Chapter 259: Rocket Punch (1/2)

Most nonhumans were physically stronger than humans, with the Mountain Tigers being an outstanding example.

That was obvious in how less than a hundred of them could build a sturdy stronghold even if they were assistant underlings and slaves.

Not even its gates would be outdone by the gates of most cities in the Eastern Continent.

If Gerald had been stunned by how Edward had blown up the gates, the chaotic charge of the Players into the wide-open stronghold after the gates were down left the knight reflecting if he had been entrapped by cultists and became one of them…

Some Players had summoned some seafood which looked bizarre from appearance alone. The critters would use their tentacles or suction pads to easily scale the ramparts of the stronghold, wiping out any remaining Hyena-men Priests…

Another Player had a ghostlike, see-through thing hovering beside him. He was clearly holding a sword, and yet mainly attacks his foes by smashing something resembling a tombstone down on them…

And then there was a Player who, upon seeing that his arrows were evaded by the Hyena-men he was aiming for, roared in embarrassed anger. He then tore off his clothes and morphed into a huge bear, rushing up to his targets and slapping them into puddles, before reverting to human form and continued shooting arrows at point-blank range…

Even the husky who Gerald felt doubtful about had raised his lance was yelling something like ‘Unlock the seals’, after of which the lance shone in myriad colored radiance, with a woman whispering in the radiance, saying something like ‘Unlocking first seal, permitted’…

Then, the radiance of the lance began to whirl, eventually become a rainbow-colored spiral that shot forward, dragging along the screaming husky and stabbing to death three Hyena-men that were trying to take advantage, piercing the stronghold ramparts before vanishing into thin air…

Gerald wasn’t sure if it was him or the world that has gone mad. Why are their weapons firing rays and beams? Was it magic? Sacred spell? Why would they have to scream the name of their skills before releasing it? Why would they have so many cool special effects even when swinging a sword?

Shouldn’t battles be more solemn and serious? Why are these people fighting like a bunch of mischievous children? And the kind who wielded devastating powers!

Moreover, the carnage of those skills clearly wasn’t an elaborate show of light and sound effects, but real magic and sacred spells.

The wildling tribes would never win against them if they fought seriously—no wonder they were so sure of their victory.

But the question is which church had so many believers with such powerful sacred spells?

Where did these people come from?

That was when Gerald vaguely remembered that they seemed to have mentioned the ‘God of Games’, a god he had never heard of in his young lifespan.

At the very least, He didn’t look like a ‘true god’ whom the Brilliant White Church and the Temple of Glory acknowledged.

While they were not as crazily evil like cultists, their behavior was still unfathomable—but maybe they really were cultists?

Gerald then turned toward the merchant whom he should be protecting.

Luckily, he still looked norm

But even before Gerald could finish that thought, he saw Marni throwing off the orange dagger he had, spreading his arms and assuming a bizarre pose.

“Can you do it!?” A Player who was running past asked.

“Of course!” Marni answered clearly and loudly.