Villain Ch 380. Killerflies
They slipped seamlessly into the crowd, mingling with the other players who were engrossed in their monster-slaying activities. Almost immediately, a friendly voice broke through the virtual airwaves, reaching out to greet them.
"New around here, huh? I don't think I've seen you guys before," a male archer inquired, his tone casual and curious.
Bella took the lead in responding, her voice friendly and warm. "Yep, it's our first time here."
A concerned priestess who was sitting on the altar chimed in, her tone compassionate. "You're not running with a healer? That's a bit risky, you know."
Allen took the reins this time, offering a calm explanation. "Our healer isn't online at the moment, so we're making do for now."
Their presence didn't go unnoticed, and curious players started gravitating toward them like moths to a flame, each bringing their own set of questions.
"Where do you guys usually hunt?" a curious wizard asked, clearly interested in their hunting preferences.
A male healer piped up, "Hey, do you need an extra healer? I'm available."
A female archer, exuding enthusiasm, suggested, "You know, you guys should consider joining our guild! We could use some fresh faces."
While the players' eagerness to engage was surprising, Allen and his group held their own. Their guild, albeit fake, was already established, and the proposition caught them off guard.
With a polite smile, Allen replied, "Thanks for the offer, but we're all set."
The hubbub of conversation around them was a testament to the camaraderie that players shared in this map. The atmosphere was different from the bustling towns and cities; here, united by the thrill of combat and the pursuit of experience points, players engaged in friendly banter and exchange of information.
"Watch out! Incoming mob!" the priestess called out urgently, her gaze locked on the approaching danger from the north. All eyes followed her line of sight, landing on a knight with visibly depleted health charging toward the altar. He was being chased relentlessly by a horde of at least ten Green Ghouls and Grimreapers.
"Brace yourselves, team!" the knight bellowed as he ran, his voice strained but resolute. The urgency in his tone was impossible to ignore.
In response to his warning, the priestess's group sprang into action, their movements fluid and coordinated. Ranged players poised themselves for the perfect shot, ready to unleash their attacks the moment the undead horde crossed into their range.
Without hesitation, the priestess activated her protective barrier, a shimmering dome of light that enveloped the knight. Simultaneously, she summoned her healing magic, a radiant burst of energy that bathed the knight in rejuvenating light.
With the priestess's support, the knight came to a determined halt, the defiant bulwark standing firm against the encroaching tide of monsters. His positioning marked the boundary, the telltale signal that the enemies had ventured within striking distance.
Seizing the opportunity, the ranged fighters let loose their attacks in a brilliantly synchronized display. Fireballs erupted in the air, engulfing the undead in searing flames that sizzled their decaying flesh. Arrows shot forth with deadly precision, finding their marks in the monsters' bodies and piercing through with accuracy.
The clash of elements and weapons filled the air, a symphony of destruction and teamwork. The once-threatening horde of undead now found themselves caught in a deadly crossfire, unable to escape the onslaught of attacks from every direction. In a half of a minute, they could beat the monsters.
'Oh not bad…' Allen thought.
"Hey, I know you! I watched your duel. You're the one who defeated the fake Godlike in Berlt Harbor right?" The priest's voice brimmed with excitement as he spoke from Allen's side. Allen turned his attention towards the enthusiastic priest, his eyebrows raising slightly at the unexpected recognition.
"Uh, yes," Allen responded. He hadn't anticipated that his victory would ripple through the gaming community in this manner.
"Oh wow! How about you join our group? We need another melee fighter," the priest suggested eagerly, his eagerness palpable. Before Allen could respond, his intentions were abruptly interrupted by a female hunter's announcement.
"Guys, get ready! Gon is back!" The urgency in her voice instantly shifted the atmosphere, drawing the attention of the priest's group.
The priest's excitement took a sudden dip as he voiced his newfound concern. "Uh... why did he bring Killerflies?" His shock was evident as he shared the unexpected development with his companions. All eyes turned towards an oncoming figure—an agile assassin racing towards them with a trio of fly undead monsters in hot pursuit.
Killerflies were known to be some of the swiftest and most infuriating foes to encounter within this dungeon. Their aggressive nature and lightning-fast attacks made them a formidable challenge, often leading players to devise strategies to avoid confrontations with them.
However, the scene that unfolded before them was far from ideal. The assassin's panicked plea for assistance resonated through the air, his health bar perilously close to depletion. The urgent need for action was clear.
"Guys, help me!" The assassin's desperation was palpable, his survival hanging by a thread as he raced towards the group for assistance. Without hesitation, the priest and his companions sprang into action.
The priest let out a lengthy sigh, his exasperation evident. "Yeah, we better brace ourselves," he muttered under his breath, a hint of irritation coloring his words. Following the previous priestess's movements, he utilized his healing abilities and protective barrier to keep the assassin at a safe distance from the altar. It was a strategic move to prevent the monsters from encroaching too close and posing a threat to their position.
"Thanks!" The relief in the assassin's voice was tangible as he acknowledged the support, his demeanor transitioning from pure panic to readiness for battle. Positioned a safe distance away, he poised himself to confront the incoming swarm of aggressive undead flies, his weapons at the ready.
Meanwhile, the ranged players in the group initiated their attacks, projectiles and spells launching towards the oncoming threat.
The assassin joined the fray, his movements and attacks executed with a fierce intensity that portrayed him as a battle-hardened warrior. His gaze bore a vicious determination, locked onto the approaching foes with an unyielding focus. However, despite his evident effort, something appeared to be amiss.
Allen and the girls, their observations acute, shared a knowing glance as they witnessed the unfolding scene. The assassin's strikes, delivered with what should have been deadly accuracy, repeatedly missed their targets. The damage indicators that materialized above the monsters displayed the telltale word "MISS," highlighting the failures in the assassin's attempts to land a hit.
Suppressing their laughter became an undeniable challenge as they watched the spectacle. Amusement danced in their eyes, evident in the way their lips twitched with the effort of withholding their amusement. The discrepancy between the assassin's fervent attacks and the consistent misses created a comical dissonance that was simply too entertaining to ignore.
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