Kneel

12/19/2025

Chapter 646: Kneel

"Lucid Berserk... This guy is the First Mate..." Anderson trembled, letting out a painful groan...

They finally learned the true identity of the Dark Knight, but no one could bring themselves to feel happy about it.

One of Redbeard's seven great commanders—Grom, the Viking Orc Berserker, First Mate of the USS Dauntless, known as the Crimson Nightmare.

In terms of raw combat power, Grom was undoubtedly the strongest among Redbeard's seven commanders!

Viking Orcs—once legends in Northend, known as the Berserker race. They lived on the Far North Icefield, bordering humanity's northernmost Stone Kingdom.

On that desolate icefield, even the weakest magical beast had the strength of a swordsman. The stronger ones could rival Sword Saints.

But the true rulers of that land were the Viking Orcs. An adult Viking Orc, after a bit of training, could match a Great Swordsman. And their innate talent—Lucid Berserk—could push them a whole tier higher, even beneath a Sword Saint!

Grom was the strongest Berserker among the Viking Orcs. In life, he wielded the power of level thirty-nine; in berserk mode, he could even briefly reach Sky Rank!

Once berserk, his fighting spirit would boil over. Both his battle aura and his body would be greatly enhanced—a top-tier ability every swordsman dreamed of.

Centuries ago, a king of Stoneland Kingdom grew envious of the Viking Orcs' berserkers and tried to subjugate them. He dispatched over ten thousand troops to the Far North Icefield, but as soon as they set foot on that frozen land, they encountered five hundred Viking Orc Berserkers.

Ten thousand against five hundred—such overwhelming odds. No one believed the Viking Orcs could win, but the result left everyone stunned.

All five hundred Viking Orc Berserkers entered Lucid Berserk at once—their signature innate ability.

What followed was a massacre...

Five hundred Viking Orc Berserkers slaughtered an army of ten thousand humans...

Only a little over three thousand survivors staggered back to Stoneland Kingdom. The five hundred Viking Orcs chased them all the way to the capital—no one could stand in their way.

The terrified king of Stoneland spent the night punishing several generals, then sent the Viking Orcs a massive tribute of food and livestock—only then did the five hundred return to the Far North Icefield.

Since then, no force has ever dared to covet the Viking Orcs again.

Even now, in Stoneland Kingdom, the Viking Orcs are a terror that can silence crying children.

And the one before them now—the infamous Crimson Nightmare—was the mightiest of them all!

Just standing there, the storm of battle aura swirling around him made it impossible for any spell to approach within ten meters!

Staring at Grom in the eye of the storm, Anderson was in despair. Reina was in despair. And Hubert, blood-soaked in the distance, was even more hopeless...

Especially now, the aura and pressure radiating from Grom made it clear to everyone—even as a Dark Knight, he had inherited the Viking Orcs' supreme talent: Lucid Berserk!

Once berserk, he shot straight up to level thirty-nine!

Level thirty-nine!

A level thirty-nine Dark Knight!

That was equivalent to a fully-powered ninth-rank Sword Saint—maybe even fiercer, now that emotion was no longer a barrier. His combat instincts were sharper, tireless, relentless...

It's over. We're dead this time.

Only Leon kept a straight face. The moment he felt that surge of power, he channeled all his mana into the Barris icon.

If it had been before the Elemental Chapter merged into the Death Tome, Leon wouldn't have dared risk it. After all, Barris was a true double-edged sword—dangerous to others and to himself.

But now, Leon figured he might finally be ready to try...

"Hold him off for one minute."

"Leave it to me!" Anderson's roar echoed from the black mist. The Arcane Wheel spun wildly, surging with immense magical power. Spell after spell, like a raging flood, crashed down upon the Dark Knight...

At the same time, a clear dragon's cry rang out. Reina, transformed into her Frost Dragon form, dove down—her breath swept across the battlefield in a wave of absolute zero, instantly freezing dozens of meters into a world of ice...

Hubert charged in, his eyes blazing red. Roaring, he leapt with Slaughter in hand—the power of the Golden Three-Headed Dragon's Blood awakened inside him, boosting his strength to the peak. Slaughter crashed down with thunderous force, smashing a chunk of armor off the Dark Knight's back...

Even after taking such a heavy blow, the Dark Knight didn't budge an inch.

With a furious roar, the Dark Knight's deathly battle aura erupted into a blaze of black and crimson flames.

Crack...

The sound of ice shattering rang out—the Dark Knight's death aura exploded, bursting free from the Frost Dragon's freezing breath.

Breaking through the ice, the Dark Knight gripped his greatsword in one hand and casually swung at Hubert.

Hubert raised Slaughter to block, but it was pointless—he and the warhammer were sent flying like a cannonball, screaming as he crashed seventy or eighty meters away, rolling across the ground for dozens more before finally stopping.

Then the Dark Knight swung his greatsword again—dozens of cross-shaped Death Aura Slashes streaked toward Reina. She dodged a few, but was struck, gouged by several horrific wounds, and fell from the sky.

Even the Alchemical Golems could only resort to defensive spells under the relentless assault of Death Aura Slashes.

"Merlin, hurry up—I can't hold on much longer..." Anderson shouted in terror.

Leon didn't move. He merely sent a sliver of mana to trigger the ring on his left hand.

A flash of light flickered from the ring, and finally, Lord Shaun—fully recovered—leapt out.

"Damn it! Merlin, I knew it—don't ever expect me to get a moment's peace!"

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Lord Shaun's shriek echoed, his face twisting in panic as he stared at the berserk, level thirty-nine Dark Knight.

"Awooo!"

A soul roar erupted the moment the Dark Knight broke free of the Frost Dragon's breath.

A single-target soul roar—bringing the strongest effect possible.

Grom had barely escaped the ice when his body went rigid again. The crimson flames burning in his eyes flickered wildly, as if about to go out.

The violent tremor of his soul fire left Grom completely unable to control his own body.

Seizing the moment, Leon raised his Dragonstaff and chanted a rapid incantation. In midair, a massive crimson hand—three meters wide and covered in runes—materialized.

The giant hand slapped the stunned Grom, scattering the raging battle aura around him. The flaming handprint sizzled against his body, and even Grom's mighty frame seemed close to igniting.

Anderson unleashed the Arcane Wheel, bombarding Grom with a barrage of high-level spells, charring his body black.

Reina unleashed dozens of Ice Spears, their sharp whistles slicing through the air—all of them struck Grom...

Yet, despite every powerful attack landing, not even Grom's footsteps faltered.

With a single burst of battle aura, he forcibly repelled all the attacks.

Seeing this, Leon quickly called out to Lord Shaun: "I need more time."

Lord Shaun was on the verge of a breakdown, but seeing Leon drop the line and ignore him, he knew just how dire things were.

"Damn it, I must be cursed with misfortune to have met you. Two Soul Magic Crystals—miss even one and it's over!"

Lord Shaun's face was mournful, and the freshly restored Eye of Misfortune on his forehead snapped open. A thick ray shot from the Eye, striking the Dark Knight. Pushed to the limit, Lord Shaun unleashed a barrage of amplified negative spells upon him.

The Dark Knight's aura plummeted sharply.

The Eye of Misfortune closed again, and Lord Shaun collapsed on the ground like a dead dog, too spent to return to his Relic Spirit vessel. He was utterly hopeless—if Leon couldn't defeat the Dark Knight, he'd be doomed too. On this cursed ghost ship, he wouldn't even get a chance to rest.

Everyone fought desperately to hold the Dark Knight back—at last, they managed to stop him for the moment.

Meanwhile, sweat began to bead on Leon's forehead. He'd never actually summoned the Barris icon before, and he knew he probably couldn't summon it fully now. But even a single hand would be enough to turn the tide.

Yet, no matter how much mana he poured in, there was no response at all.

Who was Barris? In life, he was Sky Rank. Even in death, his corpse alone could become a peak level thirty-nine undead. If not for one trick, he'd already be resurrected as a true Sky Rank powerhouse.

When the Barris icon first appeared, Barris had already reached Sky Rank. He only failed at resurrection—without Sky Rank power, he was still Sky Rank!

A minute passed in a flash. The Dark Knight was like an invincible juggernaut—every move forced everyone to give their all, and that was with his power greatly weakened by the Eye of Misfortune!

Just as cold sweat streamed down Leon's face, the Barris icon finally responded.

Immense necrotic power surged out of the Death Tome, making it tremble violently. Leon gripped it tightly, pouring mana in without regard for the cost.

Dense necrotic power condensed in midair, forming a massive black leaden cloud—over a hundred meters wide. The Sky Rank pressure began to manifest.

The pitch-black cloud writhed furiously, black lightning crackling inside. Slowly, the bolts of lightning converged into Barris's face.

Barris's hollow eyes gazed down, like a god looking upon ants.

A deep, muffled whisper descended from the sky.

"Kneel."

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