NOVEL NEXT Chapter 112: Mist Camouflage Spirit, Cannot Use Hand of Avarice!
Fwish! Slash!
The second time the boss appeared behind Stark, he reacted instantly.
He sidestepped the attack, spinning around to finally get a good look at what he was dealing with.
---
[Mist Camouflage Spirit (Level 41)]
[Rank: Legendary (Special Boss)]
[HP: 2,500,000]
---
It was floating slightly above the ground, its body translucent and its shape constantly shifting with the mist.
The only clear thing was the scythe in its hand, a long, curved weapon that gleamed faintly even in the fog.
Every strike from that scythe carried bleeding.
Combine that with its ability to vanish into the mist, and it became one of the worst types of enemies to deal with, a silent killer.
Stark, however, decided to deal with the other monsters first.
The boss was strong, but the rest could become a problem if left alive.
Roooarr!
The [Mist Wolves] growled as they lunged forward, their silver forms streaking through the fog.
But before they could even reach him—
Blazing Meteor!
A ball of fire shot out of the mist, crashing straight into the path of the three wolves.
Boom!
-882,240! -882,240! -882,240!
Three massive numbers appeared in a flash of light.
"Damn."
Even monsters that would take a whole team to kill were erased instantly.
The [Demon Horns (Mythical)] were working better than expected.
His spirit boost was insane, his power felt doubled.
The [Mist Reapers] hovering nearby froze for a second, their cloaks swaying in hesitation.
But they didn't stay still for long.
Swoosh!
They rushed forward in perfect sync, scythes raised.
At that moment, the boss reappeared beside Stark, swinging again.
Smash!
The scythe slammed into his [Unbreakable Magic Barrier], the shockwave pushing mist outward.
Stark didn't flinch.
Torrent of Lightning!
He lifted his staff, arcs of lightning swirling and snapping around him.
Three bolts fired off for each [Mist Reaper].
Zap!
-661,680! -661,680! -661,680!
"Nice."
It wasn't as powerful as [Blazing Meteor] in a single hit, but the triple strike damage was brutal.
In total, it was nearly two million per target.
It reminded Stark just how important items were in [Eternal Soul].
Levels mattered, sure, but equipment still gave the biggest attribute boosts at this stage.
Later, bloodlines would change that.
But since no one beside Stark had any idea how to get them, it wasn't doable.
Still... Stark knew that to grow stronger, he needed spirit.
And that is precisely why he sought the [Spirit Devourer] bloodline.
Stark believed the name already gave away enough information as to why he wanted it.
It was also one of the strongest bloodlines one could acquire, as it would scale with the user.
No matter the stage, it would remain useful.
Fwish!
The [Mist Camouflage Spirit] kept appearing and disappearing through the fog, slashing every time it showed up.
Slash! Smash!
Every hit clashed against his barrier, leaving thin cracks.
Stark kept casting—
Vines of Fate! Crystals of Death!
But neither could touch it.
Every time the spells hit where it stood, the spirit had already disappeared.
"Tch."
He needed a way to catch it mid-phase.
Fwish!
The boss appeared again behind him, ready to strike.
Bind of Silk!
Stark spun instantly, the staff in his hand deflecting the scythe.
The glowing silk shot forward, wrapping the area in shining threads.
The spirit tried to vanish again, but the silk still found its mark.
Just because it turned invisible didn't mean it became intangible.
-441,120!
The impact forced the air to shake, revealing the faint outline of the trapped boss.
Even a binding spell did that much damage now.
Stark grinned.
The boss struggled, its translucent body twisting violently inside the bindings, trying to phase out.
But it was useless.
"Getting revenge for the ghost wolf," Stark muttered, raising his staff.
The spirit's faint, hollow eyes stared back at him.
Piercing Skeletal Spikes! Torrent of Lightning!
The ground trembled as the attacks landed.
-72,000! -72,000! -661,680! -661,680!
The last hit caused a surge of energy that tore through the mist.
The [Mist Camouflage Spirit] let out a distant, distorted shriek before its body shattered into a thousand glowing particles, scattering into the air like silver dust.
Silence. The boss was gone.
'I really need to evolve [Vines of Fate] and [Crystals of Death],' Stark thought as he lowered his staff.
They were strong, but compared to his newer skills, the difference was obvious.
He needed more EP to evolve them, but for now, that could wait.
Ding!
---
[You have killed x3 "Mist Reaper (Level 40)"]
[You have killed x3 "Mist Wolf (Level 41)"]
[You have killed "Mist Camouflage Spirit (Level 41 Special Boss)"]
[You have gained 375,000 experience points!]
[Congratulations, you have leveled up to Level 39!]
[You have gained 5 points in all of your attributes, and 5 free points to distribute.]
[You have gained 19 Evolution Points!]
[You have gained 103 Lives!]
---
Stark checked the notifications quickly.
This was good and all, but Stark had one big regret with the [Land of Mist].
It was still the best grinding spots once you reached level 40 after being done with the [Demonic Ruins].
But... The [Land of Mist] had monsters that were all bound by the same element controlling the zone itself.
Fwish!
Hand of Avarice!
Beep!
["Hand of Avarice" has failed.]
As expected. When the mist monsters died, their bodies didn't stay.
They simply dissolved back into the fog.
The same had happened with the level 30 [Mist Reapers] before, and it was the same here.
He couldn't loot EP, Lives or items from those directly linked to the mist.
Still, that didn't mean he gained nothing.
Several items remained on the ground where the reapers and wolves had died.
Among them were scythes, fangs, and something larger, a curved blade floating faintly before fading into view.
---
[Camouflage Scythe (Legendary): Assassin/Sentinel-type weapon. +1,760 Strength, +800 Agility. Requirement: Level 41.]
[Mist Camouflage (Active Skill): Summon a wall of silver mist around yourself and blend within it to confuse opponents.]
---
"Decent enough," Stark said flatly, storing it away in his inventory along with everything else.
Now that the battle was done, he turned his focus back to his level-up.
Reaching level 39 meant something important.
He could finally equip the [Demonic Wyvern Scales Robe (Legendary)] he'd gotten before.
He opened his inventory and swapped it instantly.
---
[Demonic Wyvern Scales Robe (Legendary): Mage/Priest-type equipment. +1,500 Spirit, +700 Constitution. Requirement: Level 39.]
---
The second he equipped it, his mana surged violently.
The scales across the robe shimmered faintly, red and black veins of power running through it.
He tossed his old [Calamity Fur Robe (Epic)] into the inventory without a second glance.
The difference was like night and day.
His strength had climbed again, and he felt confident he could take on anything in this zone short of the bloodline monster.
[Spirit: 308 (+2,916)]
'Yeah... that's more like it.'
He grinned.
Stark pulled out his mount bell and shook it lightly.
The [Ghost Wolf] appeared moments later, its body still covered in faint mist, but something was off.
It was lying on the ground, breathing softly.
Its side was still wounded from before.
'Still recovering, huh.'
Mounts healed automatically inside their "space," but it took time.
Given a few hours, it'd be fully healed.
Stark crouched beside it, patting its head once before unsummoning it again.
He wanted it to rest properly this time.
The last fight proved one thing, loyalty wasn't enough if the mount couldn't survive the zone's strength.
Still, he was glad it tried.
He stood up, dusted himself off, and faced the mist once again.
The path deeper into the [Land of Mist] was waiting.
"Let's see what else you've got," Stark muttered, walking forward.
His staff gleamed faintly under the dim light.
Each of his steps echoed softly, swallowed by the endless fog around him.