Chapter 208
Chapter 208
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 208
Chapter Title: The Last Hit Tribe (3)
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Humans' advance. Two strongholds captured.
It hit both users and NPCs alike with considerable shock.
Humans—not only pegged as the weakest, but known to have lost much of their strength in the ancient emperor incident—had toyed with trolls and undead, top-ranked among the eight races.
Even if humans boasted strong cohesion and decent legion effects, it simply didn't add up.
Nor had a bunch of master-level humans popped up. Other races knew full well that humans, brimming with endless 'potential,' could sometimes become extraordinarily powerful upon reaching master level.
Perhaps that was exactly why they deliberately belittled and crushed humans.
'Yeah. They'd be confused.'
Yet among all visitors across every race, including humans, only one had achieved master level: Rokan.
And the results that one person had wrought were beyond comprehension.
In such circumstances, they'd surely be agonizing over whether to chalk it all up to visitors—to Rokan alone.
'News should be coming any moment now...'
But they had one more shock in store.
[Taming Master has occupied Olfran Castle.]
[Snail has occupied Holdron Citadel.]
Those who'd received special missions from Rokan, slipping into dwarf, gnome, and half-elf units, had succeeded at 'snatching the last hit.'
Thanks to them, humans snagged two more strongholds. As planned, Taming Master and Snail—who devoured the finishing blows—handed territory rights over to Rokan and bolted from the scene.
[Taming Master has transferred all rights to Olfran Castle to Rokan.]
[Snail has transferred all rights to Holdron Citadel to Rokan.]
The infamous 'Pants Run'!
They had zero intention of weathering the backlash and fury headed their way. They tossed the territory window like a hot potato, ceding all rights before hightailing it out.
Backlash erupted as expected, but they were long gone by then.
"Perfect."
Rokan wasn't there either, but he grasped the gist via the territory management window.
Dwarves, gnomes, and half-elves packed the castle grounds, standing there dumbstruck and at a loss, as if still clueless about what had just transpired.
They'd relaxed in relief at a successful assault, only for occupation rights to get yanked away—small wonder.
They might even let it slide in hollow defeat. War was unpredictable, after all. And even as a human stronghold now, it didn't bar them from using it.
Of course, Rokan had no plans to demand usage fees right away.
"Adjust tax rate."
Instead, he slyly bumped it up—from 10% to 25%.
A full 15% hike, but spotting when it'd changed would be tricky. The assault had just wrapped, after all.
After seizing an enemy camp's city, the era of peace had dragged on too long for anyone to hit the shops and check tax rates immediately.
Unless users scoured homepages and such, pinning down tax rates for specific enemy strongholds was no easy feat.
"Uh, excuse me, Lord Rokan?"
At that moment, two from the operation returned: the pair who'd handed territory rights to Rokan—Taming Master and Snail.
The other users were no doubt gnashing their teeth, steeling themselves to land the last hit in the next fight.
"You did great. Time for your rewards as promised—titles and lands."
[Titles of Baron granted to Taming Master.]
[Titles of Baron granted to Snail.]
Rokan welcomed them with satisfaction and kept his word. Baron or not, he bestowed titles and carved out portions of his own territories for them.
Sure, they'd automatically join his faction, funneling a cut of their taxes back to him—but they'd still pocket a tidy sum.
Splash some cash or rack up more merits, and they could piece together a full territory like a puzzle.
Rokan stressed that point before sending them off. If they could pull it off, go for it—more rewards would naturally follow.
'Business is all about military supplies, after all.'
With them sent packing, Rokan reopened the territory window, beaming proudly at the taxes piling up in real time.
Dwarves, gnomes, and half-elves were pouring fortunes into gear repairs, consumables, provisions, and the like.
Ordinary users might not notice, but sustaining an NPC army demanded massive logistics—impossible to source entirely from home base. So they relied heavily on shops in captured strongholds.
That was Rokan's aim all along.
'Jackpot.'
For those who'd 'snatched and run' with the last hits, he'd tossed scraps from his lowliest territory—pure profit on his end.
Thus, he fired off letters to the three Golden Lion races.
"This should do it."
1. A human 'visitor' somehow ended up with management rights to the castle—pure accident.
2. Shocked himself, he washed his hands of it and donated to the nation.
3. As national assets now, returning them is tough—but no residency fees. Use freely, comfortably.
Wordy, but the gist boiled down to those three points. He never planned to charge for stronghold access anyway.
Absurd coming from a visitor himself, but with marquis status and maxed affinity/reputation with the other three races, no one called him out.
"Not sure how long they'll tolerate this."
Heh.
The replies were boilerplate: they got the gist, no issues.
They viewed it as a fluke 'incident,' taking no harsh measures or staking fierce claims.
But how long could they keep that up if it repeated?
Rokan wondered when they'd finally snap.
With those two getting solid rewards in plain sight, others would go feral chasing last hits.
More refined, more cunning.
He had no doubt 'Korean gamer' flair would snag even more strongholds.
"Time to push here too."
And he never forgot his commander role.
Confirming trolls hadn't tampered with the gutted, abandoned strongholds he'd snatched, he redeployed forces for more captures.
After ample rest and resupply, they took them one by one.
* * *
'They all want the same thing.'
The Golden Lion Legion's war dragged on surprisingly long.
Dwarves and gnomes stuck together like glue, synergizing for sky-high win rates, sweeping orc and goblin strongholds.
'Half-elves are straight-up obsessed.'
Half-elves stalked undead strongholds relentlessly, almost creepily fixated.
They'd been facing off against undead anyway, but this was overkill.
No one knew why, but Rokan had a hunch.
Payback against timber that could've become world trees?
'And humans... even I'm surprised.'
Humans boasted the highest win rates.
Rokan led charges, funneling national assets—high masters and masters—into single battles for low casualties and high wins.
All thanks to ditching defense.
[Set operation mode of Iceland Castle to commerce-focused.]
Humans started with pitifully low forces compared to others.
So Rokan minimized defenses across strongholds, flinging them wide open instead.
Not human-only anymore—open to all Golden Lion forces.
He even set operations to commerce mode for smooth logistics.
But he triggered one quest.
Territory defense quest.
Users could voluntarily take border patrols via quests.
'Blowing this place up hurts more than just humans.'
As former Black Dragon turf, it offered fresh appeal amid saturated hunting grounds, plus easy consumables. They wanted to hold it too. Quests were novel and generous.
Thus, Rokan focused purely on offense.
'Steal back whatever they take.'
Even if trolls or undead launched recapture raids, quest-takers could stall while Rokan hit enemy strongholds with main forces.
It happened a few times—they lost strongholds back—but reclaimed them.
NPCs wouldn't gut treasuries or sell facilities like Rokan upon recapture. Reclaim, and he profited.
Minimal investment, and trolls/undead would still need resupply post-recapture.
Taxes piled up regardless.
"Hmm, less pushback than expected."
Amid this, human users' 'last hits' popped up now and then.
Started as secret directives, but now rumors spread like gospel among humans—no need to spell it out.
Occupy a territory, hand over ownership—get 'titles' and 'lands.'
Didn't specify 'last hit' condition, but edging out master/high-master NPCs left no other way.
Now some even snagged ownership via last hit, then pitched deals to Rokan first.
"Suck the juice dry first... works for me."
No downside for Rokan.
As it piled up, rightful claimants griped—but he slithered past, stressing the 'greater war win' against Black Dragon Legion.
When scrutiny mounted, he pivoted to 'post-war talks.'
Who knew if they'd hold strongholds till war's end? Renegotiate territories after.
"Of course, it won't be free."
They'd still pay steep for rights then.
No reason not to butter them up now.
Humans had already snatched nearly ten strongholds.
Alarming speed.
Built on his own prowess, sure—but Black Dragon's feeble fractures made him uneasy.
He knew their true power wasn't this weak.
"Huh... wait."
Scanning the battlefield map, something clicked. Discovery fit better.
Positions of breached strongholds versus bypassed ones aligned too neatly.
Distance and wedge breakthroughs made sense at first—but what if enemies intended it?
No master-level+ in recent fights? Suspicious.
"Marquis! Big trouble!"
"......"
Right on cue, a knight burst in with dire news.
"Rear strongholds are falling fast to invasions. In a straight line... At this rate, we'll be encircled. On the verge of isolation."
The Black Dragon Legion's massive counteroffensive had begun.