NOVEL NEXT Chapter 101: The Golden Storm
Epitaph lay sprawled on the ground, staring at the system interface, now faded to a dead ash-white. What had just happened? The only thing he could recall was a golden storm roaring into view, and then nothing—only the cold reality of being downed.
It didn't make sense. He had led a small squad of rogues to harass Featherlight, and they had the advantage. They had flanked him perfectly, and their target had been busy drawing in monsters. There was no reason Featherlight should have detected them while they were still cloaked in stealth.
Turning his gaze to the right, Epitaph saw two bodies lying close by—too familiar to mistake. The two rogues who had accompanied him were gone, their corpses cooling beside his own. In the blink of an eye, all three of them had been wiped out by Featherlight, along with the entire swarm of monsters in the area. To Featherlight, they had been no different from the mobs he had been clearing.
The humiliation burned hotter than the pain of defeat. Epitaph wasn't just another player. He had been the first in Reaper's Call to reach the rank of Corporal, a name feared in PvP for his skill and cunning. And yet, here he was—cut down in seconds, discarded like a nameless creature on the side of the road. The shame was suffocating.
Moments earlier, when Moonlight Beauty's sharp voice had cut through the battlefield, Ryan had acted without hesitation. He triggered his Suspicion talent and immediately backpedaled, scanning the area. Within seconds, faint shimmering outlines began to emerge—the barely visible distortions that betrayed rogues in stealth.
The rogues had no time to process being discovered. Ryan unleashed his ultimate from the Retribution build: Divine Storm. A golden tempest erupted from beneath his feet, the light so fierce it swallowed the ground in a ten-yard circle. In the same heartbeat, a grenade detonated among the rogues, shredding their health and locking their bodies in place for two precious seconds.
By the time the paralysis faded, Ryan's shield was already in motion, flying from his hand and crashing into the undead rogues. It tore through their defenses, draining their life in rapid bursts. Only then did the rogues truly react, shaking off the last of the shock and lunging in for the kill.
Rogues are built for one thing—explosive bursts of damage before their energy runs dry. Against most opponents of equal level and gear, nothing could withstand the sheer violence of that first flurry. These rogues had the same idea: hit the paladin with everything they had, then vanish before he could recover. They figured that with each rogue dealing roughly four hundred points of damage, five of them striking together would deliver more than enough to bring him down.
In their heads, it was a perfect plan. In reality, it was a disaster. Their combined strikes tore into Ryan for more than two thousand points of damage—enough to obliterate almost anyone else in the game. But this was Featherlight. His Glorious Achievements had pushed his health far beyond normal limits, and the Godslayer title only added more. Their furious assault carved away no more than two-thirds of his health.
And now, their burst was over. A rogue with an empty energy bar is a shadow without teeth. All that was left to them were weak, sluggish swings—barely an annoyance to a paladin still standing.
Ryan chuckled, calmly waiting for Divine Storm's cooldown to finish. When it was ready, the golden whirlwind surged from his feet again, this time with a killing edge. Several critical strikes landed in quick succession, cutting down a few of the rogues where they stood. The assault dealt more than three thousand total damage, and the light-infused strikes returned over twelve hundred points of healing to him, bringing his health back to nearly three thousand.
The rogue squad, now reduced to three, broke. They downed Free Action Potions, triggered Sprint, and bolted. Facing a paladin who still had more than seventy percent of his health was suicide.
They didn't get far. Two figures were waiting ahead—Moonlight Beauty and Nonsense—both wearing confident smirks. They hadn't rushed to Ryan's side when the attack began. Instead, they had circled the area, anticipating exactly this: a panicked retreat. Having seen Ryan's monstrous health bar earlier, they had full faith in the outcome.
The trap was perfect. Three of the rogues had already fallen, leaving only two, both limping along with barely a sliver of health. Moonlight Beauty and Nonsense had even disengaged from their earlier fight, keeping their Warrior's Charge ready. As the rogues sprinted straight toward them, crimson light flared behind the warriors' advancing forms. They crashed into their targets, a single decisive strike each finishing the job. The honor rewards were substantial.
"Haha, these guys were all Corporals, so their honor gains are pretty good!" Moonlight Beauty laughed, strolling over to Ryan and eyeing the three corpses at his feet. Players earned more honor for defeating higher-ranked opponents, but the same system cut the other way—ranked players who lost a fight bled honor fast, risking demotion if they fell too far.
"Higher ranks definitely mean more honor," Ryan agreed. "Those rogues must be fuming."
The three of them moved on. "Think they'll try again?" Moonlight Beauty asked.
"Not a chance," Nonsense replied. " Guild Leader's too strong. Even five more wouldn't be enough. They probably soiled themselves when they saw his health bar."
By the time Ryan and his companions were long gone, the rogues' souls drifted back to their bodies. They revived cautiously, scanning the area to make sure the coast was clear before slipping into stealth again.
Once they regrouped, their expressions told the whole story. "That guy's a monster," one muttered. "Five rogues, full burst, and we couldn't bring him down."
Epitaph let out a long breath. "Forget it. We couldn't even slow him down, let alone harass him. If we try again, Featherlight will just wipe us out instantly."
"Only if we had ten rogues could we maybe burst him down in one go," another added. "Five just isn't enough."
The group exchanged bitter glances and vanished back into the shadows, their pride left behind in the dirt.