Volume 9: Follower Chapter 7: The Eighteen Bronze Men Formation
Since he hooked up with the cheap boss Foxiao, the miserable life of the bearded priest I am your father has changed fundamentally. When the money is not enough, the boss will easily give a "huge sum" of three or five gold coins; when the task is difficult, the boss is invincible with his left and right swords, and has been chopping the leader monsters of more than 30 levels to the point of hanging by a thread before symbolically letting him "personally" kill them; when the equipment is outdated, the boss will casually throw out two pieces of equipment from his backpack, which are "super-high-quality" that he dare not even think about in normal times - of course, for us who are close to level 50, these are all inferior goods that are troublesome, not worth selling, and a pity to throw away - all of this makes I, your father, sincerely feel fortunate: the boss is chosen well, and he can travel all over the world; the boss is followed, and he gets new equipment every day!
However, it is very rare to find a space traveler as dumb as I am your father. Whether it is the use of skills or the way to complete tasks, these most basic adventure knowledge have to be taught by Buddha Xiao more than ten times before he can understand them a little bit, which makes our human swordsman crazy and often curses: "How old are you this year? Have you graduated from elementary school? Why are you so dumb?"
But even though he scolded her, after that, Foxiao still tried his best to teach this stupid rookie.
I was very curious why Foxiao would try so hard to support this good-for-nothing bootlicker. He smiled cunningly and replied, "The last time I heard him mention it, I happened to live in the same city as him. These shabby equipment are worth less than 10 or 20 gold coins even if they are sold. But if I give them to this rookie, hehe... slurp..." The white-clothed swordsman rubbed his hands proudly and couldn't help but spit a big mouthful of saliva, "...He promised to treat me to a big meal of Australian dragons at a five-star hotel after I change my job."
Although I still cannot fully comprehend the profound meaning of Buddha's joke, but at least I know one thing very clearly: Buddha's joke successfully took advantage of the ignorant priest with these "discontinued" novice equipment, and the deceived guy had to thank him profusely.
In this way, under the protection of Buddha's smile, I, your father, only took less than ten days to "jump" from level 31 to level 35, successfully crossing the threshold of job change - you know, for ordinary people like us with normal IQ, such a leveling speed is nothing to brag about, but for the human priest who took two weeks to level up from level 30 to level 31, such a leveling speed can be described as a "miracle". It's no wonder that he was very grateful to the boss Buddha who always took care of him.
Generally speaking, the Devout is the first choice for most priests when changing their jobs. As an advanced profession of priests, the Devout will be warmly welcomed in any adventure team. They can help teammates recover vitality faster than priests and use a variety of magic skills to improve their various attributes. If you die in the adventure, they can also save your life in time, saving you the embarrassment of "running corpses" for a long distance. Although the magic attack power is much inferior to that of mages and warlocks of the same level, the Devout's auxiliary force for the entire adventure team can completely make up for the lack of attack power - even when facing those dead and resurrected undead monsters, the Devout's sacred magic can produce a huge bonus and achieve better attack effects.
However, the fire of faith in the heart of I Am Your Father does not seem to be satisfied with burning silently in the soul, but hopes to express his admiration and respect for the gods in a more blazing and enthusiastic way. Therefore, he did not choose the pious believer as his career change, but chose a more difficult and harsh path of faith, becoming a religious warrior who guards the dignity of the throne with his own body - a monk.
Although rare, there are indeed some people among the many believers of the Supreme God Darmos who have an incomprehensible and extreme understanding of the Supreme God's teachings, believing that belief in God means self-mutilation and self-abuse - of course, they would not use this word, they just call it "trial."
This kind of "trial" included many unwritten and strange rituals, such as: sitting under a huge waterfall for several days in a row to endure the powerful impact of the water flow, running wildly under the sun until suffering from heat stroke and shock, banging one's head against the wall five hundred times continuously every day, inserting fingers into burning hot iron sand, etc., etc. In any case, these stupid trials did produce many of the phenomena they hoped to see, one of which was: those who passed the trial were all strong men with physiques far superior to ordinary people.
As for the great changes in their physique, these unclear-minded fanatics attributed it to the fact that their "trials" were recognized by the Supreme God, who gave them the gift of divine power. In fact, anyone with a little bit of common sense can see how illogical this idea is: no matter who it is, if he can still survive after undergoing this series of incredible suicidal "trials", then his physique must be much stronger than others - and those guys who are not strong enough would have died halfway through the "trial".
In any case, the number of suicide survivors who were tortured by religious extremism increased, and gradually a new sect was derived, and the followers of this sect were called "warrior monks". Due to their paranoia about faith, the warrior monks insisted that the protection of the Supreme God was the best protection they could get, so they refused to wear any metal armor; at the same time, they also firmly believed that the "holy and righteous iron fist" given to them by the Supreme God was invincible, so they were only willing to fight the enemy with their fists, and strongly rejected all weapons except special equipment such as "boxing gloves".
The strong body structure created by long-term inhuman training, coupled with the sacred magic power gained from devout faith, has indeed enabled the monks to create many combat skills that belong only to them, mainly some auras with different uses. These auras are not limited by magic power and time. Once activated, they will always wrap around the monks' bodies and play various defensive effects.
I know an aura skill that can well illustrate the spiritual and psychological state of the monks. It is called "Holy Light Reflection". When this holy aura surrounds the monks, it can absorb a certain percentage of close physical damage, and will reflect the absorbed damage value multiple times to the enemy who casts the attack. You can fully imagine how strong a masochistic combat skill this is: in order to cause greater damage to the enemy, those psychologically twisted monks are eager to bear more attacks from the opponent. While being devastated, they are also enjoying the perverted pleasure of using their bodies to retaliate against the enemy. They use this method to faithfully practice the divine precepts of the Supreme God: "If someone hits you on the left cheek, you should hold out your right cheek for him to hit you next." This kind of suicide attack is an inhumane terrorist act for anyone.
Generally speaking, the so-called "warrior monks" are a group of religious fanatics with extremely developed limbs who like to dwell on trivial matters. They are obsessed with believing that they are protected by the gods - but in the eyes of normal people like us, they are more like being fooled by the gods.
Considering that I am your father who once slaughtered tens of thousands of primary beasts such as wild boars, wolves and dogs with only primary attack magic without mental collapse, and even tenaciously leveled up to level 30, I think the profession of "monk" is absolutely suitable for him.
The monk's job change task is not as difficult as we imagined. Foxiao and I escorted the prospective monk to a place called "Shaoshi Mountain Cathedral". It used to be a holy place for monks to practice and test, but now it is occupied by a group of red-eyed trolls from the withered land.
We fought our way in and found a long and narrow secret room in the backyard of the Shaoshi Mountain Cathedral. As soon as I stepped into the secret room, eighteen metal magic puppets with a shining brass luster surrounded him with their fists. According to the task prompt, I must break through the dangerous magic circle of eighteen bronze men alone, rush to the other end of the secret room, and use a red-hot copper pillar to leave a magic mark on the inside of my arm, so that I can be considered to have passed the monk's trial.
These brass figures probably have some unique magic identification ability, and they all aimed at I Am Your Dad who was taking the trial, and ignored me and Buddha. We originally wanted to join the battle and help our poor would-be monks pass the test, but this strange secret room was probably specially prepared for monks taking the trial. The magic restrictions in it prevented us outsiders from getting close to the battle group, and we could only watch I Am Your Dad fall into a bitter battle.
There is a noble sentiment called "compassion" in this world. When you have this feeling, you will feel sorry for the weak when they are abused and show them mercy. My heart is now filled with this strong feeling. I even feel that in this moment, I have poured out all the compassion I have accumulated in this life.
Unfortunately, you obviously can't expect these 18 copper puppets to understand the profound meaning of "pity" - they are very good at creating objects of pity. Although these puppets don't hold any weapons in their hands, their heavy metal fists are powerful weapons in themselves. When these fists hit I am your father's face heavily, a series of crisp sounds like popping beans are emitted, which makes people feel .
When thirty-six thick metal cylinders rush to pound your face like pile drivers, slapping your nose almost as flat as your lips, do you feel that you are the most unlucky person in the world? You can be comforted by the fact that, as far as I know, there is at least one more unlucky person than you, and that is I am your father who is struggling in the job transfer task.
When being beaten by the eighteen bronze puppets, the believer of the Supreme God tried to fight back, but he soon found in despair that these extremely unkind bronze puppets were completely immune to his sacred magic, and did not cause even a symbolic one or two points of damage. Without the protection of sacred magic, this believer of the Supreme God was not much better than a bearded human target. From what I observed, the only difference between the two was that he would burst into a tragic wail when he was beaten.
Under the violent fists of the Eighteen Bronze Men, I, your father, was beaten to pieces, blood splattered everywhere. The restricted scenes appeared again and again, strongly stimulating the bottom line of my and Foxiao's sympathy. I just felt the blood boiling, muscles tensed, and my heart was sad. The tragic scene of my comrade-in-arms fighting unyieldingly for his faith made me respect and hurt. I really couldn't bear to watch him endure such atrocities.
So… uh… we all turned away.
"How much experience do you need to reach level 50?" Buddha asked me with a smile.
“Ahh…” I’m your father screaming, but we ignored it.
"About one third left, almost there." I checked my status and replied.
“Ahh…” I’m your father’s unyielding scream, but we continue to ignore it.
"I can capture a mount when I reach level 50..." Buddha smiled with infinite anticipation.
"Oh..." I'm your father. He screamed in different ways, but we still ignored him.
"It's not that easy to catch a mount. There are quite a few people at level 50 now, but I've only seen two or three with mounts." I reminded him.
"Oh my god..." I'm your father and this cry was particularly miserable. I almost couldn't help but want to look back with concern, but after hesitating for a moment, I hardened my heart and continued to ignore it.
"This kind of thing..." Buddha smiled calmly, "...it depends on one's character..."
"..." Hey, I'm your father's scream unexpectedly did not come as expected, but made me feel a little uncomfortable. I turned my head curiously and found that his stiff body was lying on the ground. The eighteen bronze men stood aimlessly beside him, just waiting for him to revive and continue the atrocities just now.
"He's so slow, why hasn't he finished yet..." Fo Xiao pointed behind him with his thumb and curled his lips with slight dissatisfaction.
"It doesn't matter. There's nothing urgent anyway." I stretched.
"Yeah, let's sit down and chat for a while." Fu Xiao was probably tired of standing, so he sat down next to me.
"Okay, what shall we talk about?" I also sat down.
"Oh..." The screams that rang out again indicated to me that your father had been resurrected again on the spot. I didn't know whether I should congratulate him or pray for him at this time.
Foxiao looked back, roughly calculated the speed at which I, your father, was advancing on this road, and then smiled helplessly:
"Let's talk about life and ideals..."
…
Although the magic puppets' merciless punches were terrible, they could not stop your father's pious heart from serving the Supreme God. Under this harsh and dangerous test, your father was indomitable, unyielding, unyielding, and unyielding. He used the legendary "corpse dragging" method that was indestructible, invincible, invincible, and hopeless, and finally successfully broke out of the group of deadly bronze men and climbed to the other end of the secret room.
When he stood in front of the hot copper pillar, the magic in the secret room was automatically lifted, and Foxiao and I found that we could also walk into the middle of the secret room.
All the bronze puppets stopped attacking and slowly walked towards the places where they were originally placed. When we passed by a bronze puppet, I suddenly found that there was a hole on its chest that was as thick as two fingers. I was slightly moved and curiously stretched out my finger to poke the hole...
The puppet suddenly stood still, motionless.
"Hey, kid..." I pointed at the puppet and excitedly shouted to the puppet who had just successfully changed his job, "I am your father...it seems that if you poke this hole, they can't attack you anymore."
I am your father. Looking at the tattered equipment on his body with a miserable face, he wailed to me in agony: "Brother, why didn't you tell me earlier..."
