing!”
Master Skills soon erupted from the enemy side as well. Deeming them insufficient, they even combined them with combo skills.
Whoosh!
But Osram remained ice-cold. Unyielding. As if he couldn’t care less what they did, he swung the colossal blade—one that could be called a pillar—without a word.
Kwarung!
“Cough!”
To be precise, the Master Skill Shield of Vigilance wasn’t a pure defensive skill. It opened a rift in space via the shield, shunting the enemy’s attack to another dimension.
But Osram devoured space itself. Not just because of its size—it crushed and sliced through the warped dimensional boundary with sheer force.
Even fully exposed to another Master Skill, Curse of Exhaustion, meant to completely neutralize foes, he overwhelmed and smashed their skills.
The combo skill Wall of Wailing gave his blade some resistance, and Absolute Defense had fortified them—that’s how they survived. Otherwise, this single blow could have ended everything.
And those caught in the blast weren’t just them. The foes lurking nearby—either avoiding Rokan or trying to aid their comrades—were obliterated entirely.
Unable to withstand the amplified power fueled by his guardian’s resolve, they all burst apart.
Silence.
What more could there be?
Everyone lost their words in the face of power that seemed otherworldly.
“Where you lookin’, punk!”
Everyone except one—Rokan.
He’d seen Osram’s Master Skill countless times in his past life. He’d even clashed with it firsthand.
That let him ignore Osram and focus on his own move: teaching a lesson to this arrogant fool who dared think he could quickly take him out.
“Berserk!”
He could understand up to High Master. There were things even control and Berserk couldn’t overturn.
But a mere Master daring to...
Madness flickered in Rokan’s eyes.
Berserk alone might be tough, but now with defensive battle bonuses and multiple title effects active, wasn’t this worth a brawl?
The monsterfied Rokan lowered his stance and charged at the foe.
“Where!”
The enemy swung his sword diagonally to block the approach. But Rokan gripped his axe haft short and smacked the incoming blade.
Clang.
At this moment, Rokan could trade blows with even a High Master in raw power.
The careless foe’s upper body opened up, and Rokan closed in.
“Shoulder Charge.”
“Guh!”
Boom!
It felt like getting hit by a dump truck. Breath caught in his throat, vision went black.
But he had the pride of a Master. He couldn’t just black out like this.
Snapping back to awareness, he leaped away, rolled on the ground, and barely dodged the follow-up.
“Damn it!”
Tap.
Pathetic as it looked, that didn’t matter now. He felt the crisis of death looming.
Kicking off the ground, he spat blood-mixed saliva and righted his stance.
Something crunched in his mouth—probably bits of his innards.
“A berserker punk getting cocky...!”
The sharper the pain, the more his rage and combat power surged. Gone was his disdain for Rokan; he began emanating a Master’s chilling aura across his body.
“Urk!”
Then came his comrades’ screams, making him more desperate and drawing out his Master Skill.
“Come at me, you lunatic!”
Rokan charged without backing down. A head-on clash? He wouldn’t dodge that.
“Gotcha! Adol!”
At the moment of collision, the enemy’s sword moved a beat faster. His Master Skill Adol had activated.
Ultra-swift thrust.
It targeted Rokan’s heart, naturally.
Smashing the head would be surer, but the axe block made the angle awkward.
Even so, victory was assured. A Master Skill with a Master-exclusive weapon would pierce any armor Rokan wore.
And it did just that.
Puk!
“Guh!”
A single strike. The Master Skill focused solely on explosive power in that instant, piercing Rokan’s heart. It even burst out his back, leaving a hole.
“Huh?”
But even then, Rokan’s body didn’t stop.
The instant he knew it connected, the foe tried to withdraw his sword and pull back to aid his comrades—but Rokan clung on relentlessly, ruining the plan.
Smirk.
A smile crept across lips he’d thought belonged to a corpse, and he closed to devouring range.
“Lights Out.”
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
Rokan’s finishing move erupted, pummeling the enemy’s body like ground meat.
“Last Oath!”
This time, the foe wasn’t helpless. He’d baited carelessness for a quick kill, but the enemy survived with his survival skill.
Yet he neither retreated nor healed.
“Raaargh!”
Instead, he unleashed a frenzy at Rokan.
The combo skill Last Oath was akin to Berserk. Not as long-lasting, but it drastically boosted defense and locked HP at 100.
He planned to end it within that window.
‘Fat chance.’
Unlike his earlier frenzy, Rokan didn’t oblige. He loved a slugfest, but if his magic heart shattered or his head flew off, Berserk wouldn’t save him.
Why fight head-on when the enemy combo lasted barely a minute? He slyly protected his head and heart, clashing just enough.
He had no confidence blocking another Adol, but Master Skills had long cooldowns post-use. No way it’d be ready in 4-5 minutes.
“Filthy...”
Thud.
About a minute later, Rokan heard sweet news of victory.
[You have leveled up.]
Not long since his last level-up, but taking down three Masters pushed him up another level.
Faster than Rokan finishing his foe, Osram had beheaded the other two and waited.
Bored of waiting, he’d even slaughtered retreating soldiers and knights as a bonus.
No need for Life Recharge now.
HP and MP were full, and nothing threatening remained nearby.
“Impressive skill, my lord.”
As Rokan wrapped up, Osram halted his pursuit and stood by his side. Knowing Berserk’s aftereffects, he’d taken guard duty.
Sure, visitor Rokan was immune to death, but penalties existed—and he knew that.
‘He’s not mocking me, right?’
Coming from someone who’d effortlessly handled two Masters, it felt teasing, but Osram was genuinely awed. As a High Master, failing to take two mere Masters would shame him.
Even hearing Rokan’s record, it was amazing: not even Master level, yet one-on-one against seasoned—not fresh—Masters. Worthy of awe upon awe.
[You have acquired 10,000 Merit Points.]
[You have acquired 5,000 Merit Points.]
[You have acquired 5,000 Merit Points.]
The system agreed, granting Rokan Merit Points.
Osram’s kills counted half, it seemed—full only for Rokan’s one-on-one.
Still, it rivaled slaying 2,000 soldier-level foes. That’s the impact of Masters.
‘If not a knight duel, I’d have taken a huge penalty too.’
In that light, Rokan killing allied Masters without penalty was exceptional.
Even in a knight duel, killing instead of subduing could draw blame—but luckily, the Emperor backed him.
Rokan was a visitor who’d revive even if killed. Already Master-beating strong, how much stronger later?
Reusing such power repeatedly was huge gain, so the Emperor shielded him from backlash. Ambitious man that he was.
‘An opportunity, though...’
Losing three Orc Masters at once was a huge chance. For territorial expansion.
With imperial support, assaulting and seizing a neighboring Orc city was feasible.
Success meant encirclement by three other cities, but with enough troops and aid, Regalia could hold like before.
Osram’s defense skills promised success unless enemy High Masters appeared.
Plus, knowing a “Master-slayer” berserker of unknown power held the line, Orcs wouldn’t mass easily.
They might just siege indefinitely, months or years, maintaining tension.
‘Emperor’ll decide anyway... No need to play the fool first.’
Decision made, Rokan returned to Regalia triumphantly with Osram.
Many Orcs survived, but core forces were decimated—a grand victory.
No immediate enemy push came. He ordered firm defenses as usual and awaited Berserk’s aftereffects.
If the Emperor commanded advance, fine—but no intent to burn his own funds and troops.
An imperial order would bring troops and gold support.
Thus, for Rokan, better to wait, crush new enemy commanders as they came. Investing here risked losing Regalia sunk costs.
Better to keep the Emperor from second thoughts.
‘Time to make a move soon.’
But the Emperor—having secured and stabilized the three bases Rokan offered—was no small-timer. His land lust was clear; odds of ignoring this chance were low.
Unless a bigger bait dangled.
“Ancient Emperor’s ruins, huh...”
So Rokan planned a juicier lure.
Reviving and controlling an Ancient Emperor would dwarf gobbling one or two bases.
Rokan’s current level: 283. He’d prefer hitting Master first, but this should suffice.
“Should be fun.”
A amusing idea using it had popped up.