novelraw Chapter 385-2: The Mobile Power Bank, Amos (2)
Chapter 385-2: The Mobile Power Bank, Amos (2)
[Your summon Wailing Bone Dragon has died.]
Amos shut his eyes in despair. He knew that no matter how he resisted, he would never be a match for Cain. In the face of absolute strength, any trick was futile.
This sixth difficulty ‘little bro’ was absolutely stronger than Agabus, and not by just a little.
“Cain, I admit defeat…”
Amos collapsed weakly to the ground, feeling all strength leave his body as the immense terror of death quietly descended.
A ridiculous thought came to him. This man who used to call him Lord and had recently begun to address him as Bro already possessed strength far beyond the scope of a lower ranked Disciple.
His power was not something an ordinary demigod could withstand. Even if Agabus were here, faced with Cain, he would have only one path, that of death.
Even if Amos and Agabus joined forces, they still would not be Cain’s match.
Only now, at the moment of death, did Amos realize the truth. The Master’s attitude toward Cain was not mere favor. The Master must also have been secretly pouring resources into training and supporting Cain.
Otherwise, how could a sixth difficulty Apostle possess such overwhelming strength?Once he thought this, everything became clear.
Why were the victory conditions for this Disciple War so harsh, even to the point of being unprecedented?
Even Lord Vishnu had never heard of a situation where only three winners were allowed.
Now, Amos understood it all.
Of course the Master knew that Cain possessed such terrifying strength. The Master was pushing Cain up the ranks.
Once Cain killed both him and Agabus, all he would have to do was wait until the Disciples on the other two islands resolved their own fights.
After this Disciple War, Cain’s ranking would jump straight to third place, making him the Third Disciple.
Right, that weapon Cain held was very likely something he had obtained in the Blood Sun world.
The Master knew that Cain had experienced the Blood Sun world and had quietly given him special treatment by swapping out the Disciple selection Easter Egg Chapter for the Blood Sun world.
Or perhaps the Master had directly given Cain the secret strategy for the Blood Sun world, allowing him to obtain that incredibly powerful weapon and thereby cut down countless competitors to become the final winner of the Disciple selection.
Cain, are you the Master’s secret illegitimate son or what?
Amos believed he had seen through the entire truth.
“Bro, can you summon some more skeletons?”
Amos froze, then his anger surged and he snapped, “A gentleman may be killed but not humiliated. If you are going to kill me then do it. Do you still have to humiliate me before I die?”
Cain’s voice came once more through the headset. “Bro, your only path to survival is right in front of you. But if you won’t seize it, then your little bro will have no choice but to strike.”
Amos could not help but snort in disdain. A path to survival? What path?
Only one winner was allowed on each island. Even if Cain were willing to spare him, the rules could not be violated. Only one lower ranked Disciple could leave the Disciple War alive.
If two people could survive, he would already have joined forces with Cain and tried to face Agabus together…
In the state he was in now, did he really have a choice?
Amos was just about to sneer back when he suddenly stopped and shut his mouth.
No, there really was a path to survival.
Cain’s strength was overwhelmingly powerful, long since beyond the level of lower ranked Disciples. Killing a few competitors on a lower ranked Disciple island was no different from a max level veteran player slaughtering newbies in the starter village.
His strength had already surpassed mythic grade and might have even reached the edge of mythic+ grade. Even if he crossed to another region and went to the mid ranked Disciples’ island for the final battle, his odds of victory would still not be small.
“You, you are going to cross regions and participate in the mid ranked Disciples’ war?”
After receiving a confirming response, an endless regret rose in Amos’ heart.
He felt like a clown. He had quietly schemed everything, even planning to kill a teammate to gamble on a chance at victory.
If he had known from the start that Cain was this strong, strong enough to slaughter all of the lower ranked Disciples at will, if he had known that their little group of weaklings was never his real target, why would he have bothered with all these plans?
Wouldn’t he have been much better off hugging Cain’s thigh as tightly as possible?
Once he realized this, he immediately followed Cain’s instructions and activated a Shell skill to summon skeletal warrior undead.
Even ants cling to life, let alone humans…
[You raise the Wraith Curse Staff, chant the incantation, and trigger a Shell skill…]
[Soon, more than ten gray-white skeletal arms burst out of the ground. The dead buried deep underground respond to your call and become skeleton warriors to serve you.]
“Now that’s more like it.”
Cain chuckled softly with a meaningful tone.
[The Twelfth Disciple Cain swings the crimson greatsword. The bloody radiance instantly cuts the freshly unearthed skeleton warriors into countless fragments of bone.]
[Your temporary special summons Skeleton Warrior have died.]
[Your temporary special summons…]
[…]
[However, the scattered bones do not, like last time, release blood light that merges into the crimson greatsword.]
“These little skeletons are too trash, and there are too few of them. Aren’t you a necromancer? Where is your undead army?”
Those who spammed troops were all low level necromancers. As a Calamity Lich, Amos valued quality over quantity.
He could only argue silently in his heart and dared not say anything out loud as he continued to summon stronger undead.
At first he was still puzzled as to what Cain wanted. He quickly understood.
Cain was treating him like a power bank…
Low level undead were too weak and could not provide any blood energy for Cain’s weapon.
Mid level undead did generate blood energy, but the amount they provided was far too small and clearly could not satisfy Cain.
At that slow pace, even if Amos burned through all his mana, he would not be able to fully charge Cain’s ‘battery’.
He could not help remembering a rarely used, seemingly useless skill, Underworld Gate.
That skill could continuously summon mid level undead that could all provide a ‘charge’ and had no cap on their number, only a time limit.
Mid level undead summoned from the Underworld Gate could only remain in the mortal world for one minute after leaving the gate to fight.
Yet this was not the most useless part of the skill. The most useless part was that the Underworld Gate was a physical object with a health bar and could be destroyed after taking a certain amount of damage.
Such a skill was only good against mindless low level mobs. Forget bosses, it was not even much use against slightly intelligent elite monsters.
Yet this perpetually useless skill now shone brightly.
Maintaining the Underworld Gate consumed little mana, and Amos watched as undead poured out ceaselessly from it, only to immediately fall and die, while faint wisps of blood light continually flowed into the greatsword in Cain’s hand.
“That should be enough, Little Amos.”
At last, the crimson greatsword seemed to be fully charged. Thick, clotted blood aura coiled around it, and it no longer absorbed any more blood light.
When Amos heard himself addressed as Little Amos instead of Bro, he felt no displeasure and instead quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
He knew that this unbelievably powerful weapon certainly needed to expend the energy it had just absorbed in order to unleash its unmatched might.
And as a mobile power bank, Amos still had value. For a short time, he did not have to worry about his life.
He sensibly bowed his head and said respectfully, “Lord Cain, this subordinate is willing to serve you.”
Survival of the fittest was the law of the New World. Those who could not adapt to this rule already had grass three meters high growing over their graves.
For Amos to carve a bloody path out of tens of thousands of Apostles and become the Eleventh Disciple, he naturally understood this rule very well.
Was clinging to someone’s thigh shameful?
As long as the thigh you clung to was thick enough, it was not shameful at all.
[T/N: Extra 2 chapters since I didn’t realise that I duplicated some chapters previously.]