"A true knight will never surrender to monsters like you!"
Sir Mitra continued shouting, entirely unaware that his defiance had already drawn several pairs of covetous eyes.
"Well said!"
A sudden burst of applause rang across the battlefield. Mitra turned around in bewilderment.
Before him was a burly half-dragon over two meters tall. With bloodshot eyes and bulging muscles, the towering creature raised a massive greataxe and sprang a dozen meters into the air.
"Then let's do this!" Tiansheng Zhankuang roared.
Having learned from his past demise, he had spent a small fortune having his axe enchanted, and he had even popped the berserker's Savage Strike, hell-bent on taking down this target.
Every ounce of his strength poured into the blow. The axe tore through the air, its edge wreathed in a dark red halo.
This was the classic barbarian "three-strike routine."
Or more accurately, just the one strike.
"Damn it, Brother Zhankuang beat us to the punch again."
"It's over. Once Tiansheng Zhankuang locks onto a mini-boss, there's no way we're snatching it."
"As expected of an ex-pro. Fast hands, man."
A chorus of dismayed groans rose from the players. All of them felt let down at missing out on the boss, already taking it for granted that the knight was as good as dead.
"How dare you look down on a knight!"
Mitra gritted his teeth, his expression a mix of fury and tension as he swung his longsword with all his might.
This was the strike he knew best, honed day in and day out through years of grueling training since childhood.
Time and again, he had cleaved off the heads of bandits and brigands with this very move, earning himself the renown of Mitra the "Keen Blade" throughout the Ferencz Viscounty.
*Come on! Show me the power of an evil dragon's scions!*
*This is a duel of destiny!*
In a split second, a swirl of thoughts flashed through Mitra's mind, and his resolve hardened even further.
"Dieeeeee!"
Meanwhile, Tiansheng Zhankuang bore down from above with unstoppable momentum.
*Slash—*
The sickening sound of an axe biting through metal and flesh rang out.
Under that tremendous weight crashing down from high above, Sir Mitra was cleaved clean in two from the crown of his skull, armor and all.
Before the realization of death could even register, the axe split his head, the resolute look lingering in his bifurcated eyes.
Yet the blood-drenched greataxe didn't stop there, burying itself several feet into the solid stone paving.
[You have killed an Ordinary Noble Knight (Challenge Rating: 2). Gained 100 XP.]
Tiansheng Zhankuang yanked with considerable effort to dislodge the axe embedded in the ground, his face a picture of stunned disbelief.
The other players cried out in surprise as well.
"Brother Zhankuang is cracked as always!"
"One-shot?"
"Looked so tough, and that's it?"
"Goddammit, he was dressed so fancy I thought his armor had to be at least a magic item. Turns out it's thin as paper! Pure decorative trash!"
"That's it?"
Tiansheng Zhankuang picked up a piece of sheet metal from the ground, effortlessly denting it with a pinch of his fingers. He scratched his head and began cursing up a storm.
"Wasted my ult on a basic creep. What a rip-off."
"I gotta make this back!"
His eyes burning red, Tiansheng Zhankuang whipped his head toward the surrounding soldiers.
A chill ran through the men as they felt the gaze of an apex predator fall upon them, and they began to tremble uncontrollably.
A roar echoed across the battlements.
"Die!"
"Help! Aaargh—"
"Fall back! Fall back! Don't get near him!"
Tiansheng Zhankuang charged headlong into the crowd, kicking off a full-blown dynasty warriors lawn-mower mode.
Xiaye Qiuyu fluttered lightly onto the castle wall. She wore no armor, dressed instead in the latest red gown purchased from the Radiant Beauty Boutique in Northwind Keep.
The soldiers seemed to spot what they thought was an easy target. Steering clear of the terrifying dragonblooded monsters, they swarmed toward Xiaye Qiuyu from all sides.
"Ah, finally here."
Xiaye Qiuyu watched the oncoming soldiers with an excited glint in her eyes, fiery sparks dancing in her golden pupils.
She delicately extended a slender hand. A brilliant fireball shot from her fingertip, darting toward the cluster of soldiers before detonating in a roaring tempest of flame.
*Boom!*
"Ah! A spellcaster!"
"Get down!"
Before the cries could finish, the soldiers were obliterated, leaving behind only charred, smoldering remnants.
And it didn't end there. One draconic bloodline sorcerer after another appeared behind Xiaye Qiuyu, each unleashing fireballs of their own in a relentless bombardment of the defensive line.
"Haha! Fireball goes out, turn to ash without a doubt!"
"Fireball reigns supreme across the universe!"
The sorcerer players cheered ecstatically. They were none other than the recently emerged Cult of the Five Fireballs.
A player named "Dugu Fashen" had once proposed on the forums: a five-man party of pure wizards all casting Fireball together would instantly delete anything in the game.
And just like that, a legendary sect had been born.
"Charge—!"
"The castle is ours!"
"For the Kingdom of Cinders!"
Under the players' fierce onslaught, it took less than fifteen minutes for the seemingly impregnable fortress to be reduced to a battered, crumbling ruin.
The garrison officers and soldiers were nearly wiped out to the last man. Even the few survivors had long since lost the will to fight, driven half out of their minds.
"An owlbear! An owlbear is flying in the sky!" an officer screamed in utter despair.
With that, he leapt straight off the top of the wall tower. Sadly, lacking the superhuman durability of a player, he hit the ground and splattered into a pulpy mess of gore.
*Whoosh—*
A wyvern swooped over the castle once more, and this time, someone leapt from its back—it was Mantou.
He tumbled into a series of rolls upon landing, bypassing layer after layer of defenses to drop right into the castle's inner sanctum.
These feudal lords had never once considered how to defend against airborne infiltration; to Mantou, the heart of the fortress was practically wide open.
"Open up! Water meter inspection!"
With a loud shout, Mantou kicked the door down.
The sight that greeted him was Viscount Horace, cowering in a corner and shaking like a leaf.
"D-don't kill me!"
"I beg of you, my lord! The House of Lotte will give you whatever you desire..."
Viscount Horace knelt on the floor, stripped of all dignity, whimpering in supplication.
"Gonna kill ya anyway."
"Who gives a damn about the House of Lotte?"
Mantou strode forward and ran his longsword straight through the viscount's chest.
A translucent protective barrier shimmered into existence around Viscount Horace, only to be effortlessly punctured by the blade as steel sank deep into his flesh.
"I'm not making the same mistake that Lang-beast made."
"Tsk, the video of him botching his flex got leaked by his own turncoat lackeys."
"This is oil of spellbreaking. Five whole gold coins for a tiny vial—cost me an arm and a leg."
Mantou pulled free the bloodstained blade, grinning smugly as he watched the notification for his contribution points tick upward on his interface.
The siege was already in its mop-up phase, corpses of soldiers littering every corridor and courtyard.
The players roamed freely through the castle, rummaging through chests and turning over cupboards, looting anything and everything they could find, as if ready to pry up every last paving stone just to check for hidden treasure.
Chapter 355