Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: Bombardment (2)
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Bombardment from the cliff above!
The one-sided barrage, taking advantage of the elevation difference, left even the level 150 enemy soldiers scrambling in confusion before they breathed their last. Sure, there was a level gap, but the attack power was overwhelmingly superior.
There were the occasional archers or magic-class users among them, but they were a tiny minority, and since Rokan prioritized taking them out, he never faced any counterattacks.
Arrows flying intermittently could simply be blocked or deflected with the Guard skill.
[You have leveled up.]
Hunting with consumable throwing weapons came with immense financial pressure. Even factoring in loot drops, it was an amount of money no ordinary user could dream of spending.
In his previous life, it had been a mage-class user—not a melee class like Rokan—who had discovered and executed this method, which said it all about how absurd it was.
But Rokan had pulled it off.
The money piling up in the shop even when he did nothing far exceeded what he was spending, allowing him to hurl cash off the cliff without a care.
In return, he was rewarded with experience points on par with that investment.
[You have leveled up.]
“Phew! This tedious grind is finally over.”
And so, after forcibly reaching level 150 through sheer stubbornness, Rokan's bombardment finally came to a halt.
No matter how infinite the hunting felt with all that money-flinging, repeating the same action in one spot for over ten days straight was mentally exhausting.
That was why he had decided to stop the moment he hit exactly level 150.
“Leveling's getting slower anyway, and at 150, the main scenario quest restrictions should be lifted.”
There was a reason the enemy soldiers appearing below the cliff were levels 140 to 150.
Hunting them further wouldn't yield dramatic experience gains, so there was no point in pushing himself to stay here any longer.
“Rune Book use, to Iron Response Outpost.”
After a quick stretch to loosen up, Rokan immediately returned to the outpost and reported his merits to the patrol officer NPC.
“Let me see... Yes, you—you really did all this by yourself?”
These were merits piled up through nearly a fortnight of grinding.
And as his level rose over time, his hunting speed accelerated to the point where respawns couldn't keep up toward the end, so it was no wonder the man was shocked.
“Yes, sir. Time to settle up.”
“Heh heh, a promising newcomer has emerged! Excellent. You more than qualify.”
[The rank system has been unlocked.]
[Your merits have been recognized, granting you the 'Soldier' rank.]
[Ranks can be promoted by accumulating merits and contributions to each kingdom.]
[Merit Points held: 324]
Rank was exactly what it sounded like—a rank.
He might have worried about being drafted into the army otherwise, but fortunately, thanks to the game's nature, users only got privileges and rights, no obligations.
Not that the Soldier rank came with any real options anyway.
'At least I can take out a bigger loan now.'
Even the few perks it offered meant little to Rokan.
But things changed once you climbed to mid-tier Soldier, high-tier Soldier, Squad Leader, Company Commander, and so on.
You could take war-related quests, command NPC soldiers on missions.
Quest difficulty and rewards would scale accordingly, of course.
But more importantly, there was something else.
'Merit Points.'
The Merit Points earned specifically from killing enemy faction members!
You had to join the rank system to start earning them.
'Until then, fighting's just a waste of time.'
Without Merit Points, wiping out the enemy faction was no different from plain old PK.
And those Merit Points could be spent at a special Merit Shop for unique items.
“Time to cut loose a bit.”
324 Merit Points early on was no small amount, but Rokan was still thirsty for more. He needed to farm a lot further to buy what he wanted.
And right on cue, the perfect environment for raking in Merit Points was starting to form.
“Rune Book use, to Crossroad.”
Rokan's now even more powerful body crossed vast distances to arrive at Crossroad.
“Fuck, again?”
“You bastard scum, guerrilla bastards.”
“Those assholes have had my quest stalled for three days straight!”
At the same time, vulgar curses flooded his ears.
They weren't aimed at him, but Rokan could guess who they were about without asking.
'It’s begun.'
Users from the Black Dragon Legion.
He had already seen on the homepage that fierce battles with the enemy faction were breaking out not just in Crossroad, but across all third-tier cities.
They hadn't joined the rank system yet, so all they could do was brawl, but with enemy gear being compatible and kills granting more experience than same-level monsters, they were camping quest zones, slaughtering anyone who approached.
'Gear and experience, my ass.'
No, the truth was different. It was just fun.
No matter how they dressed it up with fancy excuses, it boiled down to one thing.
It was fun.
The thrill of dominating, tormenting, and toying with the enemy—that's what drove it.
'That's the gamer instinct.'
Later, it'd be for Merit Points too, but mostly, it was for lording over enemy corpses and snickering.
That's why they pushed deep into enemy territory or launched guerrilla raids.
“Where are they?”
“Oh... the Sudden Hoof Boar area, but don't go there now. There's a party of about ten hanging around.”
Total strangers, but Rokan approached and asked directly.
Still fuming, they huffed but hesitated to ask for revenge outright.
In first- or second-tier cities, maybe, but from third-tier onward, the shared enemy faction had forged an invisible bond among allies.
If Rokan went and took out even one, it'd brighten their mood, but they knew it'd just mean throwing away another life pointlessly, so they tried to dissuade him instead.
“I see. Thanks for the info.”
Not keen on drawing attention, Rokan just acknowledged it and turned away.
'They've pushed all the way to the Sudden Hoof Boar area already. Must be looking down on us hard.'
The Sudden Hoof Boar habitat was a hunting ground not far from Crossroad.
It was even below the Tekalona Forest with the half-elf recognition quest, meaning the front lines had been pushed back across the board.
How had it come to this?
'Is it because of me?'
Maniac race and class picks usually meant better control and strategy, but even in his previous life, the gap hadn't been this wide.
Thinking about it, it made sense. Most people using Crossroad as their third-tier city had lost money and growth speed because of him.
Of course, it wasn't all bad. His shop's high-grade items, enchanted gear, and powerful crafted pieces would bridge the equipment gap.
'But money's the issue.'
The problem was few had the funds to buy them.
Only top guilds, teams, rich folks, and hardcore spenders could afford it.
So while top users wouldn't lag in combat power, overall faction strength was lacking.
Guilds could step in and clean house, of course. Top Crossroad guilds with superior gear could sweep guerrilla parties easily.
But at a point where they needed to level up too, they couldn't cling to the city forever.
'Can't rely on the guards either.'
What about the guards?
There were patrols outside the city—level 150s, sometimes solo, often in groups of two to five.
But would the enemy be crazy enough to touch them? They'd just let them pass and rule the world, crouching low until they were gone.
Most Crossroad guards wouldn't intervene unless the city itself was attacked.
“Perfect.”
Sizing up the situation, Rokan flashed a satisfied grin.
He hadn't planned this far, but everything was aligning in his favor.
Time to live up to expectations.
After quickly gearing up, Rokan summoned his black horse and galloped toward the Sudden Hoof Boar habitat.
“Ke ke ke, you idiots, you think that'll work?”
Pugh!
Rokan's charging view captured the culprits he'd only heard about. As expected, they were butchering half-elves and dwarves out for quests.
The area's level was around 110. They were probably level 120s.
With max levels at 130s excluding him, that made them high-levels.
And in a party too, so local users had no chance.
If they were berserker classes like Rokan, they might Berserk and charge, but without his insane stats, even that would end in futility.
Watching users fall, Rokan smiled whitely from horseback.
At the same time, he drew a hand axe gleaming as brightly as that smile.
“Bombardment.”
Squeeeee!
“Sh, sh—...!”
Boom!
The skull of one undead, lax in their comfy setup, flew off.
Power massively amplified, but Rokan's control kept the accuracy pinpoint.
One hit to near-death.
For non-tanky foes, instant kill territory.
That single blow snapped everyone to attention.
“Who the fuck is that guy?”
“Scatter!”
Enemy faction muffled their voices, but it was intelligible enough.
Some games blocked comms entirely between factions, but The Lord required occasional cooperation, so it allowed this much.
The Black Dragon Legion guerrilla party scattered swiftly.
Rokan hurled non-Bombardment hand axes wildly to scatter them further.
“Swamp... ugh!”
Trolls, undead, orcs, goblins.
Exotic looks unlike the usual—big advantage. Hard to guess classes.
Whether exploiting that psych gap or just mismatched gear, they wore ambiguous equipment, but Rokan zeroed in on the casters.
Movement speed alone gave it away, thanks to his vast experience.
“Lucky bastard!”
“You think a horse makes you invincible?”
“Hand over the combo skill recipe and beg, maybe we'll spare you!”
Unfortunately, they chalked it up to luck.
Two casters smashed in one go, but they didn't suspect intent.
That misjudgment brought disaster.
As they closed in to cut his mobility, Rokan spurred his horse and leaped skyward.
Squeak!
On the whistle cue, the black horse faded. Only Rokan, soaring high, remained!
“Stupid fuck!”
“We'll skewer you!”
Enemies jeered at the airborne, directionless fool, but Rokan's lips curled in an unrelenting smirk.
“Force, Damage Change.”
“...!”
Bombardment with battle axe, not throwing weapons.
A shell-like strike launched at the foes.