Chapter 276
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 276
Chapter Title: Found It!
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Clang! Kagang!
"Ugh!"
"These damn poison freaks!"
"Hmph, you beast bastards sure talk a lot!"
The heart of São Paulo, once bustling with life.
Now it was a warzone piled high with the ruins of collapsed buildings.
Barbara swung her twin swords fiercely amid the chaos.
Having mastered the Poison Dragon Blood Star Style, she couldn't unleash her full might against the Forest Guild members equipped with antidote items.
But even without her poison, Barbara was an elite warrior of the Green Dragon Clan at the grandmaster level.
With her body enhanced through biological manipulation and honed martial arts alone, she could chew up and spit out most high-level players.
In the midst of the fray.
Barbara suddenly widened her eyes.
She readjusted her grip on a single spear and hurled it like lightning.
Splash!
A guild member, unable to block the sudden spear, was pinned to the wall like an insect specimen.
"Watch your back properly, Arvela!"
"Hmph, you should watch yours first!"
Arvela, realizing too late about the guild member trying to ambush her from behind, let out a slight scoff.
She led her squad straight into the flanks of the Forest Guild group that had been about to pincers Barbara's unit.
The Green Dragon Clan's elite squad.
The Forest Guild's players.
Two forces, each powerful enough to conquer a continent, were fighting with everything they had.
But the battle was far from evenly matched.
The Green Dragon Clan had barely any casualties, while nearly half the Forest Guild members lay dead—proof of the imbalance.
There were two reasons why the Forest Guild, which should have been evenly matched against the Green Dragon Clan, was being pushed back so hard.
One was that they'd scattered early on to avoid collapsing buildings and couldn't respond to the sudden ambush.
The other was the formations used by the Green Dragon Clan.
The Lesser Vajra Shattering Formation that granted immunity to blades and pierces.
The Thirty-Six Arhats Formation that bestowed the power of heaven and earth.
The Lightning Tempest Strike Formation that summoned storms.
The Seven Dragon Society's formations not only amplified psyonic energy but also came with unique effects, making them inherently strong in group battles.
Even so, the Forest Guild might have held out somehow.
The real problem was how exquisitely the Green Dragon Clan wielded them.
The Lesser Vajra Shattering Formation formed an ironclad wall up front, the Lightning Tempest Strike Formation whipped up a storm to shake the guild members from behind, and the Thirty-Six Arhats Formation smashed the backs of their heads.
It wasn't just adding 1+1 to make 2—they multiplied it into 3 or more with intricate, precise coordination.
That was forcing one-sided losses on the Forest Guild.
"Why the hell did these bastards suddenly get so strong!?"
"Fuck, what kind of sorcery is this!?"
Even after their forces were halved, the Forest Guild members still hadn't realized why they were being overwhelmed.
It couldn't be helped.
The Forest Guild was infamous for being a ragtag bunch.
Strong in chaotic individual brawls, but utterly vulnerable in organized group fights.
And the Green Dragon Clan was equally thrilled by this overwhelming dominance.
Even though they were the ones fighting, the Black Dragon Clan back at Ketzalcoatl HQ was the one pulling the strings.
'To create this kind of gap with just commands...'
Arvela clicked her tongue in amazement.
Just as cavalry must charge swiftly, infantry hold firm, and archers strike from afar to maximize their potential.
The Black Dragon Clan's command exploited each formation's strengths to corner the Forest Guild, revealing why they were known as the clan of schemes.
And refining that command even further was the supreme art they were using now.
Telepathic Secret Transmission Style.
A martial flow that enabled communication with distant foes through psyonic resonance.
In truth, its utility had waned in this era.
In the old days, issuing precise real-time commands from afar was revolutionary, but now anyone with a communicator could do it.
Yet every clan still passed it down for one reason.
Masters of Telepathic Secret Transmission could achieve truly perfect 'real-time' command.
Kududuk!
[Tactical objective AZ1274—PI661 achieved. Proceed to AK1291 within 24 seconds to execute PI427.]
The moment a goal was reached.
The next step to victory flashed into mind.
[I'll show you the optimal route to the destination.]
The instant surroundings were scanned.
A map with shortcuts appeared in thought.
[PI427 is the Level 82 player, Fierce Dog Marquis Akarus. He pretends to use claws as his main weapon, but his specialty is biting. Weakness is...]
The moment facing the enemy.
Pre-collected intel on the foe transmitted instantly.
Vast information that would take seconds at best, minutes at worst, if spoken.
All of it flowed naturally as thought itself, transcending sight and sound in the blink of an eye.
It was a marvel.
Moving hundreds of troops in perfect sync without even 0.1 seconds of delay—the pinnacle of command that every general dreamed of.
'The Black Dragon Clan's Telepathic Secret Transmission is on another level.'
Of course, other clans could manage something similar at the squad level.
That was why every squad included a Telepathic Secret Transmission master.
But the Black Dragon Clan, born with mental affinity, took it to another realm entirely.
The delay in transmission.
The volume and detail of information.
The command range.
It felt like the gap between a brick walkie-talkie and the latest smartphone.
And they were pulling this off across dozens of squads...
Arvela finally understood why the usually discordant Seven Dragon Society always handed command to the Black Dragon Clan in alliances.
"No, it's over now!"
"You idiot! You think you can run from here and survive the Sovereign!?"
"Fuck you! We're about to die right now—what do I care about later!?"
Under the Black Dragon Clan's command—thorough to the point of brutality—the Forest Guild finally began to crumble.
The officers tried desperately to control them and keep the fight going.
Nine out of ten who fled now would die en route, and even the one survivor wouldn't be safe.
But it was futile.
They were bound by greed, not loyalty like the Green Dragon Clan, which stuck together even in desperation.
Nothing held them in this pinch.
"Sovereign, please do something!"
In the end, their hope boiled down to one thing.
Gula reversing the tide even now.
Or at least buying them time to retreat, like Maya had.
A vain hope indeed.
Not just because Gula wouldn't sacrifice himself for them.
He was in a far graver pinch than the Forest Guild members.
[Y-Youuu, eaaat thiiiis!]
Kwang!
Gula whipped kraken tentacles like lashes.
A mere graze obliterated everything in horrific power.
But it was useless.
As it had been all along.
The seven attendant-level Green Dragon masters effortlessly dodged his strikes.
Then their counters severed tentacles, bashed his head, and Gula ground his teeth.
[XXX! You zombie bastards, just die already!]
Thousands of hits taken so far.
His own strikes landing a mere dozen times.
Against anyone else, that might have inflicted serious damage.
The problem was they were Green Dragon Clan.
With inherently sturdy bodies and self-healing via biological manipulation, they were incarnations of indomitability.
They didn't die easily, and wounds healed fast.
"Hahaha, why don't you drop dead first."
"Jeez, even a Sword Master would've died after this many beatings..."
"The Sovereign lives up to his title, huh."
But the Green Dragon Clan was just as exasperated by Gula's tenacious vitality.
All were attendant-level masters.
Superhumans who had perfected one of the Seventy-Two Martial Flows.
Yet their tank-shattering blows had landed thousands of times, and Gula not only refused to die but kept regenerating and rampaging.
Even the tenacious Green Dragon elders had to marvel.
Thus, their fight dragged into a war of attrition.
With equally resilient life forces, landing a killing blow was tough.
'This won't do!'
A razor-close battle.
But if asked who had the disadvantage, it was Gula.
His guild was collapsing.
Once this ended, he'd face hundreds more Green Dragon elites.
No way he'd survive that.
Worse, his Absolute Skill had a fatal flaw.
'Before my stockpiled calories run out, I have to...!'
Predatory Evolution.
The Absolute Skill that grew stronger with every bite.
In exchange, it guzzled calories.
That's why he always gorged to stockpile.
But even that was nearing its limit.
Prolonged fierce battle in the calorie-heavy 【Behemoth】 state had drained his reserves.
At this rate, he'd starve before they beat him to death.
Gula had to wrack his brains.
'Can't run. That ends everything.'
'Can't smash these guys right now either.'
'Need to catch the one controlling them.'
He ruled all through terror.
Fleeing again meant losing everything.
Brute force wouldn't work.
One option left.
Capture and crush the shadow moving the Green Dragons—or at least block further interference.
'Where are you.'
Gula rolled his eyes.
Three per head.
Eleven eyes spun, excluding regenerating ones out of eighteen total.
'Where the hell are you?'
He didn't expect the shadow here.
But such precise command couldn't rely on communicators alone.
Sending was one thing; receiving required something on-site.
'Drone? No, decoys.'
His own movements.
Positions of the seven masters.
The squad and guild battle status.
Drones alone couldn't track it all precisely.
Evidence: precise commands continued despite him destroying dozens disguised as accidents amid the chaos.
Something more special.
Not fixed in place.
Positioned to monitor the field.
Beyond mere camera feed, relaying real-time situations.
With that conviction, he ignored charging masters and scoured for the shadow's 'eye' for a while.
Then, abruptly.
Gula halted.
Having swept the area with every eye and monstrous sense, he'd spotted something.
Something he'd overlook normally.
But on closer thought, a scene brimming with incongruity.
In this chaotic warzone, not fleeing but perched calmly alone on a high building's railing—a creature.
As if the world's greatest fun was spectating fights, and even better when your side won.
Continuously watching him.
Their eyes met for the first time.
And it casually averted its gaze like nothing happened.
Staring at the adorable bluebird with a micro-camera collar around its neck, Gula bared the most ferocious grin across his six heads.
[—Found it.]