Chapter 269: Shoot that Motherf*cker (1/2)

To Vlad, Father of Nightstalkers, humans were creatures that suddenly appeared upon the world and, like ants, were so insignificant that they deserved not even the slightest of attention.

In fact, in the past era, they were nothing but food for Nightstalkers and low-grade food at that-something which a prestigious Nightstalker wouldn’t eat.

True, they never surrender and always gave their all in their quest to survive, weathering one apocalypse after another and even outlived the Nightstalkers themselves. Indeed, Vlad was actually in awe of their sheer tenacity that kept them alive unto this era.

But like how humans would admit that cockroaches were stubbornly resilient but would never regard the bugs as a thread, Vlad’s opinion of humans were that they are weeds, difficult to uproot but always multiplying rapidly even though there was nothing else virtuous about them.

And that perspective hasn’t changed even now, after his revival.

With that thought, the Nightstalker promptly unleashed a red gust that blew every Player coming at him off their feet.

“Fools. It must have been too long since the fall of the Nightstalkers that you vermin had forgotten the horrors that we are! None of you seem to understand the difference between my kind and your pathetic species-do you think you could do anything you want just because you have the numbers?” He growled in disdain, watching as the Players tried to get back on their feet while spreading the crystallized blood joints behind him and slowly floated into the air.

Meanwhile, the blood clouds in the skies thickened as he moved, and were no longer motionless. They flowed as if some enormous being was swimming within, with purple lightning bolts colliding and dancing in between, cracking in air-piercing rumbles audible even on the ground.

The air itself seemed to become stale. Edward, who barely escaped with his life felt his body hair standing on end-it was not goosebumps or a chill, but something resembling static electricity, which was actually causing his hair to lift slightly.

As thunder rumbled, blood cloud churned and the Nightstalker slowly rose to the air, it felt as if he was a world-ending demon king.

He then looked down upon the stunned faces of the Players from above, and continued speaking without a hint of emotion on his face.

“Well, you shall experience despair… Ack!”

The weather was clearly shifting and his charisma overflowing—the perfect debut of a superboss, declaring the moment of his return to the world.

It was a sight only seen in climaxes or when the game was about to end in any electronic game back on Earth, a CG cutscene so amazing that anyone would think that the studio had burnt out its budget.

And yet, just as the Nightstalker was about to conclude his grandstanding, one particular Tide Caller Player who was feeling an itch casted a Frost Tide and smashed it in his face, handily interrupting the Nightstalker.

Because it had happened out of the blue, every other Player turned by reflex towards the one who casted the skill even before they realized what happened.

Bewildered, he scratched his head and said, “Well… I did recover some mana and it felt like he’s going to yap on for a long time… SO…”

Back on Earth, it was equivalent to a player who always skips every story cutscene.

That being said, his skill didn’t inflict to much damage on the Nightstalker since Frost Tide was a low-level skill learnt soon after a Mage changed class to Tide Caller. Still, having his face sprayed full of whiteness left Vlad in overwhelming embarrassment.