Chapter 298: Pale Face
At the command of the young Archmage, more than a dozen warriors of the Dragonbane Mercenary Corps surrounded their target. These were the elite of the corps, each at least a Greatsword Master. Just imagine—when the battle aura of a dozen Greatsword Masters erupts all at once, the momentum is truly terrifying...
Dragonblood Orcs, notorious for their cowardice and fear of death, couldn't withstand such a shock. Before they could even think, the Adamantite Warhammer in their hands was already swinging...
With a thunderous crash, the Adamantite Warhammer slammed into the ground, sending out visible ripples. The warriors of the Dragonbane Mercenary Corps had no time to react before an irresistible shockwave struck every one of them.
In that instant, the mercenaries felt as if they'd been hit by a rampaging Thunderbeast. Not even a scream escaped before they were sent flying en masse...
The Adamantite Warhammer wielded by the Dragonblood Orc was custom-made by Leon.
After the Dragonblood Orc fused with a drop of the Golden Three-Headed Dragon's Blood, his strength had grown to unimaginable levels. Every movement brimmed with power, and when he went all out, his force nearly matched a dragon's full strike. Naturally, ordinary weapons were no longer suitable for him.
Even Leon spent over ten days crafting this Adamantite Warhammer specifically for the Dragonblood Orc.
At first glance, it looked much like any warhammer used by common warriors. But don't forget—the material was pure adamantite, the heaviest of all magical metals. This warhammer weighed at least several hundred pounds, and Leon had also employed alchemical techniques far beyond this era in its creation.
The most astonishing of these was the Infinite Layering Technique.
In theory, the Infinite Layering Technique allows alchemical materials to be stacked endlessly—at least, that's the idea. For example, the Sanctuary Tower that once protected all of Heather City was constructed using this very technique.
Of course, truly endless is impossible...
When the Sanctuary Tower was built, it gathered the strongest alchemists in all of Northend. Yet in the end, they only managed to stack the materials a few hundred times. Otherwise, how could an ordinary tower have delayed Northend's destruction by ten thousand years?
As for Leon...
Right now, tenfold is the most he can manage.
But even tenfold is terrifying. This Adamantite Warhammer may look like any ordinary weapon, but after tenfold layering, it weighs several thousand pounds. In other words, what Hubert is swinging now is a monstrous weapon weighing thousands of pounds.
If that thing landed on someone...
Forget these aggressive Greatsword Masters—even a dragon would probably cough up blood on the spot.
What's more, Leon used advanced techniques on this Adamantite Warhammer. When wielded, its power is so immense that even Leon himself is satisfied.
Leon even said that if Hubert uses this Adamantite Warhammer for a year, it will develop an artifact spirit and become a top-tier Soulbound Relic. With some luck, it might even become an Essence Relic.
To commemorate this, Leon even gave the Adamantite Warhammer a name: Slaughter.
Once Slaughter unleashes its full power, it truly can create a massacre.
At that moment, Hubert slammed Slaughter into the ground, and the shockwave instantly sent a dozen Greatsword Masters flying...
"You... you dare to resist!" The young Archmage was clearly startled by the Dragonblood Orc's strike.
This was no joke...
A dozen Greatsword Masters didn't even have time to react before a shockwave sent them flying. What kind of terrifying power was that?
"Uh..." But at that moment, the Dragonblood Orc had no time for him.
The young Archmage had never seen such terrifying power before, but it was also the Dragonblood Orc's first time wielding Slaughter...
The full force of Slaughter's blow stunned even the Dragonblood Orc.
Originally, the Dragonblood Orc regretted that his attack landed on empty ground, but the shockwave turned out to be unimaginably powerful. Those were a dozen Greatsword Masters! Before meeting Leon, even a single Greatsword Master was enough to give Hubert a hard time. Even the weakest among them, once their battle aura erupted, Hubert knew it would be a tough fight.
As for a Second Rank Greatsword Master...
Hubert didn't even bother to think about it—waiting for death would probably be quicker.
Even now...
After following Merlin, Hubert gained plenty—and even fused a drop of Dragon's Blood in the Apocalypse Plane. Still, he only felt stronger than before.
But just how much stronger...
He couldn't say for sure. In Hubert's mind, he still couldn't beat anyone...
There were two human mages in the Gilded Rose. The younger one was unbeatable, and the older one was no easier. Human mages were so despicable—their spells were nothing but one vicious trap after another. Every time, they dug a pit for him to fall into, and once he did, they'd laugh at his misfortune.
Oh, and that damned talking flame...
Just thinking about that flame made Hubert break out in a cold sweat. If he could, he'd rather never fall into the hands of that damned monster again.
Back then, after fusing with that strange drop of blood, Hubert's strength skyrocketed. He thought he'd finally break free from the human mage's grip and breathe the air of freedom again—only to be clubbed on the head and handed straight over to that twisted flame. Just remembering it made Hubert shiver...
Hubert remembered that the human named Merlin was supposedly at Archmage level.
Isn't an Archmage about the same as a Greatsword Master?
That experience left Hubert stubbornly convinced he was at Fifth Rank Greatsword Master level. Against anyone below fifth rank, he might win two or three fights, but above that, he was probably doomed...
But after following that human mage to an even bigger human city, he ran into a bunch of Greatsword Masters so weak it was almost laughable.
Just look at these guys...
They all charged forward with battle aura blazing—clearly all Greatsword Masters. Some of the tougher ones might even be seventh, eighth, or ninth rank.
And there were more than a dozen of them...
How did they get so weak...?
All Hubert did was slam Slaughter into the ground, and these guys were sent sprawling. Could the gap between Greatsword Masters and Archmages really be this huge?
Or maybe...
Is it just that the weapon in my hand is that powerful?
Thinking that, Hubert couldn't help but touch Slaughter in his hands. It didn’t seem all that special—aside from being heavier and a bit strange, it was just like any other warhammer...
No, I need to test it again.
"You lot, get up." Hubert thought to himself, then raised Slaughter once more.
...A group of Greatsword Masters lying on the ground and playing dead all sucked in a sharp breath at those words.
Damn, why is this beastman such a monster...
He’s already beaten us half to death—why does he want us to get up? Was that last hit not enough for him, does he want us to stand up for another round?
Shit, does he think we’re all idiots?
Only an idiot would get up...
The Greatsword Masters didn’t need to communicate—they all made the same choice at once.
Not getting up. No way, not even if you beat us to death!
And so, a bizarre scene unfolded...
"Get up, get up, hurry up and get up!" Hubert urged desperately.
Not getting up. Not getting up. Not even if you beat us to death...
The Greatsword Masters did their best to play dead.
...Hubert, having just gotten his hands on such a powerful weapon, was itching to test its strength again—like a cat with its heart in knots, desperate to see if that last hit was just a fluke.
But he never expected that all the Greatsword Masters would play dead, refusing to get up no matter what.
Left with no choice, Hubert rolled his eyes and turned to the young Archmage. "How about you give it a try?"
Dragonblood Orcs really are simple-minded...
He never considered the difference between classes. All he knew was one was an Archmage, the other a Greatsword Master. If their ranks matched, their strength probably did too.
With the Greatsword Masters playing dead, the only target left was the pretty-faced young Archmage.
"With a face that pale, you must be a really powerful Archmage..." Hubert had met two human Archmages—Leon and William Merlin—and both were a bit pale, so in his mind, any pale-faced Archmage had to be strong.
...The young Archmage was about to lose his mind.
If it weren’t for the terrifying weapon the Dragonblood Orc was swinging, the young Archmage would’ve already cursed him out. Damn it, what does being pale have to do with being powerful?
Besides...
Is my face pale? It’s only pale because you scared the hell out of me...