Chapter 81
Chapter 81
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 81
Chapter Title: The Lich's Hidden Lair (1)
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It wasn't that difficult to move deep into enemy territory. The areas along the route were low-level hunting grounds to begin with, and the Black Dragon Legion users who had already been badly beaten by Rokan weren't blocking the way much.
If they had blocked him, he would've turned them into bloody pulp without even talking.
'Now the real show begins.'
Rokan, who had advanced with such ferocious momentum, came to a stop on a hill where the Cradle of the Dead came into view.
Even with his control, gear, and titles all maxed out, assaulting a village crawling with level 150 guards required some mental preparation.
'About fifty of them, right?'
Calmly looking down at the village, Rokan racked his memory.
The guards protecting the village could spawn up to a maximum of 1,000.
But they didn't dump all 1,000 out at once for no reason. Including the basic garrison forces, they ramped up to 1,000 at most, and the number of spawned guards fluctuated based on the situation.
As far as Rokan remembered, the maximum number of guards that showed up appropriately against a single intruder was fifty.
It might not sound like many, but fifty guards spawning randomly between level 150 and 190 was a force even a level 200 couldn't take lightly.
'Not gonna be easy.'
So, could Rokan right now handle every last one of them?
Hard to say for sure. If luck was on his side, he might pull it off somehow, but the problem was 'regen.'
Even if he wiped out fifty guards, it would take time—and that meant fighting a fresh wave of respawns.
After catching his breath and steeling himself, Rokan abruptly kicked off a live broadcast.
[Black Dragon Legion turf, Cradle of the Dead—1-man war live feed]
No advance warning at all, but viewers poured in by the second.
Notifications went out to his subscribers, but plenty more jumped in just seeing Rokan's ID.
Once he'd confirmed people piling in for about five minutes, Rokan finally put his plan into motion.
Truth be told, the five-minute wait wasn't even for gathering viewers. He wanted word of his arrival to spread through the Cradle of the Dead.
"I am!"
Rokan's booming voice echoed across the Cradle of the Dead below the hill, reverberating through every corner.
Black Dragon Legion users who had been milling about in the village whipped their heads around to stare at him.
"The human berserker Rokan!"
Sring.
As he announced himself, he drew the rare-grade long sword he'd once put up as bounty money.
He popped up the item info for the broadcast, but he didn't really need to—everyone watching already knew all about that blade.
Even after some time had passed, it was still top-shelf gear.
At least half of all Korean The Lord players had probably checked its stats by now.
That was why greed lit up their eyes even brighter.
'No helping it.'
But there was no immediate rush like before. The lingering shock of that 500-vs-1 fight must've been too much.
That was all part of the plan, though.
Rokan slammed the long sword deep into the ground with a thud and made his declaration loud and clear—so everyone in the Cradle of the Dead and every viewer watching the stream could hear it crystal clear.
"From here on out, I'm changing the bet! You don't have to take me down—whoever pulls this sword gets to keep it!"
"......!"
"What?"
"Just pull it out? No fighting required?"
Chaos erupted.
The live chat scrolled by so fast it was illegible, and the folks in the Cradle of the Dead went from scowling at Rokan's antics to their eyes shifting in an instant.
If it was just yanking out a sword—no fighting or beating him—didn't they stand a real chance?
The hotheads were already bolting past the village edges, while thieves activated stealth en masse and charged toward Rokan—no, toward that rare-grade long sword.
'Yeah, that's more like it.'
Rokan's reason for pulling this stunt was simple: powering up to handle the guards.
Consecutive kills from his breastplate effect boosted attack and defense, and his titles cranked crit chance up to 10% max—he wanted every edge he could get.
Sure, it might mean facing hundreds instead of dozens, but trash up to level 130? He could handle that all day.
On top of that, his gloves massively improved Force efficiency!
"Krraaaang!"
Rokan let out a thunderous roar after gauging the enemies' movements.
The foes charging up the hill froze solid in unison, and the hand axes whipping from his grip rocketed out like artillery shells.
"Bombardment!"
Kwaaaang!
A few level 130+ highbies were mixed in among the charging Black Dragon Legion crew, but none of them could blunt the bombardment's power.
It registered as magic damage, so without elemental resistance, even tanks couldn't shrug it off.
The enemies had no choice but to eat the horrifying destructive force raw.
"Where to play next?"
Rokan had his own constraints, though. The instant someone snatched that sword from the ground, the enemies would scatter—so he had to fight while guarding it.
Leaf Attack was off the table, and Wheel Wind was heavily restricted.
'Penalties like this are what make it fun.'
Clang!
Rokan grinned anyway. He bashed the sword's pommel with the flat of his battle axe, driving it even deeper into the earth, then leaped at the incoming rush.
Kakang!
The enemies, having seen his combat prowess before, refused to meet him head-on. They twisted away to parry or glance blows—and that was their fatal mistake.
"Where you going."
Even at full throttle, they couldn't match him, so dodging or holding back? Fat chance.
His attacks were too fast to deflect properly and too brutal to just glance.
As if mocking their pointless efforts, every one of Rokan's strikes landed true, smashing the charging foes to pieces.
"That ain't gonna cut it!"
[Consecutive Kill! Attack and Defense each rise by 10.]
[This effect stacks up to 20 times.]
The system chimed in after he snuffed out two enemies in a flash. The berserker breastplate's built-in effect had kicked in.
Attack and Defense each up by 5—not once, but stackable 20 times over?
That came out to +200 each in raw numbers.
It was like slapping on an extra layer of armor and upgrading his weapon to a whole new tier.
Magic-grade turning rare-grade, rare-grade turning unique-grade—that kind of raw power, all funneled through his battle axe.
Whoooong!
And the vivid aura surging up around him! Who could stand against that?
"Hey, stealth is kinda cheap, y'know?"
Kwang!
Someone had snuck up to yank at the long sword—buried so deep the blade vanished—and Rokan plowed into him like a battering ram.
Force gathered in his shoulder, delivering an iron-block impact.
The guy didn't even register what hit him before his brain rattled and his eyes bulged.
A defense-weak thief showboating with a flimsy hood? Obliterated.
The sight sent other creeping thieves scampering in panic. Rokan's piercing glare felt like it was locked right on them.
"Alright, let's keep it going!"
'Krraaaang!'
The predator's bellow exploded out, signaling the start of the battle—no, the massacre.
The cry of madness, amplified with intimidation and fear effects, shredded their nerves and snapped their minds.
'Twenty of 'em will be a breeze at least.'
But Rokan wasn't truly lost to bloodlust.
Even in the frenzy of battling these greedy weaklings who knew they couldn't win yet kept coming, he tracked their positions, countered, and tallied the stacking buffs via system alerts.
[Consecutive Kill! Attack and Defense each rise by 10.]
[Effect has reached maximum stacks.]
And he was adapting flawlessly to his boosted power.
Even at max stacks, he didn't overextend—just handled the enemies steadily while getting a feel for the raw strength itself.
These weren't the real threats. The guards were.
'Time to get started.'
With every stat at peak and his combat senses honed to the limit, Rokan's hand axe cleaved empty air.
Not at the blade-wielding chargers—but at the distant fence.
Kwang!
The fence shattered under the heavy impact.
Poof, poof.
Guards spawned automatically in response.
It wasn't an interior attack on the village, but hitting the village at all was enough—now the guards gripped their weapons and charged aggressively to take him down.
"Uwaaaah!"
"Guards! This is our win!"
The enemies' morale skyrocketed.
Not a single one of them could take a guard one-on-one, so the "invincible" NPCs looked more terrifying than ever.
'Hmm, fewer spawning at once than I thought. Beat these down, and more should pop, right?'
Rokan, though, was looking down on them.
This wasn't Ash Town—just a puny Cradle of the Dead. No captain-tier high-level guards here.
Unless they hit level 200, they weren't a threat to him.
Plus, all guards used the same skill combos, so once you memorized the animations and timings, they were actually easier to handle.
Whish. Thunk!
The guards charging in with gusto ended up sprawled nicely on the ground together.
"N-No way."
"How do you even kill guards?"
"Guards can actually die?"
When their trusted guards—four of them—dropped in an instant, despair washed over their faces.
Their last hope was grabbing that sword, but with it rooted to the hilt, it wouldn't budge without serious strength.
Thieves who relied on stealth backstabs couldn't yank it out in one go.
"Wheel Wind!"
In that moment of hesitation, a whirlwind of blades swallowed them whole, turning them into hacked-up chunks of meat.
"Hey, you giving up?"
That's when it finally sank in. Their efforts were pointless. This game had been rigged from the start.
Seeing their desirous stares but total refusal to charge, Rokan smirked and yanked the long sword free.
He tossed it carelessly into his inventory and met the respawning guards head-on.
"From now on, the real war begins."
He tossed the line lightly to the stream viewers amid their frantic chat spam, like it was no big deal.
'Left to right. Horizontal slash, then quick right-flank stab.'
Guards had some AI, but they couldn't individualize every single one, so patterns existed.
Each had preferred attack patterns tied to their weapons, like martial arts forms.
Rokan knew them cold, so blocking, dodging, and countering was child's play.
"My God!"
"Guards—guards!"
Poof, poof, poof!
Users panicked and hurriedly summoned more guards as Rokan stormed straight into the village heart, cleaving them down.
Dozens of guards popped into existence from thin air.
He'd already cut down nearly ten, so even with forty more appearing, no additional spawns triggered.
"Kraaaang!"
Rokan's howl shook the entire village.
With the Lion King's Sealed Helm stacking onto the berserker breastplate's effects, even the higher-level guards faltered for a moment—and Rokan didn't miss a beat, secretly using a scroll.
"Mark."
A faint glow gathered on him, but no one noticed. He immediately unleashed Wheel Wind to sweep the surroundings.
Then, out of nowhere, he spun on his heel and bolted out of the village.
"Get him! Catch him! Don't let him escape!"
"Just grab his ankle—we win! He's outta mana for sure!"
Everyone latched onto hope again.
After fighting on the hilltop and dropping nearly ten guards? Yeah, they had reason.
Users poured out of the village in the guards' furious wake.
"Leaf Attack."
Luring them all the way back up the hill, Rokan made one final massive leap, pulled out his rune book, and warped back to the spot he'd marked inside the village.
The live broadcast cut off right then.
"Stealth."
Stealth followed.
Guard stealth detection was massively boosted inside the village, so normally he'd be spotted fast—but those forty-odd guards were still milling around on the hilltop.
That was exactly what Rokan was banking on.
Maintaining stealth, he Dash-Charged deep inside and spotted his target.
'Malodorous Beauties.'
The village's sole flower garden.
In this undead zone, the one spot teeming with vibrant life was, ironically, the hideout of the lich researching magic and death.