Or so it seemed. After the bright flash of lightning had dazzled their retinas, their sight gradually returned and the few survivors were given the opportunity to behold the scope of the disaster.
All the coaches and carriages that were still standing had a gaping hole in them, while the wood and cloth that were often part of their design had caught fire or burned to a crisp.
Of the 2,400 refugees still alive, more than 2,000 had been blown to death on impact. The remaining 400 survived only by a fortunate bination of circumstances. Once unleashed, the lightning had an erratic trajectory.
Those who were closest to the mysterious attacker had somehow borne the brunt of the attack for the others. As the lightning weakened with each subsequent person struck, the 400 survivors escaped with minor injuries, but many of them, including a few children, required emergency treatment that no one could provide.
The toughest humans were also the ones least afraid of these Vampires and the attacker had made a special effort to target them first.
The Pastry Chef who had so impressed the Wengols with her bravery and brawn lay curled up in a ring of barren ashes, her remains irreversibly charred, a huge smoking hole in her chest. She was no longer breathing.
The other exceptional craftsmen had not escaped either. The few elite officers and soldiers who had protected the civilians so far had also been targeted first, and only one Rank A warrior with the rank of mander was still standing, though badly scorched.
The only craftsman who barely survived was the sturdy blacksmith who was close to retirement. He owed his survival only to the extraordinary features of his Soul Class. A Grandmaster Blacksmith could also forge any material, including treating his own body as such. At his level, the strength of his body was parable in every way to that of his best creations.
As for the Wengols, their anatomy was fundamentally superior to that of humans and these 300 warriors represented the elite of the elite. In addition to being much more massive and rugged, the oil their skin produced also seemed to have good electrical insulating potential. Only half of them had been culled.
However, the remaining 150 survivors did not fare so well. To survive, they had excreted most of the water and oil content of their bodies, and even with this asset their once slimy and smooth skin had bee as cracked and pitch black as a lump of coal. In the end, only Urzul and his two second in mand were still able to fight.
Then there was Jake and Ruby. If there was one target that the man who unleashed this dreadful outpouring of lightning had to take down, it was this male Mutant.
Staring stoically into the sky, where the biggest lightning bolt had struck, the enigmatic attacker squinted his eyes gravely as he saw two silhouettes reappear in the same position.
" Bloody hell! I wouldn't want to take that one in the face!" Jake whistled audibly as he turned off his Oracle Shield.
Indeed, he had activated his Oracle Shield in time. Jake had sensed early on that the situation was going to get out of hand. Whether it was a native, or a Player, he had taken precautions. With his Oracle Cloaking and Promotion skills activated, the probability of a Player having a better Oracle Rank than him in this Ordeal was extremely low.
And his gamble had paid off. Throughout this battle, and even more so after the arrival of those Vampires, Jake had never let up, always keeping an eye on his Shadow Guide. With his intelligence and multitasking ability, it wasn't hard.
When the Shadow Guide suddenly activated his Oracle Shield, Jake didn't even think for a second and activated his own. He still didn't trust the Oracle System, preferring to act on his own, but when the latter advised him to protect himself urgently, he would be a plete retard if he were to ignore such a warning.
"Cough, cough! Help me instead of bitching... I took it straight on..." A throaty female voice, as faint as a whisper suddenly blurted out to his right.
Who else could it be but Ruby? The chitin armor had been pletely glazed over and the skin underneath was utterly charred. If the cold accumulated in her cells had not burst forth a moment earlier, she would have ended up scorched like the others.
Jake was speechless.
"You didn't activate your Oracle Shield in time?!" He exclaimed in mock concern, "Looks like karma isn't done with you yet. In the future, be a decent person."
His condescending, fawningly benevolent tone washed away the last shred of the young woman's posure.
" Go fuck yourself, shithead! If you hadn't forced me to fork over all my Aether, how could a situation like this ever happen?!" Ruby yammered, her haughty, loathsome posure finally cracking to give way to a young woman at her wit's end and full of resentment.
She was so pissed off and riled by his cocky smirking face that her usually icy exterior had taken on the plexion of a ripe tomato and a frustrated pout pursed her lips. She was about ready to fight it out with her fists right now!
Noticing that the two Mutants in the sky were still finding the leisure to squabble after being struck by lightning, a bemused frown flashed across their attacker's face.
"Interesting."
The man's casual, almost playful remark put an end to Jake's taunting. The two Players finally took the time to properly assess their assailant.
The spiritual pressure radiating from him was not much stronger than that of Jake and Ruby. That was weird enough considering the sheer power of his previous attack, but once they recognized the bracelet on his wrist they were left in no doubt.
This formidable opponent was a Player like them. Sneaking a glance at the other two hooded individuals, Jake wondered if these two were natives, or Players on the same team.
The lightning-wielding Player was a manly man, a genuine one. About 3 meters tall, his musculature was so developed and perfect that an ordinary human would have struggled to achieve such a physique without using doping products. Yet, in this guy, this musculature, this feeling of strength seemed pletely innate.
The man was young, but the thick mane, and the big tangled beard of the same hue as his lightning made him look 20 years older. His bushy eyebrows were so angled and his facial features so sharp that anyone would be spontaneously inclined to regard him as a tough guy.
The individual was shirtless, purely cosmetic red stripes tattooed on his chest and face. A metal shoulder pad sculpted to resemble some creature covered his left shoulder, and held in place by a horizontal leather band covering a portion of his pectoral and disappearing under his right armpit. His hands were covered by dirty strips browned by dried blood or wine, over which he had donned gauntlets made of the same leather and metal as his shoulder pad. For the rest, he wore loose pants and boots made of worn cloth and beast leather, a tanned hide falling around his waist to his knees and held in place with an equally worn belt.
A barbarian! That was the first ment that came to mind when describing this person. This Player would have gone unnoticed in the middle of a Viking mob, but unlike those glorified warriors of the past, his body was cloaked in a thin halo of electricity, crackling from time to time as an arc of electricity sizzled around him. His electric gaze sparkled with cleverness and was devoid of the lack of manners and brutality traditionally associated with such characters.
Looking at him, Jake knew at once that this Player was going to be one of his biggest rivals in this Ordeal. The barbarian had the same impression, but unlike Jake he only saw him as one of many players he would have to trample during his Ordeal.
Turning to the other two hooded figures waiting near the carriage, the barbarian queried their opinions with a look and the one controlling the Undeads ultimately nodded.
"Let's go. This is not the place to fight them. In some respects, we are on the same side." The third hooded figure croaked in a grating voice.
The Thunderman let out a disgruntled groan, but he calmly made his way to the carriage, obviously intending to leave.
"WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO LEAVE THIS PLACE?!"
Norton's abysmal voice rumbled through their eardrums, the sound wave blasting the plain with mind-numbing force. Looking up, Jake saw the huge gorilla titan drumming his chest with his fists from the top of the nearest mountain.
The reinforcements had finally arrived!
The huge beast fell back heavily into a quadrupedal position and with a spectacular leap hurtled through the air, despite its staggering mass of tens, if not hundreds, of tons. The gigantic creature landed in front of the convoy with a great crash, which made the earth shake and resulted in a large crater under its legs.
ROOOOARRRR!
A toothy grin crept across the face of the lightning-wielding barbarian as the shockwave and a monstrous spiritual blast hit him. Without budging, the Player crossed his fists in front of his face to protect himself from the debris, but his eyes remained locked on the monster.
"They tell Laudarkvik that the Mutant Faction is weak, but it looks like they lied or their data is wrong." The barbarian plimented, a flicker of warlike excitement flashing in his eyes.
Seeing the extent of the slaughter, Norton flatly ignored the tiny human's acknowledgment and picked up a huge boulder almost as large as him and smashed him down with it.
A demon gorilla was not known for chattering.
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