Volume 10 Bugs Chapter 30: Total Annihilation
According to the conventions repeated countless times in all myths, legends, fairy tales, stories, and epics throughout the ages, heroes who aspire to save the world will, without exception, eventually encounter a powerful evil leader and experience an arduous battle. The good news is that in all similar legends I know, the protagonist of each story wields the sword of Bug, wears the armor of GM, rides the white horse of plug-in, and squanders the magic of background data - although I am not sure what these things that make my friends who dabble in space drool endlessly are - they have overcome all obstacles and won the final victory without exception.
The bad news is: judging from the current situation, we don’t seem to be the protagonists…
I didn't expect that this final battle to save the world would be so protracted. In at least half an hour, the health of Lady Black Knight Denggot was reduced by less than a quarter. Compared with many leader-level opponents we have encountered before, the life bar of this violent woman with strange strength and wielding a huge hammer is not very long, but what is frightening is that her vitality seems to be unusually strong. No matter how much blood is spilled by us, the life bar is always desperately not reduced.
Our attacks had no effect on Black Knight, but her ferocious double hammers were a nightmare we could not get rid of. The two black giants kept circling in front of us, passing over our fragile bodies from time to time, hammering desperate panic into our hearts. Shield strikes, headbutts, war tramples, vines, slow clouds, holy light protection... We tried every way to restrict Black Knight's actions, hoping to slow down the time it takes for the two huge weapons to fall, and buy a few more seconds of breathing time for our remaining lives.
As we all know, these skills that are used to restrict the opponent often do not have significant attack power, but consume a lot of magic and fighting spirit. In order to ensure that these life-saving skills can be released smoothly at critical moments, we dare not even use too powerful combat skills in the attack, for fear of encountering the embarrassment of insufficient magic power (fighting spirit) at the critical moment. This embarrassing situation, in turn, further restricts our combat power, and the speed at which Black Knight's vitality is reduced has become slower and slower.
This can no longer be considered a battle. The determination to win, the desire for honor, the mission to save the world... all the noble and great beliefs have become so inappropriate at this time. What remains in our hearts is only the last bit of animalistic desperate struggle. Yes, struggle! Squeeze out the last bit of life's strength, lingering on and struggling to survive at this critical moment of life and death.
No one still expected to win this struggle, but no one stopped struggling. This seemed to be an instinct. Death was like a liar with sweet words, deceiving every life, allowing them to always see a glimmer of false hope in despair, making them mistakenly believe that they really still had a glimmer of life. Even if their reason gave up, this instinct still drove them to struggle to the end.
We all thought that this struggle would continue for a while, but we soon discovered that the situation was deteriorating much faster than we thought.
Sir Denggot's hammer had an irresistible force, and every time they struck, the opponent would be forced back a few steps. The attack range of these two huge weapons was so wide that once they swept across, there was no escape, just like the brutal wings of a golden eagle, spreading out and ruthlessly driving her prey. You know, this is neither an endless desert nor a vast grassland. This is the top of a tall and dilapidated tower. Even if this was once a majestic tower, its area is limited after all.
Soon, we found that the space we had to dodge was getting smaller and smaller. Black Knight's double hammers seemed to be consciously forcing us to the corner of the tower where the wall still remained, blocking our escape route. This was simply a humiliation for us. With the support of the irresistible absolute power advantage, she managed to surround the five of us alone.
"I can't retreat anymore, I'm already against the wall..." Finally, the elven druid girl fairy came down to earth and fell face down on the ground, screaming in panic.
"Then just squat in the corner and draw circles to curse him..." While Ding Ding Xiaoge shot out a "Shadow Arrow", he did not forget to ask the druid girl to help him complete some mysterious religious rituals.
"Can I write 'Nocturne in B flat minor was here'?" The dwarf bard seemed to have no awareness of protecting the historical relics of the war.
Ah, seeing that our mission has failed and the world is about to end, it seems that there is no need to protect these ruins.
"Do you think she will give me time to finish writing my name?" Niu Baiwan glanced at the "famous name" that he had mentioned to the sky, and said unhappily.
"Aren't you always talking about your premonition? What's your premonition now?" I raised the shield in my hand with all my strength, took a heavy blow from Black Knight, and then staggered back into the crowd.
"You wouldn't be interested in knowing..." Looking at Niu Baiwan's legs shaking like sieve bran, I think the answer to this question is self-evident.
It must be said that as a "knight among knights" favored by the Supreme God, Niu Baiwan's premonitions have always been very accurate. As soon as he finished speaking, a sledgehammer hit him on the head, hitting his face with blood all over it, and even his tall nose almost shrank into his face. He immediately lost his voice and lay stiffly on the ground.
The second victim was the dwarf bard Nocturne in B-flat minor, who only had close-range attack skills but no close-range defense. He looked at Black Knight's hammer with despair, thinking that he would die on the battlefield. But unexpectedly, this hammer, which was twice as big as his body, passed through his body lightly, and then two strange small words rose from his head lightly and gracefully:
dodge……
The 15% higher dodge chance that the dwarves were born with compared to other races finally showed up.
This great piece of shit luck made Nocturne forget himself. The dwarf bard burst into laughter: "Haha, you didn't hit me..."
"Bang..." Another hammer smashed down. The corpse with its neck tilted and tongue sticking out fully showed us one thing: the 15% good luck that only belonged to the dwarfs did not fall on him again this time.
Two lives that were still alive and kicking just a moment ago died in front of us in less than three minutes. Their bodies were still warm, and their eyes reflected their infinite love for life. They stared at us straight, making it hard not to feel a chill from the bottom of our hearts: the journey of death was so hasty that no one would leave time to pack their bags. The instinctive fear of death in the nature of all living things in the world fell instantly, pressing hard on our hearts, and destroying our will bit by bit. At this moment, I couldn't even tell which one was the real reason for my fear: death itself, or the helpless fear of death in my heart.
Maybe it should be the latter. In my personal experience, death seems to be like the darkness of ignorance that the gods sometimes suddenly bring down. It does not make people feel any pain or suffering. It is just an unconscious end and a complete relief. That's all. But the really scary thing is that you know you will die, and you are completely powerless to resist it, but you can't die immediately, and you have to wait quietly, listen to the footsteps of the god of death step by step behind you, and clearly feel every inch of despair and coldness before death comes.
The space in the corner was too narrow. Our only three remaining lives were squeezed together. My skin could even feel the dampness . When the pale green head of the Orc Warlock Ding Ding Xiao Ge was smashed into a bloody mess, the spurting blood covered the top of our heads. For an instant, the sky seemed to be dyed a bleak blood color.
"Ah..." After all, not everyone can bear the suffocating fear at the last moment, especially when she is still a young and weak elf girl. The druid girl fairy fell face down on the ground and finally collapsed hysterically. She completely gave up all the magic skills to prolong her life, and instantly transformed into a manic black bear, screaming in despair and rushing towards the approaching Black Knight.
If you can't bear the fear of waiting for death, then let death come faster. For those fragile creatures struggling on the edge of death but unable to escape, this may be the only choice they can exercise.
The fear of death brought out the only remaining brutal and cruel gene in the elf girl's blood. I saw a huge black bear sticking out its plump and round buttocks, twisting its neck and closing its eyes. One hand - sorry, it's a claw - was grabbing Black Knight's hair fiercely, and the other claw showed sharp nails and scratched its opponent's face and neck desperately until bloody marks were left - this kind of fighting skill that can directly reflect one's own distinctive achievements on the opponent's face seems to be the innate nature of all women in the world, engraved in their blood. In my opinion, it is much more terrifying than the bear druid's attack skills such as "press", "slap" and "tear".
I believe that the vast majority of men in this world - especially married men - would agree with me - although I don't know exactly why.
The final blow of the Fairy's descent to earth, which was full of life tension and violent aesthetics, actually had the additional effects of a critical hit and a combo, achieving an unprecedented brilliant result - more than two thousand points of Black Jazz's life disappeared under this hair-pulling and face-scratching killer move, and this did not take into account the continuous damage caused by the tearing effect.
Even such a loss was insignificant to Black Sir Dengott. After experiencing the final madness of the elven girl and easily getting rid of her, Black Sir once again pointed the deadly death tools in her hands at me.
I know that everything is over, my insignificant life, this world of millions of lives, the beautiful and magical Farvi continent, and this hatred and war that has lasted for two hundred years. The last ray of hope and the flame of salvation in this world will be extinguished with the passing of my life. Tomorrow - no, maybe it won't take that long, maybe just the next hour, the next minute, the next second, the Black Knight who betrayed humanity for paranoid revenge will spread the finished undead poison to every corner of this world.
Will death become eternal? For us, the original beings who are already fragile, and for those who once ignored the existence of death? Have those warm and loving gods abandoned us? Abandoning this colorful world they created, leaving it to rot in the hands of the destroyer?
People who are about to die should pray, but for me who will become an ugly ghost, does such prayer still have any practical meaning? If my bones are destined to betray my last wishes and become a source of poison that accelerates the destruction of this world, which god can save my soul and let me rest in peace in the eternal kingdom of the dead?
I should still resist, shouldn't I? Call it the last resistance or the desperate struggle, shouldn't I fall face first like a fairy descending to earth, using up my last bit of strength, in vain to bring the enemy a tiny bit of trouble, in order to demonstrate our determination and will as a living being?
However, when the black shadow of the hammer grew larger in my eyes and the smell of rusted metal in the whistling air became stronger, I still retreated.
Remember, I have a pair of boots called "Wind Elf's Footprints", which have a magical effect that allows me to leave the place in an instant?
I didn't face up to the death that was supposed to be mine, but avoided the fatal blow. You might say it was because of cowardice, but I don't think so. In fact, in my desperate ashes, death was no longer something that was unacceptable. If it was unavoidable, then coming a second earlier or later would not mean much to me. This was an unconscious and unconscious action. I just dodged it. This action was so natural, as if all of this was written into the novel, and became black text on a white background. It should have been this way.
If you must draw a conclusion for my behavior, then regard it as the guidance of fate. There seems to be such a power in the dark, making everything that should have happened happen and making the story become a story.
My evasion did not eliminate Blackadder's killing intent, but seemed to make her more eager. This woman seemed to be ready to pour out her hatred for the whole world on me. Without a second's hesitation, she roared and turned over to rush towards me.
The shield on my left arm had reached its limit and shattered into pieces. Its durability was less than 30 points, and its defensive function was only one-third of the original.
The two hammers swept over and hit my ribs. I felt like I was knocked down by a mountain and flew out on my back.
When I landed again, I had reached the edge of the other side of the tower. The walls on this side had collapsed, and most of the places were left with only broken walls less than half a person's height. There were also several uneven gaps between the broken walls, with no cover or obstruction.
There was an uncovered gap behind me. The strong wind from the plateau blew against the armor on my back, making a rustling sound, as if I was trembling because of the impending death.
Another hammer came. This was the last one. I had less than 50 points of life left and was no longer able to withstand such a heavy blow. That was it. My life was over.
I pushed forward with my hands and flipped my whole body out from the gap in the remaining walls of the tower, avoiding this final blow and falling rapidly to the ground.
If it breaks into pieces, the body may not be able to be restored to its original state. I thought.
The wind from the ground rushed into my mouth and nose, squeezing my lungs, as if it couldn't wait for me to land and wanted to tear me into pieces in mid-air. The scenery around me moved rapidly, condensing into large pieces of cold color that I couldn't recognize. I felt like I had entered a vertical passage leading to death, and I didn't know if such a strong impact would be enough to throw my soul into the eighteenth level of hell.
In front of him, an imperceptible halo lit up, and the space seemed to be secretly torn open, revealing an unspeakable darkness. Perhaps, that was death. It was said that every dead person would see the shining gate between the world and the underworld before dying.
It’s just that this gate is not as grand as I imagined.
Everything in front of my eyes suddenly went dark.
Close the door, I've arrived...
