Chapter 251 Chapter250-Conflict
No sooner had Duke Dinan's words resonated in the room than this motley crew of oddballs let out a unified roar: "We will not fail your expectations!"
The thunderous proclamation rattled the war room, causing Blue Sea and Adam to jump, almost springing from their seats.
Even John found himself involuntarily reaching to his ear, casting a sidelong glance at the exuberant group.
Just as his gaze drifted over, the hulking berserker NPC sitting beside him snapped his head to meet John's eyes.
"What are you looking at, huh, boy?" The berserker's voice rumbled like distant thunder, filling the war room without even appearing to open his mouth wide.
John gave him a casual once-over, not deigning to respond to this meat-headed oaf.
Unbeknownst to John, the berserker took his silence as a form of provocation.
With a furious slap, he nearly split the long table in two. "You skinny runt, dare to ignore me? Believe it or not, I could grind your bones to dust with one hand!"
John raised an eyebrow, regarding the berserker with a stoic face.
A faint smirk curled at the corners of his lips, imbued with a subtle air of derision.
"Isn't it a bit much to describe a potential teammate in such terms? Do you really think that having a brain full of muscles equates to actual strength?"
John queried in a tone both mellow and magnetic, like a thread of silk gently grazing the earlobe.
The berserker's face momentarily stiffened, clearly taken aback by John's unflappable demeanor.
He quickly recovered, thrusting his head back defiantly and puffing his chest to showcase his massive build.
"Boy, you dare mock me? Say that again if you dare!" The berserker roared, abruptly rising to his feet.
Towering like a monolith, his shadow enveloped half the room, eclipsing the overhead lights, commanding attention in a way that rendered him impossible to ignore.
John lifted his head, locking eyes with the berserker, a look of effortless composure gracing his face.
The room felt a palpable shift; suddenly, it seemed that in John's eyes, the berserker was but a dispensable entity.
"So, you're not willing to let this go... Do muscles make one lose their wits?" John mused aloud, his voice carrying an undercurrent of icy intimidation.
As John spoke, an inexplicable aura flashed from within him.
The room took a collective gasp, their faces turning towards John with looks of sheer bewilderment.
For a brief moment, they felt as if they were under the gaze of an ancient leviathan—chilled to the bone, with cold sweat soaking their undershirts.
The berserker, who had been the instigator, was especially stunned, his previous swagger replaced by hesitation and unease.
He was starting to regret his rashness, yet he couldn't take back his words.
His intellectual shortcomings left him unable to understand why this ostensibly weak opponent had exerted such unprecedented pressure on him.
To others, John's emanating aura was a fleeting phenomenon, quickly dissipating and restoring a sense of equilibrium.
Yet to the berserker, this seemingly frail young man's aura felt increasingly oppressive, even making breathing difficult.
"Ah! You're asking for it!" The berserker roared, surging with energy. Flames spiraled from his chest, rapidly engulfing him.
The moment the energy burst forth, he finally took a relieving breath. The suffocating sensation that had been pressing upon him eased considerably.
Snickering maliciously, the berserker clenched his fists, seemingly ready to smash them into John's head at any second. Indeed, his gaze was already pinpointing where to strike John.
John merely glanced at him and softly chuckled, "Ah, a Fire-attribute berserker. No wonder you're so thoughtless."
That casual comment was the final straw that drove the towering berserker to a state of frenzied irrationality.
He raised his fist, ready to strike.
John, however, subtly raised a finger and gently shook his head. "I'd advise against doing anything foolish. The one who'll regret it will undoubtedly be you."
A flash of anger crossed the berserker's eyes, unwilling to be humiliated by a seemingly weaker youth.
He took a few strides forward, clenched his fist, and channeled his energy, launching his punch directly towards John.
However, just as his fist was about to make contact with John's body, John subtly sidestepped, dodging the attack with the agility of a swallow taking flight.
Then, extending his finger, he lightly touched the berserker's chest.
"Boom!" A powerful shockwave erupted in an instant.
The berserker was hurled backward, crashing through the combat room's wall and landing heavily on the ground, coughing up a mouthful of blood.
John's movement was like a bolt of lightning—swift and decisive, offering the berserker no chance to retaliate.
His expression remained indifferent, as if all had transpired just as he expected.
Duke Dinan slightly furrowed his eyebrows, mysterious glints swirling in his eyes.
Even though the sparring in the combat room had escalated to an all-out brawl, he remained unmoved.
Sitting in his commanding position, he spoke coldly, "Have you had enough? If not, I can clear the room for you."
John retracted his hand and grinned, "That's enough. Show's over."
As for the berserker, now clutching his chest and coughing up blood on the floor, John didn't even spare him a second glance.
Duke Dinan sighed, turning his gaze towards the infuriated berserker. "You really are a fool. I've told you before, this young man repelled a Devil. What made you think you could provoke him?"
"It's no wonder people say your brain is just another muscle."
Surprisingly, the impulsive and reckless berserker did not argue or defend himself against Duke Dinan's reproach.
He simply lowered his head, accepting the chastisement.
John's expression remained unchanged, but a mysterious glint flashed deep within his eyes.
It appeared that Duke Dinan wielded a significant amount of influence here.
As John resumed his seat, the gazes from the surrounding NPCs had changed.
Originally arrogant and dismissive when John and his party arrived, their expressions had now morphed into ones of awe and apprehension.
John wasn't surprised by this transformation.
In this dog-eat-dog world, strength was the only currency that mattered.
Power alone defined one's status.
Among all those present, apart from John, it was Duke Dinan who had the highest rank, making him the most influential figure in the room.
Duke Dinan chuckled softly, casually remarking, "Now that everyone has gathered, let's begin by introducing ourselves. After all, we're going to be comrades fighting side by side; we should at least know each other's names."
No sooner had Duke Dinan's words faded than the handsome young man seated closest to him on his left rose to his feet.
Adorned in a pristine white robe emblazoned with the emblem of the Holy Light Church on the chest, he spoke. "Greetings, everyone. I am Hills, Hills Dylan. Currently, I serve as the commander of the Holy Light Inquisition. My class is a Holy Light Combat Priest, Level 316. I am pleased to join you all as teammates."
A glint flashed in John's eyes as he subtly sized up Hills.
The name implied a certain special relation to Duke Dinan, and their features bore a resemblance.
Indeed, as soon as Hills finished speaking, a man dressed in dark robes beside him chuckled malevolently. "The Prime Minister is indeed generous, sending his only son into such a perilous squad. I must say, it's commendable."
Duke Dinan's expression remained unfazed. "The Devil is a common enemy to all races in the Godslayer Continent. In times of crisis like these, everyone's children are the same."
"The fate of one is tied to the fate of all. Besides, Hills is a man of the Holy Light Church, chosen by the Church itself. I have no say in the matter."
Though Duke Dinan's voice was level, anyone could detect the underlying note of pride.
At this moment, Adam, who had been quietly observing from the side, suddenly stood up, his eyes alight with excitement as he looked at Hills. "Wait a minute! Are you the renowned Morning Star Dylan, the most celebrated young warrior in the Holy Light Church?"
Both John and Blue Sea glanced at Adam's fervor, exchanging perplexed looks.
When did this guy become so infatuated with an NPC? Judging by his expression, he might have rushed over for an autograph and a selfie if the situation permitted.
Adam whispered, "You don't understand. Lord Dylan is a true legend within the Holy Light Church. Serving in the Inquisition, specifically dealing with heretics, he's been undefeated through hundreds of battles. Barely into his twenties, he's already the primary heir to the next papal seat!"
Blue Sea muttered disdainfully, "So what? He's still just lines of code, not a real person in the physical world."
Adam: "…"
"Ahem," John cleared his throat, cutting short Blue Sea and Adam's discussion.
Their voices were low, but the elite warriors in the room would not miss a word.
Thankfully, they didn't grasp the true meaning behind the conversation; otherwise, tempers might have flared on the spot.
The source of this c𝐨ntent is fre𝒆w(e)bn(o)vel