Chapter 735: Offense
"Kill them! Lord Koscherci watches from above—annihilate these mortal entities! You shall become the Abyss’s eternal favorites!"
The Frost Shaman raised his scepter high, unleashing a thunderous roar as the cold wind howled even fiercer.
"Pathetic mortals!"
"For Lord Koscherci! For the Abyss!"
The Tanalir Frost Giants bellowed in unison, their deep, rumbling battle cries echoing across the battlefield. Towering nearly ten meters tall, these demon giants swung war hammers, spears, and massive clubs as they advanced in full formation toward the Avernus Allied Forces’ defensive line. Their heavy footsteps shook the earth with every step.
From the Steel Ice Plains, the demons grew even more frenzied. They let loose a cacophony of spine-chilling roars—like a storm-wracked sea crashing against the shore—surging forward toward Avernus’s front lines.
"Stop them! Death Guard Avernus, stand your ground!"
"Whoosh—"
Devils nocked arrows, sending volley after volley of Hellfire-lit arrows screaming into the sky. Enormous fireballs rained from above, exploding with deafening booms upon impact, scattering the demonic horde.
But under the Frost Shaman’s overwhelming power, the arrows were torn apart by gales, veering wildly off course and crashing into the ground. Even the fireballs sputtered and died midair, plummeting lifelessly to the earth.
The Devil officer’s face hardened, his voice tense:
"By no means let them breach the frontline! Hold the line—stop these giants!"
High-ranking Devils knew full well the sheer size and thick hides of the Frost Giants. Their charge would shatter any front line, and if allowed to rampage through, the Hell Legion would suffer catastrophic losses.
"Die, hellspawn!"
With a bellow, a Frost Giant smashed through the Hell Legion’s frontline, swinging its massive war hammer with brutal force. Three Devil soldiers were crushed into red pulp in an instant.
A blood-curdling shriek pierced the air as several Horned Demon warriors dove from above, their Hellsteel forks stabbing straight through the Frost Giant’s skull.
But before they could pull back, another giant roared from afar:
"Damn little bats—I’ll tear your wings off!"
With a powerful leap from a mound, the Frost Giant soared over ten meters into the air, catching one of the Horned Demons by the wings and tearing them violently from the sky. The demon screamed, flailing wildly as the giant pinned it beneath his massive body and slammed it into the ground—crushing it into a smoldering, formless mass of flesh.
Standing atop the corpse, the Frost Giant let out a wild, triumphant roar, pounding his chest in madness. But the Hellfire Ballista had already locked onto him.
"Shriek—!"
A sonic crack split the air as a colossal flaming arrow tore through the sky, piercing the giant’s heart and pinning his massive frame to the ground in a final, death-laden embrace.
The slaughter was brutal—unrelenting. For centuries, these two forces had been bitter enemies, each wielding merciless, extreme tactics with no mercy.
Yet under the relentless onslaught of the Frost Shaman and the Tanalir Frost Giants, Avernus’s defensive line began to show cracks. The towering demons were like massive hammers, hammering again and again against the Devil forces’ stubborn front.
But the Empire’s defensive line told a completely different story.
The Guardian Corps of the Mechanical Divinity met the enemy head-on in the main battlefield. Fierce artillery fire tore up the ground in endless waves. High above, skyborne warships fired beams of elemental energy, blazing across the sky like lightning.
In the midst of rifle fire and artillery barrages, the demons charged like moths to a bonfire—each wave was obliterated, wiped out completely.
The Royal Power and Magic Coin Guild each held their own stretch of the defensive line.
The Royal Authority Guild formed an unbreakable wall of thousands of paladins, each wielding massive shields, keeping the demons at bay.
Meanwhile, over a thousand spellcasters from the Magic Coin Guild stood atop their floating fortress, waving wands with dazzling precision. Spells erupted in torrents—fire, lightning, holy light, stone—flooded down like a relentless tide. Without restraint, the spells exploded upon impact, raining devastation upon any demon daring to approach. Casualties were severe.
"Buzz—!"
A winged wyvern, armored in steel, swooped low across the battlefield under the control of the Crimson-Scaled Conqueror. It dropped a storm of bombs, which burst into roaring flames as they soared skyward, consuming demons in fiery explosions, turning them to ash.
And the solo players? They were even more extreme. They charged straight out of the defensive line, charging headlong into the demonic tide without fear. Fueled by a will to die, they engaged in brutal, close-quarters slaughter.
"Damn it—those guild bastards are pushing us too far!"
"Shit! Even if it costs me my life, I’m taking a piece of meat from their mouths!"
In a way, these solo players truly did charge out with a “will to die.”
Demons loved chaos—no order, no strategy. They relished the tense, spine-tingling rush of melee combat, and they craved the terror-filled screams of their enemies at the moment of death.
But this time, they met players who loved chaos just as much—and far more violently.
"Tata Kai, Tata Kai!"
A player clad in a brown nylon jacket and a deep green cloak grinned wildly, his grip on his longsword trembling slightly. He had waited for this day for far too long.
Last war mission, the Frost Giants had been too rare, too small. But now—finally—he could unleash his full strength.
He pressed the trigger on his blade’s hilt. A cable shot out, anchoring itself onto the Frost Giant’s body. His self-made “three-dimensional mobility device” fired gas, lifting him into the air. He soared above the battlefield, his green cloak flapping wildly behind him.
"Swish—!"
A flash of steel sliced through the air. Blood erupted from the back of the Frost Giant’s neck. The colossal body collapsed with a roar.
The player landed lightly on the corpse, striking a cool, confident pose, a satisfied smile on his face.
"I will… eradicate every giant!"
Another cable shot out. With fluid grace, he launched himself toward another Frost Giant.
Though barely over one meter sixty in height, he looked like a tiny insect next to the towering giants. But years of relentless training had honed his combat arts—especially those tailored to fighting giants. He had become a true nightmare for the Tanalir Frost Giants.
Meanwhile, in another corner of the battlefield, eighteen monks—bodies smeared with golden powder, bare-chested—stood in perfect formation, moving as one. Their fists struck like gales of wind, hammering every demon in their path.
Where they passed, screams of agony, flying meat scraps, and streams of blood painted the air.
Then, a six-armed serpent demon barged into their ranks. With greatsword, iron hammer, and spear in hand, it swung wildly—reducing several monks to bloody pulp in an instant. Their corpses lay scattered, horrifically mangled.
The demon stared down at the survivors with its deep, black serpent eyes, letting out a rasping chuckle.
"Shake. Tremble. Scream. Struggle before me, mortal—watch as your comrades die before your eyes! How does it feel, to witness your kin’s death?"
"Hahahaha… don’t worry. You’ll join them soon enough."
A palpable Abyssal pressure radiated from the demon. Its aura of intimidation was so overwhelming that mortals choked, some even foamed at the mouth, paralyzed with terror—dying not from wounds, but from sheer fear.
Yet the naked-chested monks showed no fear. No sorrow. No pain. They simply stared back, eyes blazing with unwavering resolve.
"Watch your backs, brothers of the division—this fiend is powerful. Do not underestimate it."
"Yes… even the Great Division Brother and Third Division Brother fell to it. Its cruelty is beyond words."
"Only the Abbot can kill such a beast. We must hold it here—bind its time. Do not let it escape!"
The serpent demon frowned in confusion.
They… aren’t afraid?
Where is their grief? Their terror?
Why do I feel nothing? Not even the sweet taste of fear?
Its face darkened. Teeth clenched.
"Arrogant mortals! I will make you know—what you truly face!"
Spittle laced with corrosive venom sprayed from its mouth. Its six arms swung weapons stained with blood, charging toward the monks.
Most of the players were under level ten—no match for a high-tier demon. Under relentless assault, casualties mounted.
"Great Home, hold on!"
"Look! It’s the Abbot!"
One monk suddenly shouted in excitement.
"Abbot! This fiend is terrifying—he’s killed eleven of our brothers in one breath! You must intervene!"
A thunderous roar split the sky.
"Insolent demon! I saw through you the moment I laid eyes on you!"
The serpent demon turned, startled.
From afar, a towering bald-headed monk stepped into view—nearly five meters tall, bare-chested, his muscles like gnarled ancient roots. But the most shocking thing? He had eight arms, each thick and sinewy, carved like stone.
This was none other than the Guild Leader of the Shaolin Temple Guild—the strongest monk player in Ailezegai: Great威 Tianlong.
Even the serpent demon paused, stunned.
Is this… human?
He looked more like a humanoid Abyss fiend.
In that brief moment of hesitation, Great威 Tianlong roared, his aura blazing.
"Fiend! Where do you think you’re going?"
With a burst of dust, the eight-armed giant leaped forward, moving with unstoppable momentum. His massive fist, like a boulder, crashed into the demon’s face.
"Boom!"
The serpent demon spat black blood, flying backward—impaling itself deep into a rock wall.
What kind of strength is this?!
"Sky Dragon Brother is awesome!"
"Whoa, hold on—don’t you remember our Shaolin Temple rules? Say Abbot Majestic!"
"Abbot Majestic!"
"Insolent mortal! You have no idea of the Abyss’s might!"
The demon roared in fury. Dark red flames ignited along its six weapons.
Blades of burning light tore through the air, seeking to rip open everything in their path.
"Trivial tricks. How dare you challenge me?"
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Great威 Tianlong showed no fear. He fired off hundreds of punches, each one unleashing a storm of wind. The flames were shattered midair.
Then, with a powerful kick, he launched himself forward again—his body becoming a blur of motion. Eight fists, each a whirlwind of destruction, slammed into the demon.
The serpent demon could only stare up in shock as countless fists—charged with intense force—rained down like a storm, pummeling its body.
"Boom!"
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Great威 Tianlong’s face was twisted in fury, like an enraged wrathful deity. In just a few breaths, he delivered hundreds of blows. Black blood, fragments of stone, and pulverized debris flew everywhere.
"Abbot Supernatural Power is boundless—vanquishing demons, eradicating evil!"
"No wonder he’s the Abbot!"
The watching monks cheered, awestruck. This was the ideal monk—simple fists, smooth head, pure, overwhelming violence.
But then—a shockwave erupted from the serpent demon, blasting Great威 Tianlong backward like a cannonball. He crashed into the ground, kneeling, his expression grim as he stared into the Abyssal mist in the distance.
"...It’s still alive."
Then—another roar, deafening and spine-chilling, tore through the sky.
"Mortal!"
"You have truly awakened my rage. You will witness… the Abyss’s fury!"
The voice was layered, rasping—like a hundred cobras hissing in unison.
The demon’s body twisted and expanded. Scales split open, revealing dark, spiny protrusions. Black mist swirled around it, pulsing with chaotic energy.
"An evil beast with such power… but even so, you’ll never escape my grasp!"
Great威 Tianlong clenched his fists, voice low and fierce.
"Hmph. Mortal, in the face of Abyssal might, you’ll soon realize how insignificant you truly are."
The demon swung its six arms, hurling spear after spear—dark, mist-wreathed, coated in poison.
"Come on!"
Great威 Tianlong swung a punch—but the spear pierced through the air like a ghost, slicing through his guard, tearing through his skin. Black smoke, like a ravenous beast, began devouring his flesh.
The un-hit spear struck the ground. The earth hissed, bubbling as acid craters formed around it.
"Is this… Abyssal Corrosion? What a vicious technique!"
His expression darkened instantly. He gathered energy into his feet, dodging and weaving through the storm of falling spears.
He lunged forward—determined to end it. But a thick wall of black mist coiled around the demon, forming an impenetrable barrier.
Turbid, filthy rain began to fall from the sky. Wherever it touched flesh, it burned. The Abyssal power seeped into the blood.
In this situation, Great威 Tianlong could only rely on attrition—draining his inner energy, constantly dodging, avoiding every drop.
"Come, mortal. Cry before me."
A mocking laugh echoed from within the mist—chilling, soul-piercing.
The serpent demon wasn’t built for melee. It was born of pride and arrogance, its evil spirit relishing the slow, fear-filled death of its enemies.
But then—
A powerful, clear voice rang out from afar.
"Great威 Tianlong! I’m coming to help you!"
(End of Chapter)
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