See more on my P@treon.
[email protected]/Dreamerlord Just replace @ with a
Read 75+ chaps there
And we have reached second world there, it being Cultivation Online.
****
The empty battlefield was instantly filled with slashes.
Every direction—
Every angle—
Death.
It wasn't just a single strike.
It was a massacre.
A wide-area annihilation skill that left no room to escape.
[You have suffered 10,900 damage.]
[You have suffered 11,310 damage.]
[You have suffered 10,870 damage.]
[The experience of Tiramet's Belt has increased by 0.12%!]
[You have suffered 11,100 damage...]
...
...
...
[The First King title effect is activated.]
[A great king puts his safety first. You have lost 70% of your maximum health, so a shield containing the health you lost within the last minute will be created. All terrain adaptability has increased by 100% while movement speed and defense has increased by 10%.]
[You have obtained a shield containing 61,722 health.]
[You have suffered 9,870 damage.]
[You have suffered 10,200 damage.]
[You have suffered 9,930...]
...
...
[The experience of Tiramet's Belt has increased by 0.12%!]
[The shield is destroyed!]
Alan instantly teleported away.
"Just a single skill was enough to reduce my health by this much!!"
Alan was greatly alarmed now.
'Thankfully, I switched to magic…'
Alan thought as he stared at Madra down on the ground.
Alan didn't hesitate.
His mana surged violently.
"Let's see how you deal with this…"
He raised his hand—
And unleashed a barrage of magic.
Flames, ice, lightning—
Spells overlapped and crashed down toward Madra like a storm.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The ground exploded repeatedly as the attacks struck their target.
Puk!
Puuok!
[ Critical! ]
[ You have dealt 7,600 damage to the target! ]
[ You have recovered 912 health thanks to Elfin Stone's Ring! ]
[ The experience of Elfin Stone's Ring has increased by 0.2%! ]
[ Critical! ]
[ You have dealt 7,540 damage to the target! ]
[ Critical! ]
[ You have dealt 7,660 damage to the target! ]
[ Critical! ]
[ You have dealt 7,590 damage to the target! ]
Madra's body staggered slightly under the barrage.
"…I can't avoid it… I have really weakened…"
"Weakened…"
His hollow voice echoed faintly, almost like a whisper from the past.
Alan narrowed his eyes.
'Even with all that…?'
His expression turned serious.
'My magic is dealing less than 8,000 damage. I only used low-level spells, but still… the minimum damage should be around 10,000.'
He clicked his tongue.
'Madra…'
'He's a monster who combines both tanking ability and attack power.'
Even weakened—
He was still overwhelming.
"It isn't easy to use the sword with a body that is only bones. I can only use 100,000 Army Massacre Sword in this shape."
"...!"
Bosses who disturbed the story must be attacked by players. There must be room to defeat them. Unless they were a dragon that was made impossible to attack in the first place. Therefore, the S.A. Group would put in an appropriate arrangement. Based on the actions of the boss, the players could get a hint on the strategy.
Of course, it was up to the players to find the hint. The experienced Alan noticed that Madra's right hand seemed somewhat uncomfortable.
'Madra's hand bone is cracked!'
In retrospect, Madra was giving several hints. He emphasized several times that he was weakened, acted as if the hand holding the sword was uncomfortable, and said it was hard to use the sword with an undead body. Alan's brain was activated.
'Madra is the type of boss that gets weaker as we fight.'
There were occasionally bosses like this. The bosses were ridiculously strong, but weak when it came to endurance.
'Every time he uses the sword, his body will collapse and he will eventually self-destruct.'
It meant Alan only needed to endure the first and middle parts.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, Alan paused.
Wait… did I just think I have to endure? Alan questioned himself. Damn it… when did I start using such words? he muttered as he shifted back to his physical-type gear.
"Since you aree weakend I want to fight you properly now," Alan said as Madra looked at him.
"Are you mocking me?" he asked.
"No. I want to fight you properly as much as I can. Using magic, which is my forte, would end this match too easily. I don't want to do that," Alan replied as he took his sword.
A red energy coated it—it was sword energy—and then it turned golden. It was the activation of Holy Swordsmanship.
"That said… my swordsmanship is also very fatal against you," he added.
Madra laughed when he sensed the holy power.
"Ahahaha! I really did find great successor—powerful magic, sword energy, frost energy… and now even holy power. What else could I want?" Madra laughed as he moved again.
It was like a teleportation—he used a high-speed movement technique and appeared behind Alan, striking down.
But Alan was ready.
He used Reversal of Light and countered Madra's sword.
Madra's 200,000 Army Massacre Sword rebounded and slammed into his own body. His ribcage cracked from the impact.
[You have dealt 11,435,900 damage to the target.]
"Cough…"
It was an absurd amount of damage, but Alan wasn't surprised. First, he had reversed Madra's own sword technique back at him, and it was enhanced with Holy Swordsmanship, which added an additional 20% holy damage.
On top of that, with Alan's title granting extra damage against Demonkin and Undead types, this was exactly the kind of damage he had expected.
Madra staggered back.
A deep crack spread across his ribcage, jagged fractures running through the bleached bone as his entire skeletal frame trembled from the recoil of his own technique.
"…You…" he rasped, an unnatural voice echoing from within his hollow skull. Faint crimson light flickered wildly inside his eye sockets, trembling with disbelief.
The ground beneath him fractured, unable to withstand the residual force. Even the air felt heavier, tainted by the lingering holy energy that gnawed at his very existence.
Alan exhaled slowly.
His grip on the sword tightened, his expression calm and unshaken.
It struck at the core of his existence.
A faint crackling sound echoed.
Thin wisps of black smoke rose from the fractures in Madra's bones, as if the holy energy was burning away the deathly aura holding him together. The crimson glow within his skull flickered violently, unstable.