Chapter 222
Chapter 222
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 222
Chapter Title: Orc Berserker Krokchui (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
It was a choice that was entirely predictable. Turning back now might be too late anyway.
Now that the orcs had launched their counteroffensive, the split forces would struggle to hold the defenses.
Of course, they might serve as reinforcements and secure victory, but if they failed...
If they were routed, there would be nowhere left to fall back to.
Moreover, the enemy had bolstered their ranks with conscripted NPCs, but even all together, their forces barely numbered five thousand.
It didn't make sense that an army of over thirty thousand couldn't overrun them.
Even with casualties, the only solution was to swiftly reclaim Nihilman Castle and then dispatch splinter reinforcements.
“Prepare volley fire!”
In response, Krokchui immediately countered.
He would step in only at the end. Gale Incarnation had a time limit drawback.
Even if it meant sacrificing NPC soldiers and yielding the outer walls, he needed to conserve his master skill.
“Fire!”
But one final chance would suffice.
“Rider of Legends, Gale Incarnation!”
After ordering the defending forces to unleash a volley, Krokchui leaped down from the walls alone.
Unleashing Fenrir upon the world once more, he transformed into a giant and began sweeping through the enemy ranks.
“Damn it, how do we take that thing down!”
“What the hell are our masters doing?”
Catapults, ballistae, wide-area spells.
That much was manageable. There were casualties, but the attached mages and user contributions minimized the damage.
However, the wolf-giant duo rampaging freely across the battlefield, heedless of attacks, was utterly unstoppable.
Every path they carved left countless corpses in their wake, and while attention was diverted, undefended siege weapons and area spells rained down.
“Arrrgh!”
“Casualties!”
Even attempts to pin down its ankles failed; it moved with blinding speed, flashing east and west.
It was enough to make one consider unleashing area attacks, casualties be damned.
But everyone knew that minor life-drain skills meant nothing against that master skill built on Berserk.
“All masters, assemble! Take it down!”
In the end, the enemy commander made the call. Nothing could be done without capturing Krokchui, that mad orc.
Initially, orders had been to avoid engaging, block, or evade as much as possible, but realizing Fenrir made that impossible, he summoned every master-level user and knight on the field.
It was a bit unfair—a gang-up—but it seemed the only way to handle him.
“I’ll hold it. Support me!”
The commander volunteered as the tank himself.
He knew losing the commander could turn the unit into a rabble, but he couldn’t leave such a dangerous task to others.
As a high master, he was one of the strongest three on this battlefield.
Especially in close quarters, pure tanking—he had confidence against anyone.
Not winning, just enduring. If the other ten masters attacked with their master skills in the meantime, he firmly believed they could at least force it to flee.
“Shield Charge!”
So he activated a generation skill, raising a shield brimming with aura, and thrust it forward.
Leading with a heater shield that covered his entire body, he charged straight at Krokchui’s approach.
Naturally, it would dodge. It had mount charge power, but he was a high master.
If it arrogantly collided, he could knock it off; if it dodged, the follow-up was ready.
“Rampage Chariot!”
“……!”
But the arrogant one was himself.
Confirming the charge, Krokchui sneered and accelerated. Leading with his overwhelmingly enhanced charge, he smashed right into it.
“Guhk!”
“Severing Strike!”
As the foe bounced away like a bowling pin, a massive battle axe came crashing down on his flesh.
“Fool… ish…….”
Why hadn’t he used a master skill from the start? The opponent’s enhanced abilities were the master skill itself.
Before he could blame his mistake, a burning sensation hit his waist, followed by emptiness as something vital slipped away.
A torrent of blood. Maybe even his soul.
Krokchui’s great battle axe cleaved his waist, unleashing a fountain of blood.
“Mad Slaughter.”
But Krokchui didn’t stop. Unleashing his finisher, Mad Slaughter, he ensured the foe’s end.
A tragedy born of one moment’s lapse.
“No!”
“Damn it, eat this!”
The rest screamed in response, but some seized the opening.
Aiming for the backlash after a powerful skill, they slashed at the mad orc berserker’s neck to end him.
“Kraang!”
Then Fenrir counterattacked.
An orc’s mount was no ordinary wolf. It was a combat unit in its own right, boasting tremendous fighting prowess.
Now evolved into a legendary being, it could devour average master-level foes whole.
Blocking Krokchui’s path, it lashed out with savage claws and tore with stalactite fangs.
Dwarves a touch over half human size, and smaller gnomes, looked like mere snacks to the gigantic Fenrir.
Crunch crunch.
Their small, rotund bodies rolled like candy in Fenrir’s maw, skewered on claws like kebabs, losing all direction.
To cling to life, they flailed desperately at Fenrir.
“Krahahaha!”
“Awooooo!”
Krokchui and Fenrir howled together, plunging the enemy into terror.
The other high masters and masters shifted to defense, needless to say.
That chilling roar skill, which visibly sapped even master-level stats, evoked the illusion of facing the SSS-rank ranker, Rokan himself.
“D-Damn it!”
“An incredible monster’s appeared.”
“Anyone got contact with Rokan? No normal master can stop this!”
Overwhelming violence crushed the strong-willed. All they could do was pray this hellish time passed quickly.
Berserker-types had what users called an “expiration date.”
Of course, it didn’t apply well to the fearsome Rokan, even with aftereffects, but Krokchui wasn’t Rokan.
If they could just push him into aftereffects, they believed they could finish or flee from him. With that faith, they began desperate resistance.
‘Easier than expected.’
Past life was a cheat fight. It held true even in one-versus-many battles like this.
Before unrealistic might and overwhelming strength, “mob mentality” didn’t manifest.
Perhaps it was the title effect nullifying legion buffs and fear immunity.
But that was just one factor.
Krokchui’s control—artistic in its ferocity and precision, not mere brute force—enabled a lone figure to rout tens of thousands.
“Tch. No choice.”
After butchering foes for some twenty minutes, Krokchui suddenly turned and retreated toward Nihilman Castle.
“It’s fleeing!”
“Ch-chase it!”
But they only shouted; no one pursued. They knew turning back meant death for them.
So they yelled empty threats while retreating from the walls, widening the gap to catch their breath.
Screeech, boom.
No need for Rokan to climb the walls; the gates opened perfectly timed from inside.
A clear vulnerability, yet the enemy didn’t twitch. As the gates rose and they vanished from sight, relief set in.
[Gale Incarnation duration has ended.]
[Re-incarnation impossible for the next 1 hour.]
[All stats reduced by 20% due to Gale Incarnation aftereffects.]
Soon, the aftereffects penalty hit.
It had been quite a while since he’d felt them.
“Waste to use this.”
He could use Time Regression. Reset Gale Incarnation’s cooldown for another rampage.
But that would be too obvious.
Krokchui’s role wasn’t just to side with the Black Dragon Legion and slaughter the Golden Lion faction. He couldn’t reveal he was Rokan yet.
So Krokchui gladly bore the aftereffects. An hour—he could endure somehow.
Especially against foes this terrified.
“Now’s our chance! Break through!”
“End it before his Berserk aftereffects wear off! Hurry!”
They’d bought time with one retreat, but the enemy wasn’t stupid. Knowing time favored them overwhelmingly, they forcibly rallied morale.
Before that devil Krokchui returned, they squeezed their soldiers once more to assault Nihilman Castle.
“Pour everything out! We cross the walls no matter what!”
But there, their blunder showed.
Terrified by Krokchui boldly reappearing atop the walls even in aftereffects, they dumped combo skills and master skills alike to destroy the gates.
Master skills varied, but average cooldowns exceeded ten hours.
Many were twenty-four, and destructive ones even longer weren’t rare.
And they wasted them breaching outer walls held by mere NPC soldiers.
“Using their aces.”
How could Rokan not laugh?
Master-level beings were strong without master skills, but user control reduced them to surmountable threats.
The orcs’ main force waited not on the outer walls, but inside the inner keep.
“Full retreat! Into the inner castle!”
NPC soldiers joined them. The modest inner keep brimmed with troops like blood sausage.
Krokchui planned to stack corpses into mountains if needed.
And the plan worked perfectly.
[Successfully recaptured Kitanro Castle.]
[Completed Desperate Defense quest.]
[Leveled up.]
By stubbornly holding out, they barely blocked the enemy until the time limit.
‘Somehow, it worked.’
It should’ve been tough originally. Numerical inferiority, plus the enemy’s bolstered masters and high masters.
But whenever enemy masters or high masters moved, Krokchui showed himself—playing a huge role.
Each sighting made them flinch and hide, letting them endure sieges that should’ve broken through multiple times.
The finale was Krokchui’s giant form.
Charging on Fenrir mowed down the packed passage troops.
Securing space, orcs filled the gaps swiftly; dwarves and gnomes attempting re-entry were stalled by the rampaging Krokchui, achieving nothing.
Thus, Kitanro Castle fell first, completing the Desperate Defense quest.
Now, only one thing remained.
-Krokchui: Scatter on your own!
Leaving final words via group chat, Krokchui was first to abandon the battlefield.