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Monster Soul Online
Chapter 331: Battle of Martial Gods — Last Part

Chapter 331: Battle of Martial Gods — Last Part

Chapter 331: Battle of Martial Gods — Last Part

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Trick Master was a very skilled magic-type player. Aside from the title Illusionist Warlord, he was also regarded as the King of Delayed Spells. Sadly, when it came to magic type, Montra was too outstanding, making him pale in comparison. That was why people often underestimated Trick Master’s true abilities.

Most players tended to look down on pure spellcasters, thinking they weren’t able to fight solo, but Trick Master had proved them wrong by showing that he could cast two spells simultaneously. Most of the time, he would start with low-tier spells to protect himself then gradually cast bigger ones to gain the upper hand. Eventually, he would reach the point where he could unleash high-tier spells to wipe out groups of enemies.

In Trick Master’s eyes, Sila was no different from other martial artists who entered the game and relied on their martial skills to take advantage of the realistic nature of the virtual reality game. This kind of player was abundant in Monster Soul. It made sense though. In a fight between players of equal strength, the side who possessed superior martial techniques would win.

Noticing such a fact, Trick Master had been honing his skills to counter martial artists. He focused on in-game spells to make them feel powerless. A man, even a great martial artist, couldn’t hope to fight against the miraculous power of magic spells. There were many martial artists who had died to Trick Master’s magic.

The powerful move Trick Master intended to use this time was one of his ultimate moves. He named it “Multi-Spells: Martial Slayer” based on the basis of having five high-tier spells merged together. He depended on Magic Delay to delay one spell after another, leading to him singlehandedly performing a difficult feat that normally requires five spellcasters.

As he was casting the third spell, Trick Master felt a chill run down his spine. He quickly shot thirty-five magic arrows in the direction of the danger he sensed.

The magic arrows slightly deviated, hitting nothing but walls. The fact that his invisible opponent could change directions of already released skills implied that they were a high-level psychic-type player.

Delaying the current spell he was casting, Trick Master activated magic power reinforcement while searching for his foe.

“Elso?” Trick Master guessed the attacker’s identity out loud. Based on the situation, it wouldn’t be strange for the Mountain Thieves League to send people to assist Sila.

Mysteriously, a young man suddenly appeared out of thin air. His plain white mask blocked Trick Master from seeing the man’s expression. The clear and clean psychic aura cloaking the man completely nullified the pressure Trick Master was emitting, making him break into a cold sweat.

The man wasn’t Elso. That was certain. Trick Master had never met anyone possessing such bizarre psychic power—a colorless one, reflecting its surroundings like a mirror made of clear water. The man didn’t give off an intimidating aura, yet his presence alone shuddered Trick Master.

The reason Trick Master could detect the man was because the latter had stepped into his magic domain, which was a small hidden world. Still, something wasn’t right. Outside of his domain, there should have been his trusted subordinates, namely the Twelve Illusionary Units, guarding him.

“Where are the others?”

“They’re dead,” Asava replied in a calm and peaceful manner.

Trick Master quivered from something he couldn’t explain. “I-Impossible! If a fight broke out, I would have sensed it!”

“You’re already dead, too. You just haven’t realized.”

Trick Master discharged a spell at Asava, trapping the man inside a cyclone, then shot a ball of electricity. The two spells combined, generating electric cyclones. Not only did it deal continuous damage, but it would also paralyze the target.

Sage of the Six Disasters — Reflecting Disaster.

The Reflecting Disaster was about the arts of borrowing and controlling the opponent’s power. Asava’s psychic power contracted into his body, changing his skin to become transparent, his bones almost visible. Trick Master’s combined spells didn’t merely phase through Asava, but were reflected back by Asava’s will.

“Argh!!” A painful cry rang out, though it came from Trick Master, not Asava. He was hit by his own spells. On the other hand, Asava leisurely walked closer, going through the spell effects without a single injury.

“Too bad for you. It would have been more fun if you were a martial artist.” Asava shrugged.

Trick Master might dare to proclaim himself as an expert at killing martial artists, but his claim amounted to nothing in front of Asava, who was a genuine killing expert.

Sage of the Six Disasters divided into six sub-arts, and each branched off into countless assassination techniques. Eminent Immortal’s inner force reserve was low compared to other profound practitioners. Despite that, everyone in the martial world dreaded fighting against him. His opponents must face off various sinister techniques such as stealing, swindling, hidden weapon art, yizichan, hypnosis, concealment, gambling, poisons, or even a seemingly unrelated art like architecture (Asava was able to analyze buildings with a keen eye, seeing through the possibility of the existence of a hidden room and accurately guessing in which room important figures are likely to stay). In conclusion, Asava, or rather the Eminent Immortal of any generation, was the best assassin a client could hope for due to the variety of techniques at his disposal.

Unsurprisingly, some profound practitioners looked down on Asava’s art, claiming that its discreet nature was a disgrace. The man himself didn’t care, however. For Eminent Immortals, their dignity came in the form of successful assassinations. The success was especially satisfying if their targets died foolishly without a single clue as to why or how. Such was the proudest moment for assassins.

“I’ve warned Montra, so it won’t be just a warning anymore.”

In fact, Trick Master’s eyes were already bulging under the mental assault of Drunken Disaster, the sub-art about hallucination and hypnosis, so Asava was technically talking to himself.

Asava took out a pellet, which he had brewed according to a traditional recipe. Flowers, plants, and poisonous insects in Monster Soul were very different from what one found in real life. This fact rendered most of the recipes of Blossoming Disaster, the sub-art regarding the use of poisons, useless. From a total of 108 recipes, only 14 were usable with the ingredients found, and even then their effects deviated from the norm. He had gone through trial and error to determine that the one pellet in his hand couldn’t be cured by ordinary means, including by healing spells.

Asava shoved the pellet into Trick Master’s mouth and forced him to swallow it. Soon after that, Trick Master’s body convulsed and his skin turned a sickly green. Asava took out a vial, removed the cap, and let the man sniff it. Trick Master’s complexion then returned to normal.

Checking the effectiveness of the pellet, Asava stared into Trick Master’s right eye and found a tiny red dot on the white of the eye. It seemed the unique symptom, which indicated the silent work of the poison, still showed up even in the game.

Still absent-minded, Trick Master’s eyes looked directly into Asava’s, unfocused.

“You’re heavily injured. Understand?” Asava planted a suggestion, to which Trick Master nodded in a daze.

Satisfied by his work, Asava vanished, leaving Trick Master behind.

Trick Master regained his consciousness a moment later. He felt like he had dozed off for a couple of seconds, his head a bit hazy. He shook his head to clear his mind and began to continue his spellcasting. As soon as he attempted it, however, he coughed out a mouthful of blood.

The magic domain collapsed. His headache came back, together with a high fever. He weakly fell down on the ground, lacking the strength and concentration to maintain his already delayed spells. He reappeared on the battlefield.

Noticing their leader falling over, Trick Master’s subordinates quickly ran to assist him.

“Sir Warlord! What’s happening?”

“I’m heavily injured. Leave this place to Shuran. Quickly bring me back to the guild.”

“Yes, sir!” Two of the players cast healing spells on Trick Master, but they had no effect on him. It was natural since Trick Master was basically fine and unscratched. Only, the psychic power that Asava left behind inside him brought him exhaustion. It also stimulated his bodily system to vomit blood periodically, making it look like he was injured.

Looking at the result of his work from afar, Asava felt content. His poison was incubating in Trick Master’s body and would show its dreadfulness in a week. Those who came into contact with Trick Master during this period would unknowingly help spread the virus. It would already be too late when they were aware of the outbreak. When the time came, the Heavenly Dragon Guild’s members would show symptoms of extreme headaches, vomiting blood, and losing consciousness. It would greatly help the Wicked Union’s situation.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

***

The lines of players surrounding Sila became thinner out of the blue. While the fierce battle against the Lamentable Dragon was still ongoing, Sila noticed that some players had left the encirclement. He was clueless about why, but glad. He finally got some breathing room to recover his qi.

The Lamentable Dragon was the toughest opponent Sila had ever fought, the living weapon’s vehement attacks slowly but surely cornering him. Having no time to gather his power, Sila had long since reached the point where all he did was use the Lesser Styles to fend off attacks.

Myth-Splitting Dragonic Qi was so ridiculously aggressive that it gave no openings for Sila to use magic-type skills. Whenever he was about to mutter a single word, the Lamentable Dragon would whistle, and that simple action would make the magic power in his body become frantic, even temporarily immobilizing him. To make matters worse, that flinch led to another deep cut on Sila’s chest. He didn’t dare to try using active skills again after that.

In fact, the Lamentable Dragon’s action was a critical ability that qi-type beings should have in order to put up a fight against magic-type creatures. The clearest weakness of magic-types was the fact that almost all of their active skills require the user to say the skill name. The most obvious counter was to forcefully interrupt their ability to speak.

Magic spells were fair and loyal. Even when the casting was interrupted, the already spent magic power would not be wasted, but instead return to the owner. Still, the process would halt the user’s movement for 0.1 seconds.

It was a well-known exposure—a split second weakness—among magic-type players. In any case, spell handling required timing, so high-level players rarely had problems with it. Most players belonging to other energy types didn’t know this though. In their eyes, the magic type was all about mindlessly casting and firing spells, which couldn’t be more wrong.

As the battle dragged on, players continued to bombard spells, masses of energy, and weapons at Sila without minding their surroundings. It was logical since the two armies weren’t on friendly terms. They were ready to seize any chance to weaken the opposing side in the form of collateral damage.

The Lamentable Dragon’s main target had always been Sila, but he was starting to find the surrounding weaklings annoying. Eventually, he learned to disregard where his stray sword qi might land.

The more intense and bloodthirsty the battlefield became, the more Dark Self and the Lamentable Dragon could display their true power. The central square of Zhongsuyuan City ended up becoming the two’s exclusive arena. The surrounding players were like background characters and stage props, whose sole purpose was to die in order to highlight the battle of two peerless war gods.

Nine-Styles Weapon Subduing Art — Greater Styles — Fist of Reversal.

Because of this, Sila finally obtained a window of opportunity to gather qi in order to unleash his finishing move. He drew his hand, sending palm energy forward. The Lamentable Dragon instinctively tilted his head to dodge it. The palm energy curved upward to the sky, ready to exert its mighty power that had once slain the Thunderbolt Dragon Raidola. Sila at that time needed the stacked effects of three pellets to reach the same level of power he was about to perform today. He lost a significant amount of qi in the process, but he was very confident in the move.

The palm energy exploded into a cyclone of powerful gravitational force. The ground, rubble, piles of battle gears, and numerous players were pulled up into the sky.

The players tried to escape from the ominous gravitational cyclone, but only a few managed to resist the force. Some of the Victorious Wolves Sect’s members possessed the Universe Momentum qi technique, so they activated it to bind themselves to the ground. Some tried to increase their weight using qi. Sadly, all their actions were in vain. They couldn’t resist the inevitable, only delaying their demise.

“NOOO!!” Many players screamed in desperation. Some begged for help and mercy. It was as if a typhoon was annihilating Zhongsuyuan City, lifting everything up from the ground and slowing grinding them together.

Among the players being pulled up, Ratri was one in the effective range.

“Ahhhh!!” Already halfway to the compressed gravitational mass, Ratri screamed. A whip formed by qi extended from somewhere, wrapping around her body and pulling her back down. Apparently, the wielder of the qi whip was Hong Tong. He had sensed something ominous the moment Sila shot palm energy and had retreated several steps back, out of the cyclone’s effective range. Still, Ratri was too close to it, so grabbing onto her slowly dragged his feet closer to the absurd pulling power. He quickly yelled at her, informing her to activate a special emergency teleportation item she had on her to get away from the predicament.

There were only two figures who managed to stay on the ground despite the immense pulling power. The first was Sila, who was the move’s owner. Fist of Reversal inclined more toward the principle of psychic power than it did toward qi’s, so he could control the scope of the effect it had on him. In any case, the presence of the other one brought him a headache. Sila essentially unleashed this move in the hopes that it would defeat the Lamentable Dragon. However, the dragon’s feet stood firm on the ground. They sunk into the ground, even. It seemed the Lamentable Dragon was using his version of Universe Momentum to pin his body to the ground. His weight seemed to increase by several tons.

Myth-Splitting Dragonic Qi — Grievous Momentum.

Still, forcing him to lock his feet in the ground was an achievement on its own, meaning the dragon could no longer use Flame-Dancing Dragon Steps. While Fist of Reversal failed to deliver a fatal blow, it did make the Lamentable Dragon lose a fearsome trait that caused Sila to be terrified at the start of the battle.

Sila had time to gather his power yet again. He maximized his qi circulation speed, his power fiercely running through his entire body. This was a golden opportunity, so he didn’t dare to waste even a split second.

“You’re just a mere weapon...! Be crushed!!” Dark Self roared in the place of Sila. Exerting his full strength, he punched the Lamentable Dragon’s solar plexus.

Nine-Styles Weapon Subduing Art — Greater Styles — Psychic Crush.

The punch landed in the pit of his enemy’s stomach, but the destructive psychic power inside it spread to every part of the Lamentable Dragon’s body. The psychic power contained black particles of qi, corroding the target from within. Sila poured all of his power into this move with absolute confidence that it would slay the dragon. The Lamentable Dragon’s skin was cracking non-stop, Sila’s power erupting from within. Eventually, his body exploded into sharp sword fragments, flying everywhere.

Sila was forced to step back and guard himself from the flying debris. The flash of the explosion was exceptionally bright. The remaining survivors soon all died from it. Just resisting the pulling power took all of their efforts, so they couldn’t save themselves against the sudden exploding qi swords.

Most parts of Zhongsuyuan City ended up as a gigantic deadly empty square, with not even a single piece of wreckage remaining. The battle today was the first decisive one of the second war event and also the one that players regarded as the most destructive despite it fundamentally being a fight between two people. At some point in the future, players would regard Sila and Revin as “Martial Gods” and refer to this epic battle as “The Battle of Martial Gods.”

Sila was panting heavily where he stood. Expanding his qi perception, he found that there was no one nearby, so he calmed his breathing and started to circulate qi to heal wounds and regain his strength.

—Squish!

An ominous sound suddenly rang out. Slowly turning his head back, Sila noticed the Lamentable Dragon, whose body was full of cracks but obviously still alive. The dragon’s right arm had penetrated Sila’s back, sticking out from his chest and sending sharp sword energy into his body.

Sila collapsed on the ground.

“Could it be... previously...?” Sila muttered weakly. His brain ran wildly, thinking about what might have truly happened.

Apparently, the Lamentable Dragon didn’t explode into pieces but used Worlds Crossing Bridge to drive Sila’s power away through his skin. He later hid himself in the group of smoke. The dragon was a weapon like Julia. As long as his Qi Concealment was active, Sila’s qi wouldn’t detect his presence.

[You have died. As you died during the war event, you won’t be able to log in again until the event has come to a conclusion.]

Sila was agape, totally speechless. Everything he had done fell apart. His participation in the war event had come to an end. The feeling he was experiencing right now was what people called “despair.”

But then there was a voice from heaven—or from hell, to be precise. It was a familiar, disgusting voice.

“What are you spacing out for? Cut the drama and get out of my way. I faked your status. You’re now regarded as dead. This thing won’t attack you.”

Sila was surprised to see that his body still remained intact, not dispersing into the light. Meanwhile, the Lamentable Dragon stood still. As he had killed Sila, he no longer had any clear objective.

Mamon walked through the group of smoke, a small female angel flying above him. She was sprinkling glitter on him, emphasizing his grand arrival.

“What a fool you were. Why did you fight a fighting maniac like that thing head-on? Against qi-types, I wouldn’t resort to using violence.” Mamon stopped in front of Sila and pointed at his own head. “I would use my brain.”

Seraphine landed herself on Sila’s shoulder, and the invading power in his body disappeared instantly. He felt warm and comfortable. All the wounds on his body were healed.

“Oi! Oi! Enough! Who told you to do that? Just saving his life would be enough,” Mamon complained.

“My deepest apologies, Your Highness.” Seraphine repeatedly bowed her head.

“Are you okay, Master?” Julia, who appeared out of nowhere, came to support Sila’s weak body, trying to feed him a health potion.

Sila observed the Lamentable Dragon, who tried to move his body but seemed to be unable to. All he did was slightly shake his body. There was no trace of his enormous qi reserve that he had used to fight Sila. His body was restrained by a strange psychic power. He glared at Sila, his eyes expressing madness and vengeance.

“What are you staring at, huh?” Mamon kicked the Lamentable Dragon in the face, knocking him down. The dragon fell backward without any part of his body reacting individually to the impact, as if he were a statue that had been knocked over. “Stay like that for a week, you fool.”

With his Sky Seer skill, Mamon had already discovered the condition that had to be met in order to conquer the Lamentable Dragon. It was to last for seven days in a battle against him and win. He possessed boundless fighting potential and an almost unlimited amount of power. To achieve such a feat in a fair fight, the only being capable of pulling it off that Mamon could think of was Lucifer. Other players or monsters had no hope at all.

“Julia, take this thing to the mansion,” Mamon ordered, and Julia obediently complied. She walked and tapped on the Lamentable Dragon, then they both vanished. She soon reappeared though.

“How could you do that?” Sila raised a question as he tried to get up. Julia shouldn’t be able to travel around so freely like that. Even Sila couldn’t come and go to his mansion as he pleased. Under the war event’s rules, there were many limitations to the usage of invitation cards. They must be used in a safe environment and there was a one minute delay before it would teleport the user.

“Nothing important. Just my crappy item summoning and reverse summoning skills,” Mamon shrugged.

Julia pulled Sila up and gently wiped the dust from his body. “I didn't know where I should keep him, so I put him in the garden as a decoration for now.”

Sila couldn’t even laugh at that statement. His previous grand battle turned out to be worthless and anticlimactic. He bet the Lamentable Dragon would feel the same.

“Anyway, why are you here, Mamon?”

“Clute said he met a strange item, so I came to take a peek. I arrived when you two were fighting and decided to steal all the glory. It’s weaker than I thought. I didn’t get to shed even a single drop of sweat. Well, I guess I’m just simply too strong. Kiekkiekkiek!”

No one responded to that remark. Until Mamon shot a glance at Seraphine, that is. She flinched as if she just suddenly recalled something and took out a pile of notes. Flipping it to the desired page, she began to read aloud.

“You are obviously the strongest in all three worlds, Your Highness. There shall never be someone who can stand up to your majestic might.”