Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

"Storm! Liberation!!"

Chapter 752 The Players' Counterattack

Armstrong's new change occurred almost simultaneously with Claudia's storm liberation, as if a creature had sensed danger in advance and launched a struggle and counterattack. Before reaching the 20% health limit, Armstrong broke free of his shackles.

[Skill activated, Hatred Forge]

[Skill activated, strengthens bones]

[Skill activated, Annihilation Barrage (Enhanced)]

The mountain of flesh was cleaved in two by the storm, Armstrong's shattered flesh raining blood down from the sky. His deformed body was torn apart, only his roots remaining intact. Having lost most of his flesh to the artifact equipment, Armstrong channeled the remaining flesh into the dangerous Magic Eye turrets. A new beam of fire charged, this time targeting the entire back row. No longer random, all the Magic Eyes focused on the priests, mages, and druids standing behind the warriors. Armstrong, unable to tolerate these repulsive insects, obeyed the core's high-level command: instantly heal them.

White bone fragments broke through the skin, covering the previously disgusting flesh like a layer of snow. The player's weapon only made a sound when it struck the exoskeleton. To injure Armstrong again, several more blows would be needed. This was a new bone addition from the BOSS, and Armstrong's pressure on the player went far beyond just artillery fire.

Hating the furnace, Armstrong burned his own flesh and blood, scattering the blessings of the evil god across the earth—a forced transformation ritual that broadly simulated the internal assimilation process, much like a greedy diner pouring their stomach acid and other digestive juices directly onto their food, and this gluttonous diner possessed extraordinary digestive abilities. The highest form of transformation doesn't create mentally unstable fanatics or atavistic, degenerate offspring whose bodies have become corrupted and incarnate; this transformation is perfect, so perfect that it directly transforms the living into a part of the evil god, a tiny unit assisting the original body, turning the living into the cells of the evil god.

Elsewhere, the Dream Elf is finished. But here is the Dream Realm, and Nightmare Armstrong has been corrupted by the game's Holy Light. The effects of the Forge of Hatred are suppressed, and players bathed in blood rain are merely afflicted with a curse—a curse that causes them to lose blood proportionally over time.

"One hundred seconds." Their bodies exposed to the scalding rain of blood, their armor offering no respite from the intense heat, Charles assessed their remaining time. If BOSS Armstrong's remaining health didn't reach zero within one hundred seconds, they would die. Everyone was in the same boat; healing spells might have allowed them to survive longer, but the priest was currently struggling to survive.

Armstrong's anemone-like body had turned completely white, and his forked magic eye turrets resembled straight tree branches, eerily beautiful in a way. A rain of beams streaked across the sky before everyone's eyes, and no one had time to stop it. Dream sprites rarely gazed at the night sky, and even fewer witnessed such a magnificent spectacle, like a meteor shower streaking across it. Humans have a custom of making wishes upon popular stars, and astrologers especially revere meteor showers, believing that fallen forms carry extraordinary destinies and can bring wondrous changes to their landing sites.

The annihilation cannon strike brought unexpected death. Charles was drawn to the flames, and the destructive beam exploded behind him. In the blinding light, he could no longer see. He couldn't see the figure in the white silk robe, the garnet staff she held, her smooth olive-green hair, or the beautiful jade necklace around her neck. He had once complained bitterly about the equipment that increased his physique, and was even more dissatisfied with the woman's game-playing attitude that only cared about appearance, but now, he harbored an inappropriate expectation for that necklace.

The curse of the furnace of hatred set Charles's body ablaze, the anguish in his chest threatening to explode from the flames, and chaotic memories began to interfere with his thoughts, making him feel as if he had returned to the past when he was revered as a general.

"Failed once again."

Faced with the descending tentacles, Charles Lord Nightingale, amidst the mental turmoil caused by the layers of curses, abandoned his defenses.

The cool, soothing sensation awakened the defender's consciousness. Charles' heart skipped a beat at the sight of the attack coming so close. He took a half step back with his right foot, hiding his entire body behind the tower shield and shifting his weight to distribute the impact to the ground.

"That's it?"

The taunt skill was successfully activated, redirecting all the additional attacks aimed at others to Charles. He quickly realized what had happened; behind him, a semi-transparent spirit of redemption embraced his head, its stylized angelic silhouette somewhat resembling Esenna.

The Soul of Redemption, which can only be activated after the priest dies, gave Esena an extra sixty seconds to purify the mental abnormality caused by the curse, and Esena brought Charles back to his sanity.

The strongest priest of the Dream Elf possessed the strongest tank, and Amstarang's artillery fire made the two merge into one within sixty seconds.

“Thank goodness it’s just a game,” Charles muttered, the burning desire in his heart dissipating. “I understand now, I simply can’t bear the consequences of losing you. I love you, after this battle is over, we…”

The Guardian Spirit (Esena) cast a Silence spell on the player Defender (Charris).

The Guardian Spirit's arms tightly embraced Charles's head, its fingers clawing at Charles's neck. The Guardian Spirit couldn't speak; the chill from behind silenced Charles.

The Dreamland players indeed had little chance left. Their backline had been almost completely wiped out, and without the firepower support of mages and various enhancement spells, the warriors could only launch a desperate counterattack. But they still had hope.

The Elf Queen, the Crown of Remnants, and the new archer Tiffany survived the artillery fire. She stood tall and proud, overlooking the battlefield like a banner.

"This is the final battle, warriors! Slay this weakened monster!"

The Queen's command greatly boosted the players' morale, and the warriors, suffering from the burning pain, poured all their physical agony onto Armstrong.

Tiffany sighed helplessly.

"Kylo, ​​you idiot..."

A cold voice came from behind Tiffany, and somehow, she experienced phantom pain in her lower back.

Kylo Rendezvous, the master assassin, emerges from the shadows.

"How did you survive the shelling?" Tiffany only saw a dark shadow flash by in the beam of light; she herself was unharmed.

Kylo Siren was completely shrouded in a black robe, acting furtively.

"Those are our assassin class's special skills: [Disarm] and [Defense Counterattack]. [Disarm] can disarm the opponent, preventing the enemy from launching their next attack. Against BOSS units, it can reduce the damage from artillery fire. I had already arranged for my squad to keep a close eye on those Armstrong cannons, and before the artillery fire began, I would do my best to [Disarm] those Armstrong cannons."

"The weakened bombardment might still be unbearable, but it has reached the damage range that [Defense and Counterattack] can withstand. So, I blocked the light cannon."

Tiffany nodded, indicating that she understood the combat logic of the game world.

"Thank you for your hard work, Captain Carol."

“It is my honor, Your Majesty.” Kylo retreated into the shadows, his expression indifferent, his arms twisted and deformed like charcoal beneath his black robes, as if they did not exist.

Chapter 753 Do you mind if I take one?

Arcalon, the eldest son of war, is an ambitious black dragon. From the day he hatched, he began to bare his fangs at the powerful and high-ranking beings.

The black dragon received power from his dragon father, and he delighted in and excelled at pursuing it. In his youth, he fought with Nia and Lyle; in his adolescence, he battled his dragon father; and after splitting the lair, he fought the black dragon priest Ormhead. Everyone—his parents, mentors, and siblings—knew that Alcaron was an impulsive, easily angered battle maniac, a mindless brute who constantly spoke of patricide and fratricide, a rebellious son.

Alcalon was happy to play such a role.

Yes, it's playing a role.

The eldest son of war did not obediently follow the teachings of the dragon priest; his rebellious nature made him scoff at Ormhead's pure brute force. During his early childhood education, he understood the importance of strategy, and during the weeks he was forced to submit to the evil god's juvenile form, Nia, he realized that the cheerful, often eccentric Lyle was far more dangerous than his half.

Lyle's unrestrained and malicious jokes left a deep psychological scar on the Black Dragon, after all, the Black Dragon was the most unruly brat.

Just like his black scales, Alcalon concealed his wisdom, and even his close blue dragon Kristor complained about his reckless brother.

“Superficial fellow, how could a real fool get along with a sorcerer?”

Alcalon loudly proclaimed his grand plan for rise to power every day, while recklessly provoking his father, his caretaker.

While other young dragons were leisurely enjoying their childhood, Alcaron was already growing up under the martial prowess of its dragon father.

Just as he boasted, he was indeed far stronger than his brother.

Arcalon, who reigned supreme among dragons in terms of military might, harbored restless ambitions that led him to expand into other areas. From the beginning, Arcalon had no intention of coexisting as an equal with the ancient humans of the Black Dragon Familia, which was also the initial reason he later invited Lyle to create Hell.

Alcalon had delved deeply into his own power, and the obsidian that grew on his scales was also developed by the black dragon.

The places where dragons dwell are often accompanied by countless gems; this is a characteristic of gem dragons. Arcalon has put considerable effort into finding these accompanying obsidian stones.

Obsidian is a high-quality magical material, its element is darkness, and it has a strong absorption effect on negative energy, making it immune to curses and other evil magic. However, when its energy storage reaches its limit, it can become a source of negative energy that spreads curses. Its sharp nature makes obsidian an excellent weapon material, and it can also break curses.

Obsidian equipment imbued with the black dragon's madness circulated among other dragonkin, and even the oldest dwarven craftsmen could find no fault with the natural gemstones used in their carving. Alcaron, however, used these pieces of equipment, imbued with his own aura, to secretly observe the families of each of his brothers and sisters. It's difficult to discern whether his motives were driven by a desire for control or a need for protection; on the surface, the black dragon seemed very attentive to his siblings. Each piece of obsidian was his eye, an extension of his will.

This time, the black dragon's claws did not miss the opportunity to touch the dream.

……

Dorudo felt like he was being roasted alive; the pain of his pores being squeezed only fueled the berserker's rage. His muscles trembled, and his muscular body, driven by fury, rampaged through the tentacles. Tissue cleaved by the axe exploded into a bloody mist, life force clinging to the berserker's crimson skin, healing this rampaging killing machine. Dorudo's mane bristled, and a black obsidian pendant, shimmering with crimson light, clung tightly to his chest. This epic accessory absorbed berserk energy, enhancing his berserk attack power and suppressing its defensive debuffs. A few wisps of dark red seeped from the pendant into Dorudo's blood energy, and behind him, the swirling blood mist formed a blurry dragon shape.

The berserker's guardian dragon noticed this alien warrior on the verge of danger. Far away in Sahazane, the black dragon raised its head, smiling and revealing its sharp teeth.

“Lyle really did it, turning aliens into my warriors. How interesting.”

With a shift in consciousness, the black dragon looked at the Dordo it possessed. The memories and thoughts of the berserker, infected by the same source of madness, were completely open to the dragon.

"Oh~ Dorudo Moonscar, the next generation's educator of the Dream Elves, truly a valuable prey." Alcaron clicked his tongue in admiration. The Nightmare's mental pollution was entrenched in Dorudo's mind, constantly eroding this tormented warrior. With a disdainful snort at the Nightmare's methods, the Black Dragon's will directly drilled into Dorudo's mind.

……

Dorodo was trapped in a nightmare. He understood his predicament, but there was nothing he could do. He knew that what he was seeing was a fabricated nightmare, but reason did not help him escape his fear.

“François… my love…” He saw his wife lying outside the door, the beast formed from nightmares gnawing at and assimilating her body, mud staining her hair, and a terrible wound severing her at the waist.

“Charles…Esena…” The Elder Council was collapsing, the Blackthorn Tower was bleeding, and his dearest friend cried and laughed as he plunged his sword into each other’s chests.

“Fanila…my treasure…” The legendary city had fallen. Fanila and the boy stood atop the city wall. She had lost an arm. The boy held her tightly, commanding the mages on the wall to make a final struggle. Fanila’s expression was one of grief and pain. The emotions that had gathered in her eyes, which were the same color as her own, reached their peak when she met Dorudo’s gaze.

Dorudo moved his head, letting out a muffled roar. He pulled a living leg from the corpse, took a few running steps, and his massive body transformed into a battering ram, crashing into the defensive barrier. He had become the vanguard of the nightmare, personally destroying everything. Those illusions, those sorrowful shadows—Dorudo was powerless against them. The weakness he had felt during the War of the Gods had become a dark cloud hanging over him.

"I want to become stronger..."

"To become powerful, to gain the power to fight against everything..."

"So captivating, it truly delights me." The voice from the sky was commenting on something, and as the voice rang out, Dorudo's body began to tremble, the trembling growing more and more intense.

Why? To be toyed with like this by that disgusting thing...

Why aren't you angry? Why aren't you furious?!

Dorodo understood; his body trembled with rage.

The nightmare collapsed, and the illusory sky was burned red. Those wandering shadows and twisted monsters were all destroyed under the shadows. Outstretched wings blocked the sky. Only then did Duoduo realize that the red was not the sky, but the madness erupting from the body of the dragon.

I am brutality, slaughter, bloodshed, and conquest.

[Arcalon, the firstborn son of war, your god, your benefactor.]

Worship me, Berserker, for I will grant you true power.

Go! Send that huge lump of vomit to its death.

Chapter 754 Believe Me

Armstrong entered his final frenzy; the collapsing Mountain of Flesh unleashed a torrent of madness with every attack. Its crimson tentacles lashed at players, inflicting massive damage, inflicting a mental madness curse, or causing them to explode. Organized tactical deployment was no longer possible; it was a race against time, a fight to the death. Either the Nightmare fell first, or everyone else fell. Tiffany ceased issuing commands, her bow and arrows tracing clear arcs through the air as she fired at the Nightmare.

Claudia launched her third attack. She no longer resembled a human; her smooth, porcelain-like face was covered in fine scales, and the growls that came from her throat were no longer low growls, but rather the sounds of a dragon's roar colliding with the howls of nightmares in the sky. The emerald dragon soared through the sky, and the artifact wrapped in storms also morphed along with her body in the green light, which was not surprising at all in those huge claws.

The dragon charged toward Armstrong, and the Storm Released Demon Sword plunged into the rift at the top of the Mountain of Flesh. Instantly, blood rained down, and the blood flowing from the Nightmare BOSS's head was as hot as molten lava. A deafening explosion marked the end of the collision between the dragon and the Nightmare.

Claudia, who was flying backwards, was caught by her brother Kristo. The green dragon, exhausted and facing the impact of the explosion, looked miserable. Kristo checked her over with concern and rolled his sister to the feet of the governor, Susanna.

"They're just superficial injuries, nothing serious."

Susanna smiled, but then realized it wasn't the right time and lowered the temperature again.

"That BOSS..."

Before the words were even finished, Armstrong's life bar, barely visible in the scattered white powder, was revealed. His sturdy skeleton allowed Nightmare to block the final attack; the artifact skill meant to finish off the last twenty percent of his health was blocked. All of Armstrong's demonic eyes flashed, his body bleeding, but the ants that had harmed him were finished.

[Skill activated...]

"Roar!!!" A sudden roar exploded between the two. The dying BOSS and the exhausted players looked at the writhing tentacles, where all the warriors were buried. The front row, who had gone mad and been swallowed by the tentacles, should have become part of the background.

The sharp edge cleaved the writhing limbs in two, and the enraged Dorudo stood amidst the corpses, covered in blood, a blood-soaked figure. A human-like fear flickered in Amstarang's large eyes, for at this moment, the berserker's aura was far more dangerous than his own.

At this moment, Dorodo has surpassed the player; his surging madness makes him seem more like part of a plot-driven kill.

All eyes were on Dordo, the arrogant black dragon who seemed to enjoy his pivotal position.