“Holy crap?! Why are the trolls retreating? I haven't had enough yet.”
On the city walls, the players watched the retreating enemy with lingering excitement, feeling like they hadn't had their fill.
Just moments ago, those trolls had charged right up to the base of the wall, but to everyone's surprise, they had retreated so quickly.
Meanwhile, at the temporary troll camp.
Savagebone's expression was incredibly grim. Less than half of the one thousand trolls he had led into battle remained, and the kobolds had suffered even more devastating casualties.
This had been a mere probing attack, yet the losses were already so severe.
But what concerned him most was not the casualty count, but another issue entirely—there were too many people in the city.
Judging by the sheer volume of skills and arrows that had rained down from the walls, there were at least one to two thousand spellcasting Class Holders alone.
And that wasn't even counting the melee classes and non-combatants.
In the human world, the ratio of Mages was typically only one in every hundred or thousand people.
Yet the number of people slinging spells on the wall just now... had clearly far exceeded that ratio.
“Could that city be filled entirely with elites?” Savagebone muttered under his breath, feeling more and more uneasy the more he thought about it.
Furthermore, there were high-ranking Class Holders in the city. He had personally witnessed the divine spell barrier cast by the Shamans in the rear get shattered by a pillar of golden light. A divine spell of that caliber could only be cast by a high-ranking clergy member.
His decision to retreat immediately now seemed highly sensible.
Dogtooth walked behind him, his expression rather dark.
His gaze occasionally swept over the backs of the trolls ahead, a hint of undisguised resentment lingering in the depths of his eyes.
He strongly suspected that Savagebone had done this on purpose! Knowing full well that the kobolds were few in number and poorly equipped, the troll had still positioned them at the very front as cannon fodder.
Now, of the seven hundred, only two to three hundred remained.
He felt the artifact inside his robes—the one the old Shaman had given him—hesitating over whether to use it now.
But after a moment's thought, he withdrew his hand.
The trolls surely had their own trump cards; he had to save this final ace for the end.
Meanwhile, in the troll camp, a towering altar had been erected.
The altar was constructed entirely from massive stone blocks, its surface carved with intricate, ancient patterns.
A heavy, primal aura of wild savagery radiated from the altar, making anyone who drew near feel an instinctive urge to bow their heads.
Over a dozen troll Shamans formed a neat queue, slowly circling the altar under Kasal's lead.
With their hands pressed together, they chanted low, ancient prayers. The sound was faint at first, but it gradually swelled into a roaring torrent that echoed across the camp.
Kasal walked at the very front. His steps were slow and solemn, each one seemingly aligned with an invisible rhythm.
When he reached the very front of the altar, he came to a halt.
Raising his hands, his voice suddenly became resonant and solemn:
“Father God Orur! Lord of the Wilds! Source of Riot! Ruler of Trolls!”
“You govern the chaotic world, rule over the wild expanses, and awe all lands under heaven!”
His voice vibrated through the air, each word seeming to carry a visible weight.
At his words, the surrounding trolls knelt one by one, pressing their foreheads to the ground with fanatical expressions.
“Your believers devoutly prostrate themselves, praying for your divine grace to descend!”
“Grant us the supreme power to overthrow the enemy city and crusade against the fake god!”
The moment his final word fell, the patterns on the altar suddenly lit up!
In the next instant, a blinding dark-golden light erupted from the altar, shooting straight into the sky!
In the distance, on the walls of Castellan, the players—who had been complaining about boredom and slacking off—were instantly drawn to the anomaly in the sky.
“Holy crap?! Why did it suddenly get so cloudy?”
The players all looked up in unison.
The once-clear sky was being covered by dense dark clouds at a visible rate, and the daylight rapidly faded.
Then, a fierce wind rose, howling across the walls and making the players' robes flutter wildly.
A heavy sense of oppression filled the air, and everyone could clearly feel an energy fluctuation rapidly growing in strength.
Schutard's face changed dramatically, his hand holding his staff suddenly freezing:
“Oh no! It's a divine descent summoning ritual! They are summoning a divine envoy! And... the ritual has succeeded!”
During the Angel Era a thousand years ago, the Church of Light had frequently used summoning rituals to call upon angels to purge heretics, so he was all too familiar with this scene.
Hearing this, the players were stunned for a moment before instantly bursting into a frenzy:
“A divine envoy?! What rank is that? A boss?!”
“Damn, is the final boss appearing this early?”
“It has to be at least a Demigod, right? Otherwise, how could it justify this grand entrance!”
Some in the crowd were excited, some were curious, and some even opened the game system on the spot to start recording.
As the players discussed animatedly, a giant golden magic circle, dozens of meters in diameter, slowly unfolded above the troll army.
Low, vast, and grand ancient battle songs echoed through heaven and earth out of nowhere, sounding like tens of thousands of war souls roaring on a battlefield.
At the center of the magic circle, the golden light surged!
A massive golden figure, nearly twenty meters tall, trod upon divine radiance as it slowly descended into the mortal realm.
Its body was as towering as a mountain, clad in gilded divine armor that flowed with wild divine light. It held a giant battleaxe crackling with chaotic lightning, and every inch of its body overflowed with a terrifying power that could crush all things.
It was wild, ancient, majestic, and domineering!
One of the nine Demigods under Orur, the God of Riot and Barbarism—Zaror!
“Demigod Zaror descends in accordance with Father God's oracle! To wage war against the fake god of this world and sweep away the heretics!”
The grand, majestic voice echoed across heaven and earth, causing the ground to tremble slightly.
Below, the troll camp instantly fell into a state of absolute, frenzied celebration!
Kasal prostrated himself completely, his expression mad: “Praise the wilds! Praise the riot!”
Savagebone trembled all over with excitement, kneeling frantically: “We welcome the descent of the Lord Divine Envoy!”
Countless trolls raised their arms and cheered, their voices shaking the sky: “Father God is eternal! The divine envoy is invincible!”
In stark contrast was the kobold squad.
The remaining two to three hundred kobolds were currently shivering in terror, their hearts filled with dread.
The pressure of a Demigod was far too terrifying; their instincts as a weak race made them unable to stop trembling.
Dogtooth's legs were shaking as well. It took him quite a while to remember that "this is an ally" before he could barely steady himself.
On the city walls, the players were completely dumbfounded, which quickly gave way to extreme excitement:
“Holy moly! A giant boss!”
“Is he really twenty meters tall? The 3D model is way too cool!”
“We just fought a wave of mobs to warm up, and now we're going straight to the ultimate boss? This main quest is too thrilling!”
“I'm fired up! Even if I die a hundred times today, I'm going to take a bite out of his health bar!”
Lilith stood on the wall, her delicate brow furrowed in worry. “A Demigod-level powerhouse... I fear only Mother Goddess herself can contend with him.”
Hearing this, the players didn't panic at all. Instead, they all relaxed instantly and even began to watch the show as bystanders:
“Oh! I get it! A scripted boss fight!”
“No wonder the difficulty is so absurdly high. It turns out we're just waiting for the Goddess to carry us!”
“Camping for the Goddess's appearance! We finally get to see the Goddess fight again!”
...
Troll camp.
Kasal took a step forward and bowed respectfully to the golden figure, his voice carrying an irrepressible excitement:
“Your believer Kasal welcomes the descent of the divine envoy! Please take action, Lord Divine Envoy, to eliminate the believers of the fake god in the city!”
Savagebone followed closely behind, his rugged face filled with wild joy. “Your believer Savagebone pays respects to the Lord Divine Envoy! The believers of the fake god are right inside the city! Please take action—”
The golden giant, Zaror, looked down upon the mortals. His eyes glowed with deep divine light, and he did not immediately agree to attack the city.
First, he turned his head, his indifferent gaze sweeping over the shivering remnants of the kobold squad, his brow furrowing slightly.
After sensing for a moment and finding nothing, an imperceptible trace of disappointment flashed in the depths of his eyes.
Only then did he slowly speak, his voice vast and majestic:
“I have come in accordance with His Crownness Father God's oracle. I will assist you—but my ultimate purpose in coming here is to eliminate the fake god.”
“Once I take action, the other party will inevitably appear. At that time—you will need to eliminate their believers and weaken the source of their divine power.”
The wild joy on Savagebone's face instantly froze.
So... the Lord Divine Envoy wasn't going to handle the siege?
We still have to attack the city ourselves?
It seemed... they would have to build more siege weapons.
He felt a bit disappointed in his heart, but he dared not show it. He hurriedly bowed his head and respectfully replied:
“Yes! Lord Divine Envoy!”
Rate on N.U.
