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Stuck as a Dungeon Mob - Chapter 415

Published at 21st of November 2021 05:10:26 AM


Chapter 415: 415

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In the royal capital of the Bosque kingdom, Pith, the initially worried and restless people learned to calm down. The battles for the capital were bloody, but not enough to affect their day-to-day lives.

"Your Majesty, the capital will run out of food if we don't do something soon" A new royal advisor told the new king. The person atop the throne looked down at the person with a discerning yet indifferent gaze.

The person was of course Miller Bosque. He thought for only a moment before replying.

"...how long can we last in this stalemate?" Miller prompted reluctantly, more information was needed. The duke had planned some secret tunnels to import food into the capital in case of emergencies, but unsurprisingly, all the food resources that came anywhere near the capital were intercepted long before they could enter any secret tunnel.

Actually, some secret tunnels were exposed by more cunning and patient assassins. The Duke and Miller only knew this because their own hidden forces guarded these shipments. Needless to say, the assailants were very competent.

"I give it another week before the residents realize" The royal kitchen was always supplied with a surplus of food thanks to the kingdom's rich nature. That's what the citizens were now eating into.

Miller was thinking about how to deal with this matter, but he could not reach a conclusion. He was better fit to be a king than the 3rd prince, his nephew, but that didn't mean he was excellent by any bound.

The enemies plan to not retreat and remain camped on the outskirts of the capital had a far more sinister goal than they initially anticipated. No, this plan was not too hard to anticipate. The skill of the assassins simply threw a wrench into their counter measures.

"Where did these assassins come from…" MIller muttered within the throne room. The guards stationed by the duke nor the advisor himself spoke up to answer this question.

They didn't know.

***

Outside the capital, Duke Lansworth and Samuel Oakley were watching the tarnished open space. What used to be a great green grassland was now filled with holes and the pungent smell of rot and ashes.

"Looks like we'll have to end this" The Duke originally intended to force the invaders out by whittling at their forces, but who could have perceived that the Harvest march had such a fearsome and competent group of assassins?

Samuel nodded and prepared himself mentally. The battle that was terminated by his tempest might have been short, but it told a lot about what to expect.

The soldiers were mostly ordinary people. There was no real opponent for him to face out on the battlefield. Was he ready to slaughter people just for standing on the side opposing his own?

That was a battle, the answer was yes.

"""MAY THE BLOOD RIVER STREAM FAVORABLY!!!""" A strange battle cry resounded in the battlefield. A distant line made of soldiers could be seen closing the distance to the Bosque Capital.

But this intimidating cry was not alone, it was followed by another loud chant by the Bosque forces.

"""STAND TALL!!!""" The Bosque kingdom's forces cry was more sophisticated in nature, having less mention of bloodshed, but the soldiers from Duke Lansworth and the royal capital itself were not any less fierce.

The two sides would crash together like waves and create a real stream of blood within a matter of a few minutes. But that had nothing to do with Samuel, he was far stronger than these people after all.

"Sigh… I'm off then" Samuel said with a deep sigh. His eyes then turned solemn and his figure seemed to disappear as he sprinted off into the sky.

Previously the battle was ended due to inclement weather, but this time Samuel planned to…! He suddenly felt something!

"A- Argh!" Samuel exclaimed from both pain and surprise. A dark tentacle had cleanly punctured his leg

"Tsk!" The wind carried with it a mildly infuriated message. An assassin.

But Samuel was surprised to find that he couldn't at all spot the assailant.

"Hehehe, surprised?" Samuel heard a voice say from all directions. His mind was hazy.

"You…" Samuel was quick to realize that the dark magic that touched him earlier was nothing simple.

"Are you even human?" Samuel didn't fail to notice the remnant traces of death from his gaping injury. It was impossible for the other party to be a human… right...?

But the other party did not respond, and Samuel's vision was now turning blurry. His injury which was small thanks to his great reflexes was also bleeding profusely. It didn't seem like the wound would close anytime soon.

"Urgh-!" Samuel' shoulder was then pierced by what appeared to be a dark arrow. The attack pierced the basic defense provided by his flight! Both disoriented and facing a seemingly invisible enemy, Samuel was at a loss.

Finally, Samuel closed his eyes and grit his teeth. He wanted to fly higher! But a jolting pain forced him to pause and remain in a vulnerable altitude.

With no choice, Samuel took in a deep breath and recalled his earlier feeling. That feeling of something was more like a cry. Like something yelled in his ears about danger.

A cloaked figure with eyes glowing an abyssal black suddenly jumped up with full power. He was reaching for Samuel's position up in the sky!

Black tentacles appeared from his back and grabbed towards the floating, dazed Samuel. With a swoosh, the black tentacles seemed to cut through the air.

The assassin, Azrael, narrowed his eyes before whipping out his dagger and just as his jump reached its peak cut rapidly slashed diagonally at Samuel's body.

Blood spurted.

It was no good.

Samuel's figure fell from the air down onto the ground like a comet. The soldiers and even the Duke himself jumped back in surprise. When did this happen!?! Samuel had just run off a short moment ago!

"HAHAAHAHAHA!" The maddened Azrael laughed hysterically as he too fell towards the ground. The main difference was that he landed gracefully and with a wide grin.

Samuel was alive, but he was struggling to get up after the harsh death imbued strike and unforgiving fall.

Most importantly, he failed to grasp the feeling of that something. That ability he vaguely sensed was the key to overcome his blurry vision and hazy mind.

Azrael's eyes and lively expression then turned into a silent frown. Wasn't this a bit disappointing and underwhelming? Was his plan and execution of said plan just too perfect?

Thinking back to his sequence. Yeah, it was.

His first attack which aimed at the leg started numbing his body and eventually his mind. That meant that Samuel was unable to think properly. How did this help? Although Samuel did show the intention of flying higher blindly as a means to maintain his safety, he couldn't execute it.

His mana was running wildly and he was still stuck on the task of maintaining his altitude, flying higher already appeared difficult. There was also a new additional one of fending off the foreign killer mana. In a normal state of mind, Samuel could have easily handled this much.

Praising himself sufficiently, Azrael went in for the kill.

It was at this point that a fierce torrent of water carpeted the area over Samuel and Azrael. The droplets cut sharply like knives, but the moment they hit Samuel's body they were as soft as a feather.

Such a level of skill was nothing to frown upon and Azrael was forced to deflect some of the small droplets from his figure and jump back in retreat.

"Attack!" The duke said after finishing his well-timed spell. The small retreat was an opportunity! Or it would be normally... Although the water deterred the immediate move of Azrael, he couldn't cast it a second time.

He stabbed at Samuel who lay limply on the ground and-!

Missed.

Samuel's head was pushed aside by the wind.

"What?!" Azrael exclaimed in surprise before performing a sweep slash.

A blast of wind then combusted, causing Azrael to fly back and further away from Samuel's figure.

'Assassins are scary' Samuel thought as he looked ahead with fuzzy vision. The invisible attack from the start could have very well taken the life of another person. The poison that rendered those that survived immobile or severely impaired… An assassin was one of the few existences that could eliminate enemies stronger than themselves.

Indeed, Samuel was still the stronger man.

Azrael's face became twisted and the dark glow from before returned with renowned  vigor. Azrael's cloaked body pulsed.

His hand shot forward and out of each finger came dark arrows imbued with deep seethed hatred. They each left a trail of morbid feelings and kited across the air switfly. His pulsing didn't stop however and a constant volley was shot out.

"You- How did you!?!" Azrael exclaimed seeing the arrows he sent disappear without a trace. It was as if they were extinguished by the wind…!

Azrael's figure suddenly contorted.

There was a crushing overbearing pressure that was pressing against his body. With bloodshot eyes, Azrael's death energy suddenly burst out.

An explosion of black occurred on the battlefield, engulfing no one other than Azrael himself.

Samuel's body, which was still lethargic and weak, finally stood up off the ground. He firmly planted his feet on the ground and unsheathed a sword.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Azrael let out a bloodcurdling scream. The explosion then imploded and receded rapidly into his body. There were no traces of it.

Only Azrael's haggard paper white expression told people the energy did not simply dissipate.

Samuel didn't hesitate to perform a stance. He was a swordsman first and foremost. He raised his blade and slashed down brusquely.

A sharp slash seemed to want to split Azrael into two from the legs up. The seemingly crude slash carried with it deadly power.

Azrael's body trembled before his arm flew off its rightful place, his shoulder. Azrael's expression couldn't be hidden by his hooded outfit anymore, and it was anything but pretty.

"AAAAH DAMN IT!!!" Azrael's scream were met with nothing but a barrage of spells.

A tentacle shot off after Azrael's missing stump. It grabbed onto the arm and slingshotted back. Azrael's body then glued it back together by whrithing darkness. The assassin watched as the barrage of spells approached with, excitement...?




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