Chapter 461 (2/2)

With a short hop, she had stood on top of the troll and shot arrows until it overbalanced and fell, finally realizing it was dying. Annie hadn’t even spared Drake a glance but his face flushed uncomfortably. Part of the reason was he wasn’t used to the heavy bone armor at that time, but the other reason was that he was clearly the weakest one here. It wasn’t a lesson he would forget.

Not that he would let anybody past him if he could help it, but no longer did he worry about what would happen if he did. Which, in turn, lowered his stress, and allowed him to basically protect them completely.

Drake grimaced. Not so today. Not only were the numbers higher than usual, but the Death Cultists were a tier higher, in terms of power than what he was used to. It was difficult for Drake to quickly finish off those he wounded, and more and more poured forward. It was a good day, however, because he had gained his second Level of the day, putting him at Level 44, but Ptolemy had to come join him at holding the middle of their formation. Although their healer wasn’t able to do much damage, he was adept at keeping the opponents off balance, earning Drake precious seconds in which to do his dirty work.

Time slowly blurred together, split only by quick swigs of Stamina and Mana Potions. But they were slowly getting pushed back in a very dangerous manner, but there was nothing that Drake could do about it. Again, he felt his face flush as his lips pressed against the dried vomit. He was strong, sure, stronger than he had ever been, but in this moment of need, all he could think is that someone else would have to perform some feat of daring, opening up a path to hope.

Because with his abilities...

“Rhaidon!” A scream cut through the sounds of battle and blood wet flesh. There was a groan behind him, but he dared not turn, focusing on the six-armed frog creature in front of him, groping towards him with slimy hands.

“I’ll fucking kill you, you bitch!” The voice continued, and there was a scream that Drake imagined was something akin to the old animated series he watched in college, where the characters would scream their emotions out, rapidly growing in power.

But then he heard a soft whisper, and then the sound of an impact, and then there was silence.

“Solar Flare.”

Thump.

Drake dispatched the frog in front of him, then paused to reach up and scratch at his helmet, trying to scrape away the vomit. But his bone gauntlets were too large to fit through his breathing hole, and he was forced to hiss in frustration.

Calmly, Alana walked forward, patting him on the back in a companionable motion while she advanced. “Good hold, we are almost through this-”

There was a rumble behind them, causing Alana to pause briefly, before she resumed speaking, talking loudly so everyone could hear. “-there might be a shit ton of them, but they are relying on the Death Cultists to apply pressure. The rest are just fodder for-”

There was another rumble, louder this time, closer. Then there was a sound that, almost impossibly loud, started as a roar of a lion, then slowly slid upwards into the pure clarion call of a trumpet, before finally descending into the hacking cough of a creature dying from the inside.

Following that, there was silence. Then a rush of noise as the monsters around them turned tail and fled. The Raid Dungeon crew tensed up, raising their weapons, but the monsters just fled, running back towards the forest from whence they came. Of them all, only the Death Cultists remained, gathering into a pitiful group that was only 1/10 of the manpower they had when they had come, following the Ghosthound’s lead.

Drake was surprised to see there was even a Grey Death Cultist remaining amongst a tight knot of Red Death Cultists, missing an arm, but otherwise looking rather healthy. The call sounded out again, following the same strange arching pattern. The rumbling grew louder.