Chapitre 83: Chapter 82: Will Killing the Boss Drop Gear?
"Crush them! Kill anyone who dares stand in the way!"
The bandit leader pointed forward with his large spear, and the bandits pouring through the northern gate charged at the players, weapons raised.
These bandits didn't take the players at the northern gate seriously at all. In their eyes, these were merely illusions of native inhabitants summoned by the Restorer.
Logically, these illusions might be stronger than regular inhabitants but not by much. They surely lacked strong willpower and wouldn't have advanced combat skills. Plus, they were outnumbered.
The bandits, as demonic incarnations, feared no pain, no fear. They didn't need advanced skills—a simple charge would be enough to break through these native illusions.
Seeing these supposed natives forming a defensive line with shields, the bandit leader almost laughed.
All it wanted was to storm into the town and drag out the only real threat—the Restorer.
"Hold your ground!"
A player acting as a squad leader shouted, and soon the players at the northern gate were chanting in unison. Sharp sabers crashed down, met by raised shields, and the players retaliated with spears and swords, refusing to yield even an inch.
The bandit leader, wielding a massive cross-spear, was mounted on a black-smoke-emitting horse, charging through the players' formation and sending two shield-wielding players flying.
But when it looked back, no other bandits had followed. After it forced a breach, the players had quickly regrouped, blocking any other bandits from passing through.
Instead of leading a charge, the bandit leader had unwittingly charged in alone!
Looking back at the bandits that had joined its charge, they were being soundly beaten, pierced by spears, black smoke billowing from their wounds.
Though they tried to fight back, the players' resolve was far greater than they'd expected, each player standing firm behind their shields.
"What's going on?"
The bandit leader was confused, struggling to understand what it was seeing.
These were just supposed to be native illusions, right? A single charge should have scattered them!
Why were they so resolute, so skilled in combat?
These people were few, yet they showed no fear, even as their comrades fell beside them. Instead, they seemed to grow even more excited!
How could this be? These couldn't be mere natives! Even demons, with all their knowledge, had never encountered such fierce "natives" before.
To make matters worse, the bandit leader saw ten or so players surrounding it, weapons drawn, eyes filled with eager anticipation.
Scholar players hung back, ready to heal, buff, or use their righteous energy against the demon at the right moment.
Some players quickly exchanged ideas.
"This looks like a boss. Shall we take it down?"
"Think it'll drop good loot if we kill it?"
"From the offline event, it seems this game doesn't really have loot drops. But we could get our own rewards. Killing it could mean a warhorse, its spear, and its armor for us to pick over."
"Well, then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"
"Careful—this boss seems pretty tough. It knocked a couple of guys flying just now, remember?"
"Afraid of what? We get a second life anyway, and there are plenty of us!"
The players reached a quick consensus to attack.
In the trial realm, they'd each faced Eastern Yi generals alone. Now, with so many of them, why should they hesitate?
The bandit leader, though a demon, felt as if it were seeing ghosts.
It had never encountered "natives" who didn't flee from stronger demons but instead stared at its weapons and armor with greedy eyes.
Absurd!
With a scream, the leader charged, swinging its cross-spear at the players.
One blow could kill a regular enemy, or so it thought. But as it thrust its spear, a warrior player rolled to dodge, narrowly escaping the strike and even stabbing at the horse in retaliation.
"Hey, don't kill the horse! We might be able to ride it!" one player shouted.
Another player grumbled, "Forget that. Knock it off the horse first! There are a ton of enemies outside—let's get this done!"
The bandit leader was baffled, but its confusion soon turned to anger.
How could these "natives" dodge deadly attacks with such calm and discuss sparing the horse?
The leader charged at the two mouthy players.
They exchanged glances, wondering if the boss could actually understand them.
As the cross-spear swung down, one dodged aside, while the other barely had time to raise his shield, absorbing the hit with a loud crash, sending him flying.
The leader tried to chase him down, but the players swarmed, surrounding it with spears, swords, and other weapons.
...
"West gate breached!"
"Hold the line! Block the gap!"
"Assassin squad, prepare for an ambush! A group of bandits is moving into the residential area!"
Commands flowed across various channels as players coordinated and adjusted strategies.
The town's defenses were weak, and they hadn't had much time to prepare, so after holding for a while, the west side was also breached.
But the players weren't afraid; some were even thrilled. Defending from the walls with arrows was boring. Now, with the bandits inside, they could fight properly.
The two squads held in reserve had been getting restless, so they were more than ready to charge in.
The battlefield grew increasingly chaotic. Players and bandit forces clashed across the town, from the walls to the residential areas and the marketplace.
The tight formations broke as skirmishes broke out. Yet, even in smaller groups, players fought on without fear, thinking only of taking down as many as they could.
They'd noticed that the bandits were pressing deeper into the town, seemingly searching for something.
...
A rogue bandit with seventy or so elite bandits broke through the players' defenses, making its way deeper into the town.
The once-lively marketplace and residential area lay in ruins, broken walls and debris everywhere.
The rogue raised its weapon and shouted, "The Restorer might be hiding within the town! Find them and kill them!"
To the demons, the players were just illusions, summoned by the Restorer as expendable pawns. Killing them wouldn't matter if they didn't kill the Restorer himself.
So, they would dig through every building if it meant rooting him out.
The bandits stormed into buildings—but then, a wave of agonized screams filled the air.
"What, an ambush?"
The rogue was surprised. The area seemed quiet and desolate, not somewhere you'd expect an ambush.
But the bandits sent in to search were being picked off, even though no one outside could see the attackers.
The rogue gripped its saber, cautiously advancing over broken tiles toward the depths of the marketplace.
Ahead, a bandit corpse lay on the ground, black mist leaking from its head.
The bandits, controlled by demons, had strong vitality and rarely went down with a single blow.
But this one was killed with a precise dagger to the head.
"A skilled assassin? The Restorer himself? Strange, there seem to be multiple assassins…"
The rogue's dark eyes scanned for threats, sensing the uncanny nature of this scene.
Then, a shadow silently dropped from a nearby rooftop, swooping down like an eagle.
Black mist condensed around the rogue as it drew its saber, ready to counter the attack.
It prided itself on its sword skills, confident it could take down this attacker.
The saber struck, stabbing the figure—but as the rogue saw the woman's face, she drove her dagger down through its skull with ruthless precision.
Fueled by a "Berserk" skill, her final attack was unstoppable, even as the saber pierced her.
The rogue had no time to understand why these "natives" were so fierce. As the black mist faded from its body, it perished.
The woman, too, collapsed, her form soon fading as she entered her soul state to await revival.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone