Chapter 450: Ironclad Dire Tiger
Including Vis, who joined halfway, the team now numbered eleven. Apart from the Merlin Brothers, the rest were all essentially at Title Archmage level, and that included the Dragonblood Orc, Hubert. Ever since he slept in the illusion realm, Hubert had become a ninth-tier Swordmaster. With his top-tier sentient warhammer, Slaughter, plus the spellcasting power and monstrous strength granted by his dragon bloodline, even some lower-ranked Sword Saints might not be his match.
And this was no exaggeration...
This star-studded team pressed deeper into the mountains, and magical beasts grew more frequent. For several hours, it was Hubert doing most of the clearing.
With Slaughter in hand, Hubert was like a killing machine. In this short period, the number of magical beasts that fell to him had already reached several hundred—most of them above level twenty, and even a fair number of high-level beasts at twenty-eight or twenty-nine. As the battles went on, Hubert became increasingly adept at wielding his strength. In the last fight, he even killed five level twenty-nine magical beasts...
Whenever they encountered magical beasts above level thirty, Leon would send the Merlin Brothers to assist Hubert. William Merlin, Ross Merlin, and Leon Merlin had all grown much stronger. Magical beasts at level twenty-seven or twenty-eight were easily dispatched. Working with Hubert, the four of them could take down a level thirty beast without breaking a sweat. Not long ago, they even spent over half an hour to defeat a level thirty-three magical beast!
Right now, Hubert was facing a Shadow Wolf King—a beast standing three meters tall and ranked level thirty. Judging by strength alone, it was almost as powerful as a Sword Saint.
But even so, after ten minutes of one-on-one combat with Hubert, the Shadow Wolf King hadn't managed to hurt him in the slightest.
"Roar!" With a low growl, Hubert raised Slaughter—his warhammer weighing thousands of pounds—and smashed it down on the Shadow Wolf King. There was a crisp crack of breaking bones, and the beast was sent flying over ten meters. Already covered in wounds, the Shadow Wolf King finally met its end under Hubert's thunderous blow.
Once he confirmed the Shadow Wolf King was dead, Hubert finally let out a breath, shot Leon a resentful look, and then carefully extracted the Soul Mana Crystal from the corpse.
Boom!
But just then, a thunderous roar shook the air. At the same time, everyone felt an overwhelming, terrifying aura—even Leon's face changed dramatically.
It was the aura of a magical beast...
Just from the aura alone, this beast was almost on par with the level thirty-eight magical monster they'd encountered two months ago in Skyline Gorge!
Roar!
With a tiger's roar and a blur of motion, a colossal creature—seven or eight meters tall—appeared before Leon and the others. Its entire body was metallic, shining under the harsh sunlight with a gleaming metal luster. Two silver eyes stared intently at the group.
That gaze was like a predator eyeing its prey.
Level thirty-eight...
Ironclad Dire Tiger!
Everyone's expression turned ashen. In all the hours they'd spent on the eighth floor, magical beasts above level thirty had been rare. They'd thought this layer wasn't so dangerous, but clearly, they were dead wrong. No one expected their luck would be this rotten—running into a level thirty-eight beast...
If it were just a level thirty-seven magical beast, the eleven of them could probably win, though it would be ugly.
But this was a level thirty-eight Ironclad Dire Tiger.
Even in the whole Northend World, the Ironclad Dire Tiger sits at the very top of the magical beast food chain. Its body is entirely metallic, granting it near-total immunity to physical and magical attacks. Every time one appears, it's a disaster beyond words.
Once mature, Ironclad Dire Tigers are typically level thirty-seven or thirty-eight. The true kings among them reach Sky Rank!
There was even a tragedy in Northend's history—back in the magical golden age, a mature Ironclad Dire Tiger emerged from the mountains and attacked nearby villages. With its overwhelming strength, it killed hundreds, even thousands, of humans. No one could stop it.
That Ironclad Dire Tiger prowled the villages and eventually found its way to a city. As night fell, it charged in. Even in the magical golden age, a border town couldn't withstand such a beast. By dawn, the city was littered with corpses—at least several thousand dead...
"Merlin Archmage, what do we do..." Dalson's face was bloodless, his forehead beaded with sweat. In just a few seconds, his back was drenched, his mage robe clinging to his skin. His throat worked as he forced out a shaky whisper.
"Run..." Dean's sword hand was trembling uncontrollably.
"It's already too late..."
Leon frowned, his face pale. The appearance of a level thirty-eight magical beast was beyond anything he'd expected. "Running won't work. It'll only scatter us and make things worse. With a beast this fast, it would hunt us down one by one. Besides, this is the eighth floor of the Wizard's Spire. Where could we even run...?"
"Merlin Archmage is right. We have no choice but to fight..." Councilor Weiss nodded, pale-faced, a wave of helplessness rising in his heart. If he hadn't lost his power, maybe—just maybe—they could stand a chance. But now, he was only a fifth-tier Title Archmage...
Weiss had spent years in the Black Tower and seen his share of crises. He quickly grasped the situation. Almost before he'd finished speaking, he cast Wind Elemental Avatar and vanished. At the same time, a barrage of sonic booms erupted near the Ironclad Dire Tiger, and countless wind spells rained down from above.
(Irrelevant passage skipped.)
At that moment, Leon and Solan Monty moved as well, unleashing a storm of spells like a raging tempest. Magical torrents crashed down on the Ironclad Dire Tiger.
But their spells struck the Ironclad Dire Tiger with a series of metallic clangs—none could break through its defenses.
That was... terrifying.
If they couldn't even breach the Ironclad Dire Tiger's defenses, what hope did they have of winning?
"Roar!" With a furious bellow, the Ironclad Dire Tiger seemed enraged. Lightning-fast, it flashed forward, appearing just two meters from Solan Monty. A metallic claw slashed at his head. In that split second, Solan Monty, nearly scared out of his wits, hastily raised an Elemental Shield—and, realizing it wasn't enough, threw up a Rune Shield as well.
There was a sickening 'squelch.' Before the level thirty-eight Ironclad Dire Tiger, the supposedly strongest defense of a Title Archmage—Elemental Shield—was like paper, vanishing in less than a second. Next was the Rune Shield...
The dim Rune Shield trembled, then silently shattered. The Ironclad Dire Tiger's massive frame—seven or eight meters tall—instantly engulfed Solan Monty.
But at that moment, a terrifying draconic aura surged forth. The Ironclad Dire Tiger was forcefully knocked back dozens of meters, stirring up a storm of sand and gravel...
"What do we do? We’re no match for it. If this keeps up, we’ll all be picked off one by one..." Solan Monty, who had just escaped the tiger’s jaws, was pale as a ghost, panic rising in his heart. If he hadn’t poured all his magic into that draconic breath just now, he would’ve been dead already.
Though the level difference was only three, the gap in actual power was beyond description...
Dazzling spells flew from Lin Yun’s hands, his face grim as he repeated casting gestures. The Wheel of a Thousand Spells spun out, unleashing hundreds, even thousands of low-level spells that surged toward the Ironclad Dire Tiger. The magical array within his body was pushed to its limit, and he calculated precisely—if he used the fragment of the ancient god-demon’s soul, he might just be able to kill the Ironclad Dire Tiger.
But if he did that, even Cousin William and the others might not make it out alive...
"Awoo..."
Just then, a soft, childish wolf howl sounded from his pocket. Before Lin Yun could react, the palm-sized Three-Eyed Shadow Wolf darted out, blurring as it charged toward the Ironclad Dire Tiger...
Lin Yun’s face darkened completely. If not for the dire situation, he’d be cursing up a storm. You little troublemaker, of all times, you have to stir up trouble now!
He was already starting to regret bringing the Three-Eyed Shadow Wolf out of the demi-plane in the first place.
With the magical shackles on, the Three-Eyed Shadow Wolf was barely a level five weakling. The Ironclad Dire Tiger could squash it into paste with a single step.
What a waste...
And then Lin Yun saw it—the Three-Eyed Shadow Wolf was now less than five meters from the Ironclad Dire Tiger. Worse, the little rascal just stood there, letting out those soft, taunting howls at the Ironclad Dire Tiger.
Damn it, that's just asking for death...
Lin Yun broke out in a cold sweat. Even he, if he got that close to the Ironclad Dire Tiger, would be lucky to escape with his life—let alone the fragile little Three-Eyed Shadow Wolf.
Throughout Northend’s history, only six or seven Three-Eyed Shadow Wolves had ever appeared. No one would have guessed one might end up dying under the paw of a magical beast.
Lin Yun was ready to close his eyes...
"Awoo, awoo, awoo..."
But a few seconds later, the Three-Eyed Shadow Wolf, still howling, hadn’t been attacked by the Ironclad Dire Tiger.
No, that wasn’t the most shocking part. Lin Yun and the others stared in disbelief as the once-dominant Ironclad Dire Tiger began to tremble all over at the wolf’s howls. Its silver eyes were filled with fear, and its massive body kept retreating...