Chapter 278
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 278
Chapter Title: We're That Kind of Clan
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Players are superhumans.
As such, conventional weapons barely even scratch them.
In that sense, it's no exaggeration to say that Monarchs are the natural predators of armies.
Even the Magic Monarch, who was physically the frailest among them, could casually deflect bullets with his bare body.
Especially for a Monarch like Gula, specialized in vitality, tanking artillery shells or missiles was a walk in the park.
But that raises a question.
What about weapons not covered under those "conventional" arms—weapons specifically developed to take down Players?
And what if dozens of those are unleashed in a barrage?
Could even a Monarch walk away unscathed?
Regrettably, no one had ever found out the answer to that question.
Maybe in Africa, but...
Normally, Monarchs rarely ever had to fight armies head-on.
And even if they did, no idiot Monarch would bare-handedly tank attacks that dangerous.
But right now, at this very moment.
The answer to the question that had driven every military official and weapons developer mad with curiosity was unfolding in the heart of downtown São Paulo.
BOOM! KABOOM! KWRRR-BOOM!
Every time a missile loaded with explosive items detonated, the colossal body shuddered.
Special rounds that ignored defenses fired by the tens of thousands per second, piercing straight through its armor.
Napalm rounds crafted from level 90+ fire-type monsters erupted, searing its flesh with a sizzle.
Dungeon ore alloys.
Dungeon item enhancements.
Dungeon monster byproducts.
Modern weaponry augmented with every dungeon byproduct imaginable rained down like a hail of arrows.
Considering the price tag, it was no exaggeration to say they'd dumped Brazil's entire annual military budget—not, nearly a decade's worth—into this bombardment.
[You... puny insects, daring to...!]
And so, moments later,
Every soldier gaped in horror.
It was no exaggeration—they'd unleashed enough firepower to shave off an entire mountain.
Yet to them, the sight of Gula still standing after that insane barrage didn't look real.
But Gula wasn't unscathed either.
Only two heads left.
Exposed ribs on its flank.
Torn and charred hide.
Its body was little more than rags now; it was a miracle it was even alive.
Yet Gula had endured the entire onslaught and began regenerating.
Or tried to.
But its wounds no longer healed.
All it felt was an overwhelming hunger.
'Damn it, calories...!'
Gula gnashed its teeth.
The prolonged battle had already depleted its calories drastically, and now they were finally gone.
At this point, it couldn't even regenerate wounds; just maintaining this massive body would drain its blood and flesh dry.
Not to mention it couldn't dispel its monsterization while surrounded by hundreds of Green Dragon Clan elites.
In the end, it had to make a choice.
'Should I run?')
Whether dominating Brazil.
Or getting revenge for past humiliations.
It all required staying alive.
With its minions wiped out, thrashing around alone offered slim odds of victory.
On the flip side, it was confident it could escape now.
But after escaping?
Could it still call itself a Monarch?
Fleeing not once, but twice—wouldn't it just be treated like an incompetent pig?
To Gula, that was utterly intolerable.
[No, not yet! I haven't lost!]
Crunch, crackle!
"Huh?"
"That lunatic!"
And so Gula did something astonishing.
It began tearing into its own tattered flesh with its remaining two heads.
No matter that it was created by a skill—devouring its own body was pure madness.
But it wasn't insane.
Quite the opposite; it was utterly rational.
The immediate results of that action proved it.
Rumble-rumble-crunch!
"Regeneration starting again?"
"No, that's a mutation. It's reconstructing a new fighting form from the flesh it's eating."
"Still planning to fight... what a tenacious bastard."
Thanks to the power of Predatory Evolution,
Gula devoured most of its ruined body in an instant, reborn as a new monster.
The Green Dragon Clan frowned at the sight.
It wasn't suddenly stronger.
If anything, the opposite.
With only two heads left and its body mass halved, it was clearly weaker than before.
The problem was that Gula had returned to peak condition.
Meanwhile, the Green Dragon Clan was mostly exhausted.
Even their elite experts were starting to feel psionic drain and fatigue.
The battles against the Forest Guild and Gula had worn them down that much.
'At this rate...'
'We'll take heavy losses.'
No matter how weakened, a Monarch was still a Monarch.
Half-hearted human wave tactics were useless against an Absolute-class being.
Especially given Gula's toughness in shrugging off attacks from elite experts.
As with Maya, Gula excelled in one-against-many fights.
[Heh heh heh, come at me all together! I'll kill every last one of you!]
Gula brimmed with confidence.
With its stamina restored, the situation was nearly even.
More importantly, it still had an ace up its sleeve—one it hadn't used due to the risks, but still available.
Thus, it was certain of victory.
It had no doubts.
"No, the one who's going to die is you."
...Until a calm voice drifted in from somewhere.
[What...?!]
From right beneath its belly—the one spot it hadn't devoured despite stripping its body bare.
A place that should have been empty.
A voice that absolutely shouldn't have been there.
Above all, its beastly survival instincts sent chills down its spine.
In a panic, Gula hurriedly shielded its lower belly and tried to attack the voice's owner.
But by the time it moved,
The owner was already acting.
Using Chain Soul Severing Leg Style to forge blade-like fighting spirit, then splitting it into ten strands with Ten Perfect Dragon Claw Style.
Layering it eight times with Great Force Eight Merges Style to make eighty strands, then twisting them like ropes with Flood Dragon River Dispatch Style and merging them back.
The resulting eerie serpent of fighting spirit is concealed in the mists of Black Heaven Dark Soul Style, according to the principles of Void Advance Sword Style.
And with Flying Lotus Butterfly Style, it's ready to launch.
Thus, the Seven Absolutes.
Whether against top-tier Players.
Or armies numbering in the thousands.
A psionic mist capable of instant kills with one strike writhes in her hand.
But it's still not enough.
To fell the toughest vital-force monster among all Monarchs, she needs to draw even more psionics.
Delay any longer, and Gula will defend—or worse, relocate the core she'd finally pinpointed.
So she borrows power.
From the Green Dragon Clan encircling them.
And from the thirty-odd Grandmaster elites who'd secretly formed an array amid them, still conserving their strength—she resonates their psionics.
To infuse the mist with flows from Poison Dragon Blood Formation Style and Immortal Qi Art Style.
And the moment she slams that completed psionic mist into Gula's belly...
『Seventy-Two Martial Flows』
『Nine Absolutes United From Technique』
『Heaven-Reversing Hell Blade』
⟨ Reverse Heaven Hell Blade ⟩
SPLOOOOSH!!
Blood rained down.
And one colossal body collapsed.
The Seven Dragon Corps.
The ultimate strike force, with only one per clan bearing the dragon title.
Composed entirely of Grandmaster elites, their power was undoubtedly on another level from ordinary units.
But that's not the only reason they're the strongest.
Their true terror lies in one thing.
They can resonate psionics with their princess.
Allowing her to offload several martial flows when unleashing an absolute technique.
Turning the burden of a Nine Absolutes into Seven.
Or amplifying Seven Absolutes to Eight.
A difference of just one or two absolutes doubles or quadruples the power.
In short, a princess backed by the Seven Dragon Corps is several times stronger than fighting solo.
Of course, this only works with their own princess.
Not even the Seven Dragon Corps could resonate with another clan's princess.
Except for one.
The sole princess capable of forcibly resonating via mental-link psionics.
And right now,
The result of her commandeering the psionics of the Green Dragon Clan's strongest unit, the Poison Dragon Corps, was on full display before them.
"Guh, urgh, ah..."
Limbs torn clean off.
Flesh pulverized into chunks.
Blood splattered hundreds of meters away.
The gruesome scene was awe-inspiring in its horror.
The mountain-sized monster's body had been shredded from within, like a blade bomb had detonated inside.
"Damn, you... bastards..."
Even more shocking: despite being hacked to pieces, Gula still clung to life.
From what was once its belly,
A tattered upper body protruded upside-down from a massive chunk of meat, trembling.
It had barely reconstructed a human body in the instant it was torn apart, avoiding instant death—but that was it.
With its core damaged, it was dying faster by the second.
As death loomed, Gula pondered.
'Why?'
'How did it come to this?'
If its minions had survived.
If it hadn't wasted regeneration.
If it hadn't been distracted chasing the bluebird.
If it had blocked even half the missiles.
If, in its haste to reconstruct, it hadn't revealed the core hidden in its belly.
It wouldn't have ended like this in one strike.
But the psionic blades infiltrating like water into sand, shredding veins and spreading throughout its body, striking the core dead-on? Fatal.
"Not even a Nine Absolutes can kill you? Your life's tenacity is unreal."
And Gula realized.
There was no need to dwell on reasons.
The mastermind who'd worn it down using the Green Dragon Clan and the army.
The black curtain who'd hidden right under its nose, using bluebirds and drones to distract it.
The one who'd pinpointed the core's location.
And ended everything with a single strike.
Its instincts told it this black-haired girl was the culprit.
"You... cowardly...!"
"Hmm, not sure exactly what you mean by 'cowardly.'"
It spat "coward,"
But it sounded like praise.
The girl smiled faintly and turned.
"Right, Tsushian?"
"Just as you say. At this point, you've fought her more than fairly."
"...!"
Gula's eyes bulged.
Not just because the green-haired woman in gloves—Maya, the object of its hatred and curses—appeared behind the girl.
Her form was changing.
Green hair to black.
Sharp eyes softening to round.
Taut face wrinkling slightly.
When the changes finished, Maya was gone.
No power to interfere with perception like Rimon's constellation-borrowed transformation, but a disguise rivaling it.
Just Tsushian, master of Hundred Faces Shedding Style, wearing a meaningful smile.
"You... lot...!"
From start to finish.
It was all lies, deception, conspiracy.
The moment it attacked São Paulo, the outcome was sealed.
Gula trembled at the realization.
To him, the girl said lightly,
"Don't feel too hard done by."
For Players, levels often decide victory.
But the world isn't a game.
Matchups and stratagems let the weak slay the strong any day.
"We're the clan that specializes in this sort of thing, after all."
Espionage gathering intel.
Intrigue weaving plots.
And one more field.
Assassination, where they excelled above all.
They'd once dominated the world's assassin guilds and clashed fiercest with Rimon.
The Black Dragon Princess Li Chingwei smiled faintly.
And slowly stepped forward.
"Don't... celebrate... yet! I still have an ace...!"
Thud.
Gula, shrieking desperately, froze.
A light weight.
Half its vision going dark.
It couldn't comprehend why at first.
"You...!"
But only for a moment.
Gula's remaining eye widened.
Seeing the slender leg extending from the black dress.
It understood.
What covered its eye.
And what Li Chingwei had gracefully placed on its face.
Before this absurd humiliation could ignite fury beyond even what it felt for Maya,
"—Why would you think I'd let you play your ace?"
"...!"
Gula stiffened.
Li Chingwei gazed down coldly, smile gone.
Dull eyes without luster.
Emotionless, dry voice.
Above all, the mounting pressure from the foot crushing its face.
It guessed what this delicate girl intended.
"W-Wait...!"
Regrettably, Gula got no chance to say more.
As it opened its mouth,
The foot—imbued with unbelievable power from such a small frame—had already ground down.
CRRRR-UNNCH!