Chapter 207
Chapter 207
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 207
Chapter Title: The Merciless Finishers (2)
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Humans score a crushing victory in the troll outpost assault.
The news spread like wildfire across the entire continent.
- Ward: Behold, this is Rokan God!
└ Bloodied Blade: It's just war, what Rokan God? Humans had fewer numbers so they bunched up in one spot, while trolls had tons of outposts to defend, spreading their forces thin.
└ Quick Neti: No no, quit pretending you know. Rokan smashed the gates solo and took out all the masters. Tons of videos on YouTube. Go watch 'em.
- Trollrollollo: Damn, weren't trolls the strongest race? Even with Rokan, how do they get robbed twice by the weakest humans—and first, no less!
- StrongestSniper: Boneheads, get in line. Next outpost's undead.
The ripple effects reached the other fronts too. Losing yet another outpost meant humans could now target not just troll and undead bases, but goblin ones as well, sowing psychological dread.
Logically speaking, securing nearby troll or undead outposts first before pushing deeper made sense—but who could know for sure?
Pushing even further in and encircling them for an easy "snack" wasn't out of the question.
Such worries and unease inevitably affected the ongoing battles, shaking the undead users who faced half-elf charges with eyes ablaze.
Some users panicked and bailed even before the battle's balance tipped, while Golden Lion Alliance players, riding high, threw themselves even more fiercely into their racial battles, seizing the momentum.
'Hmm, something's off.'
But Rokan himself wasn't exactly celebrating. He'd cut down several master-level trolls amid the fray, yet something felt wrong.
Even if they'd rattled the enemy with an unexpected approach, the resistance was too feeble. And no high masters showed their faces this time either.
Trolls still had enough high masters left to overwhelm them overall—yet none were deployed.
'Even chalking it up to draw luck feels suspicious.'
Sure, they might've hit a base without high masters stationed. Or timed it perfectly while they were away on other business.
But the timing was too convenient.
So instead of relaxing into victory, Rokan doubled down on vigilance and prepped for the next fight.
He'd planned more downtime before the following assault, but his exploits kept casualties lower than expected.
"Sell, sell, sell."
Thus, he gutted the newly captured castle nearly bare.
He withdrew all territorial funds and liquidated every defensive fixture the trolls had used.
Even if trolls counterattacked while guards were away, it'd be harmless—they'd left it a hollow shell before marching straight to the next outpost.
But this time, not a troll base—the adjacent undead one.
'Pressing trolls is fine, but hitting here brings side benefits.'
Simple reason: Advancing on an undead outpost would bolster the half-elves just entering their own fight.
Undead would have to split forces, weakening them naturally. Concentrate on half-elves instead? That worked too—making the human assault a breeze.
"全軍待機!"
The human army, eyeing this, blitzkrieged the undead's next outpost and halted at a set distance once more.
"Assemble siege engines!"
They began setting up trebuchets, ballistae, magic cannons—siege weapons galore.
Creeeeak.
"……!"
Then, the undead gate swung open on its own.
No telling if they'd heard about the trolls or if it was standard tactics.
Undead relied on endlessly regenerating skeletons fueled by mana as main forces—field attrition battles beat holing up for a siege, maybe.
But they overlooked one thing.
Their foe was Rokan.
"Kai!"
Craaack!
Confirming them pouring out troops, Rokan mounted Kai and took flight.
He didn't charge straight in, though—waited for them to fully emerge.
Meanwhile, under the Thousand-Man Commanders, units formed battle lines; NPC troops fell back further to finish assembling and loading siege engines.
"Humans……."
"Die……!"
Clack-clack.
Amid rattling bones, the undead horde advanced.
Liches dotted the ranks, regenerating troops, cursing foes, and slinging spells—but humans held fire, per Rokan's orders.
They held position, awaiting the perfect moment.
"The legend rider, crimson meteor!"
Rokan struck first, as always. Kai, now a great peng, merged with him and plummeted.
Meteor-like presence.
It crashed to earth, unleashing a colossal shockwave that ravaged the ground.
"That one! Kill him first!"
A massive crater formed, pulverizing the area to dust—but undead numbers remained vast.
At a lich's bellow—user or NPC?—the rest swarmed to tear Rokan apart.
"Strike, lethal blow……."
Rokan, sending Kai skyward again, halted amid the shock—muttering something.
One oddity: his weapon wasn't the usual battle axe.
A massive iron mace gripped in his hand.
"……Bone shatter, cleave!"
Boom!
Just before the lead skeleton warrior's blade reached him, Rokan's upraised mace slammed the earth.
The ground rippled like waves, birthing a tremendous quake.
Earth Shaker!
The unique-grade weapon unleashed its special power: monstrous shockwaves scaled to impact force.
"Argh!"
"Uwaaagh!"
Every foe encircling him flipped ass-over-end. None could stand against the surging terrain.
They couldn't even attack—flung flat, plunged into chaos.
"……What the hell?"
"Is that even possible?"
"Attack, you idiots—attack!"
"Miss this bonus?!"
Humans reeled too in the surreal scene, but recovered quickest—Rokan had previewed it.
Squad leaders bellowed, urging assaults; soon, ranged attacks poured out wildly.
They couldn't enter the still-trembling zone, but spamming every long-range skill reaped kills aplenty.
'This could let us hit walls or gates directly.'
Even Rokan, wielder of Earth Shaker, was stunned.
But as the expected result, he regained composure first.
Ignoring the downed foes around him, he rocketed toward the stupefied inner keep defenders, frozen in shock.
Skreee!
"Graaaargh!"
Kai roared with great peng majesty; Rokan bellowed in frenzy. Undead knew no fear—but their cries shattered souls.
Rokan plunged at them again.
"Bombardment!"
Kaboom!
Just hurling hand axes nonstop—yet impacts exploded everything. Users, NPCs, summons—gone.
Truth be told, since earning the Myriad Slayer title, Rokan had become undead's natural predator.
The more combatants in battle state, the stronger he grew—making summon-spamming undead his easiest prey.
"Whirlwind!"
One light whirlwind shredded dozens, hundreds. Masters and up dodged quick, but fared no better.
"Doom Curse!"
"Bone Sabertooth Tiger, summon!"
Combo skills, master curses—none dented Rokan's absurd combat power. Even mighty summons crumbled.
Skree! Crumble-crunch.
Kai alone pecking with his beak reduced them to fragments.
High masters in combat struggled with sneak attacks—spellcasters, necromancers especially, couldn't dream of 1v1ing him.
'There.'
Yet Rokan rampaged with sharp eyes.
He knew: the wilder he went, the more masters and high masters he bagged, the fewer allied losses.
So he pinpointed high-levels instantly, lunging their way.
"Leaf Attack!"
He ignored the inner keep, barricaded and sieging with spells. Hunted high-levels in the outer walls instead.
Debuffs and sniper shots rained—but couldn't humble him.
Unlimited curses? Only the strongest single matching debuff applied—others nullified.
Diverse curses might work, but most users stuck to similar ones, failing to weaken him noticeably.
'Perfect.'
Rokan rampaged freely. Title buffs outstripped the debuff barrage.
Direct melee? Just middling summons or master-level scrubs.
Undead favored agility assassin types over power builds, racially.
Speed and senses? Rokan's titles put him leagues ahead.
Crunch!
"Damn it!"
"Don't fight fair! Just stall!"
Foes weren't dumb. Confirming his overwhelming power, they evaded combat ruthlessly—sacrificing summons to buy time.
Berserkers ended once duration ran out, after all.
Undead legions outside wiped in seconds; humans breached inner keep—but block Rokan, and victory was possible, they deluded.
Corpse explosions, Rise Undead—troops refilled somehow. Stall, drain stamina, seize momentum—they believed.
They endured like this for some twenty minutes.
Almost there. Greedily awaiting the counterattack, they mustered final patience.
Until Rokan used that skill.
"Time Regression."
Tzzzzzt…… flash!
In an instant, Rokan vanished. Teleport-like, utterly gone.
"……"
"He—he ran! The bastard fled!"
"Now! Wipe 'em out!"
Undead cheered, exploding mana in roars.
Overall war still lagged, but confidence surged with pent-up rage.
Corpses littered the keep exploded, birthing new unlife. Death's aura thickened.
"Uheheh! Cute tricks. Time for round two—Stormrage Incarnation!"
Until Rokan reappeared.
Round 2 began.