Chapter 316: Damage Sponge

Mark studied the colossal monster that had just materialized, and for some reason, that slimy, eye-covered creature struck him as oddly familiar.

He couldn’t place it right away.

But its mere presence stirred up an old question that had been nagging at him for a while now.

How many more subordinates did Mary have at her disposal?

Between Rudolf, Angelica, Focalors, and now this summon, the Demon Lord seemed to command a whole roster of incredibly powerful pieces.

And for some reason, Mark had the feeling he’d only glimpsed a small fraction of her full power.

But then he remembered an important detail.

That time, when Mary had shown him her system screen, Mark had gotten a glimpse of her class.

Monster Summoner, level 99.

And if the rules of this world worked the same as they did in Eternal Conquest Online, as everything so far seemed to suggest, then a Summoner of that level would have access to a roster of summonable creatures numbering around a hundred different ones.

An entire legion of monsters entirely at her disposal, ready to be deployed with a single thought.

The number was, at the very least, terrifying.

But as he studied the beast more closely, focusing on the shape of its shifting body, Mark finally realized why it looked so familiar.

He’d already fought this thing before.

Back in his early days playing Eternal Conquest Online, when he’d been nothing more than a clueless rookie, he’d run into this exact monster.

And he’d been crushed.

Mark could still remember the frustration of that day as if it were yesterday.

He’d thrown himself at the creature with everything he had, hammering away at it over and over, barely making a dent, until the summoner finally killed him.

It wasn’t until much later that he understood his mistake.

That monster wasn’t a real threat.

It was more of a distraction.

A simple damage sponge designed to waste inexperienced players’ time and resources while the summoner circled around them.

Suddenly, all the pieces started falling into place.

This couldn’t be a mere coincidence.

Out of every summon at Mary’s disposal, she’d chosen to send precisely Nihilux.

One with a personal history with him, one that had made him bite the dust back when he was just starting out.

"Always one step ahead, aren’t you?" Mark murmured under his breath, with a mix of irritation and grudging respect. "Even down to a silly detail like this... you never leave anything to chance."

He shook his head and set those thoughts aside.

He wasn’t going to fall into Mary’s mind games; they had a job to do, and he needed to focus on it.

Then he turned to Bayle, who waited beside him in his full, imposing dragon form.

"Bayle," Mark said, his voice firm. "That thing’s all yours. Take care of it."

"As you command, my lord," the dragon replied, bowing his head.

"And one more thing," Mark added. "Don’t hold back. From the first second, hit it with everything, give it no room to breathe."

He flashed a confident smile.

"Trust me. That thing’s nothing more than a damage sponge with delusions of grandeur. It can take a beating, but it doesn’t hit anywhere near as hard as it looks."

Bayle’s eyes gleamed with fierce anticipation.

"With the greatest pleasure, my lord," Bayle replied immediately. "That creature will be exterminated. I won’t leave anything standing that could ever rise against you again."

"That’s the spirit."

Alice, who had been listening, stepped forward and cracked her knuckles.

"In that case, I’m calling Focalors," she said with a fierce grin. "I’m dying to punch that smugness right off his face."

"All yours," Mark conceded. "Just remember to make it as flashy as possible."

"Got it."

Without wasting any more time, the battle began.

Bayle was the first to move. With a roar that echoed across the entire plain, he charged at Nihilux at full speed, his massive body surging forward with unexpected quickness.

Before the slimy mass could even react, the dragon slammed into it head-on, carrying the full weight of his body, and hauled it through the air before smashing it into the base of the mountain.

The whole ground shook.

A cloud of dust and rock erupted in every direction, and the crash reverberated across the entire plain.

The dwarves, watching the scene from their position, felt the tremor beneath their feet, and panic began spreading among them.

"This is insane!" one of the warriors shouted. "We should use the chaos to make a run for it while we can! Let’s move now, while they’re all distracted fighting!"

"Agreed!" another one yelled. "Let’s get out of here while we still can!"

"I don’t want to die!"

Several dwarves started moving, gripped by fear, ready to bolt.

But Ragna’s voice stopped them cold.

"STAND STILL!" the warlord bellowed. "Nobody takes another step!"

The dwarves turned toward him, confused.

"But, Warlord Ragna—"

"Use your heads, you bunch of drunks," Ragna said, his voice low and controlled, his eyes never leaving the battle. "Where do you think you’re going to run? There’s still a whole army of half-humans waiting out there."

"But—"

"The second we step out into the open and they see us running, they’ll come down on us like wolves, and this time there won’t be a dragon falling out of the sky to save us."

He tightened his grip on the handle of his hammer.

"Our only hope, as absurd as it sounds, is for that man, that so-called Emperor of Death, to defeat the demon..."

The dwarves fell silent, letting the harsh logic of his words sink in.

And quickly, all of them arrived at the same conclusion.

Ragna was right.

However terrifying all of this was, however insignificant they felt in the face of such a display of power, their fate was no longer in their own hands.

Now it rested entirely on a stranger, and on what would undoubtedly be the most colossal battle they’d ever witnessed.

"So stay right where you are," Ragna concluded, his eyes locked on the figure of the Emperor of Death. "And pray to our ancestors that man is as strong as he looks..."