1194: 404.
Dog Planner is addicted to rehashing old stuff, “Disaster of the Wolf People” is probably going to be remade too.
1194: 404.
Dog Planner is addicted to rehashing old stuff, “Disaster of the Wolf People” is probably going to be remade too.
In theory, tonight’s events did not require the intervention of an NPC of Murphy’s level, but the Governor still made his appearance.
Firstly, he wanted to inspire morale among his new players, to assert his presence in front of them.
Secondly, with Crimson Castle, this “main city,” lacking many veteran players, relying solely on the combat capabilities of the newcors was uncertain against the hordes of Ghouls, which had grown frenzied from hunger.
Of course, there was a third reason.
Since defeating the corrupt swordsn summoned by Mrs.
Cecilia, Murphy had not drawn his sword in battle.
Even though he had been practicing swordsmanship with the “Evil Master,” a superb swordsmanship instructor, Murphy felt he should take this opportunity to stretch his legs.
He felt that if he didn’t get moving, his bones would start to rust.
Murphy’s tily and appropriate arrival did, indeed, bolster morale as he had anticipated.
Especially after they witnessed Sir Murphy’s valiant swipe, a Crimson arc slash that instant-killed three Elite Ghouls, the new players, with little experience and just thrown into the fray, shouted in awe, “Whoa, so fierce!”
This familiar praise filled Murphy with satisfaction.
As a main quest NPC, he had to occasionally demonstrate his power to solidify the players’ intrinsic perception that “Sir Murphy is a formidable character.”
However, this performance, worthy of an Oscar, couldn’t fool Triss, who had been monitoring the city all along.
As Murphy summoned a pack of wolves to assist the novice players in clearing the sewers, Triss’s teasing and curious inquiry echoed in his ear,
The Crimson Witch said,
“It’s just a minor Ghoul uprising; why would our esteed Sir Murphy need to personally intervene?
So, my little drama king, Murphy, do you feel itchy all over and regretful if you don’t show off your bravery and concern for your subjects for even a day?”
“I am rely defending my people.”
Murphy replied with a stern face,
“And don’t just randomly use phrases you learn; my actions are not that of a ‘drama king.'”
In his mind, he responded to Triss’s banter, while swinging the staff-sword in a flicking motion, batting back the corrupt spell orb thrown by the Resentful spirit like a baseball.
Using a sword to cut through spells sounded absurd, and doing so on the battlefield was definitely not advisable.
Psychic spells like solidified orbs had no physical form and were highly unstable; slicing with a sharp blade would only cause the internal magic structure to collapse faster, leading to unnecessary explosions and dispersion.
Yet, through Murphy’s “magical maneuvering,” the orb of corruption not only got deflected back with his sword but also hit the Resentful spirit who cast the spell, rendering it engulfed by the explosive release of the spell.
This scene was witnessed first-hand by the newly emboldened players, who gaped in astonishnt, exclaiming,
“Holy shit!
Light Saber deflection like a Jedi!
What hasn’t this crazy ga mashed in?!”
“Pah, inexperienced tyke.”
Having flawlessly deflected the attack, Murphy heard the exclamation and scoffed.
This was not inspiration from Jedi swordplay; this unique Psychic deflection was a core skill of the Psychic Secret Swordsmanship Skill of the Clan of Secret Blood.
Murphy had mastered this swordsmanship to the point of nearing the master level.
He did not have a clear understanding of how powerful a Psychic Spell this skill could deflect, but according to Triss, she had seen an elder of the Clan of Secret Blood deflect a Lightning Storm from a Great Druid using his sword, giving the incensed Druid a firsthand experience of what “Nature’s Fury” entailed.
Getting smacked in the face by a Lightning Storm must have hurt like hell, likely leaving quite the collection of bruises.
“Warriors!
Follow !
Break through their lines!”
Murphy brandished his staff-sword, leading the pack of wolves encircling him, with George at the helm, barreling forward, followed closely by the Cadman People’s Army and the supporting Witch Hunters.
Thanks to the defensive line they had established in the sewers not being breached, the first wave of Ghouls did not spread to the first level of the sewers and were pushed back.
Lacking the “core will” of the Plague Rat King or a Ghoul Overlord, these instinct-driven Ghouls, although nurous, were far less threatening than the previous Night of Ghouls.
After all, this “random event” was simply ant to provide a “leveling area” for newly arrived players, and in itself it posed no threat to Crimson Castle’s current strength.
“This is a play you’ve set up in concert with Doris!”
As Murphy led the players in pushing the Ghouls back to the third level of the cavern, Triss’s voice rang out again, this ti with a hint of gravity.
She asked,
“Which faction are you planning to pin this on this ti?
Who will be the target of the warriors’ rallied spirits?
Don’t tell you’re preparing to open a third raid?”
“Smart girl, my dear and wise girlfriend.”
Murphy sheathed his sword.
Looking around at the young players making a clamor, clutching rudintary weapons, and charging at the Ghouls under the cover of the People’s Army veterans, he felt gratified thinking that the youth of his great Ceris tribe were indeed abundant in martial virtue.
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