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The 'Extra' Lord (Unlimited Plunder) - Chapter 77
🕑 Added 2024-11-07 18:21:40 +0000 UTCLord Emblem — Strategic Command Network: Establishes a telepathic link with all Units within a 50-mile radius, allowing instantaneous communication of orders and updates.
Passive Bonus: Increases reaction speed of Units by 15% when executing commands sent through the link.
Owen’s brows rose at the Emblem. No wonder Jonah was able to order attacks from so far away. 50 miles… It sounded like a massive amount, and it was, technically. But in the Cursed Sands, 50 miles wasn’t even enough to reach a second Outpost.
But still, here, in this castle… Owen used the ability with a thought, a smile curling from his lips.
“Can anyone hear me?” Owen spoke through his mind. It was a strange sensation, as if he was talking to himself. But an answer rang through his ear the next moment. It was vaguely familiar, just more nasally and distorted. It was Bimpnottin.
“My Lord?”
“Oh that’s great, you can hear me!”
“My Lord!” Rizael shouted a moment later. “I was in the middle of creating a potion. I thought my mind was being invaded by an attacker. I spilt everything.”
Owen chuckled. “Sorry. Was just testing out a new ability.”
“Are you coming back How far are you? Close?”
“A few days travel, if we run,” he replied. “But I have some things to do here. Tell the others that I’ll be heading back tomorrow if all goes well.”
“People died… I couldn’t save them.”
“I know,” Owen replied, his throat tight. “I ended it on my end… Give them a good funeral. I’ll talk again later.”
Owen cut the command network as his gaze descended onto the dead bodies of the founders. Hassan, who he thought of as a friend, lay dead in a puddle of his and others' blood. Owen sighed, then plundered their bodies. He wasn’t as lucky this time. For Emblems, he only received one more: Rapid Mana Regeneration. It was from Doyles, their strongest magic user. It was also one of the weakest Emblems he had received, but that was par for the course with magic abilities. They were far more rare and potent compared to physical ones.
As for regular Skills, he received quite the haul. Most of them would go to his Units, but there was one he kept for himself: Improved Physiology. It was just like Condensed Muscles and would provide an extra burst of strength and durability.
Right now, his entire fighting style revolves around speed, strength, and reflexes. Together, it was a brutal combination. Along with his sand magic to obscure the battleground, he doubted there would be many, if any, first year Lord Candidates that were stronger than he was. After all, the amount of Stats he had essentially made him a 12-Star Talent.
Other than Skills, he had obtained an assortment of Fragments; swords, spears, and other more unique weapons like scythes. The armour was both light and heavy. None of which were better than his own, of course, but they’d prove essential to his friends.
“Done taking in your spoils?” Justin asked, looking up at the mountain pass.
“I am, why?” Owen followed his gaze and noticed that, despite it being later on in the day now, the serpents had arrived and were now looking down at the castle. There had to be at least two-hundred of them. Owen tightened his grip around his weapon.
“Because it looks like we’re in shits creek,” Justin said with a small smile.
“Ring the bell,” Owen said. “We can tell the others what’s happened when the fight is over.”
Owen contemplated summoning the troops from inside his storage—most of which he had never seen before. Jonah must have had them hidden. He also noticed that he had one more Alchemist. All of them could only be summoned from his territories.
Justin rang the bell, and twenty or so warriors came scrambling out from within the depths of the castle. When they noticed they were under attack, they rushed up the walls.
Deciding not to summon the Units that would only add to the confusion, Owen and his party stood atop the walls, along with the reinforcements. The ranged attacks of his team readied themselves.
“Wait,” Owen shouted his command, and everyone remained still. They hadn’t even realised that Larian wasn’t here, a testament to his fake leadership skills.
Owen waited until the serpents were a little closer, before thrusting his raised hand down. Then, like a wild storm, the sound of bow strings and crackling lightning ravaged the oncoming monster tide.
Standing atop the wall, watching the scene unfold, Owen thought to himself, The only thing I’m lacking is a ranged ability. Something to do with a sword, preferably. I’ll have to hunt one down.
Owen had a lot of knowledge lodged in his brain. Although he hadn’t managed to make much use of it yet apart from the odd thing or two, he knew exactly what monster dropped what Skill. He had one monster in mind. A Skill that would work seamlessly with his current fighting style.
But that was for later.
Unlike Larian, Owen used the tall walls to their utmost. When the serpents reached the bottom of the walls, he’d unleash boulders from his storage on top of them without care about who was watching. Without the viper at his neck, he wasn’t worried about showcasing a little of his unique power.
If the monsters weren’t crushed under the sheer weight of gargantuan boulders, then Gorath’s magic made quick work of the others. Cruz, also, showed the effectiveness of an archer dedicated to the pursuit of strength. His massive warbow didn’t care about distance, or armour. It reached all, boring holes through flesh, scales, and bone, all at once in devastating power.
But the troops of the castle didn’t escape entirely unscathed. The serpents also had archers, their arrows laced with powerful venom.
Owen quickly bought a few potions of anti-venom for now, and handed them to the healer—Natalia. She rushed around, healing the wounded.
How good would it be if she was a healer focused on poison? Owen mused to himself.
With the numbers of the serpents dwindling by the minute, it was almost time to personally get involved. But just as he was about to leap into the midst of battle, a bone chilling roar split open the noise of war.
Owen bit his tongue as he gazed up once again at the mountain pass. Each foot thundered, clearly heard from the castle.
“What’s that?” Cruz shouted.
Owen’s blood stilled. “It’s the mountain troll.”
Giving power to his words, a massive head emerged. Along with it, was a long white beard, piercing blue eyes, and the same flesh in the same hue. Muscles surrounded its body like bundled steel wire. It held an enormous club, made from a tree—or something even larger. Hundreds of spikes lined the weapon, creating a savage instrument of death.
It slammed its weapon, resting it against the mountain, before picking up a hulking boulder three times the size, no… at least 6 times the size of the ones Owen had dropped himself—and threw it right for the castle. Like ammunition fired from a catapult, it tore rioght for them, slamming into the wall, exploding it in a mangled mess of shrapnel. Four people were eviscerated into a bloody miss, their trace of existence gone with the breeze.
Owen, with bloodshot eyes, glanced back up at the beast and watched as it picked up yet another boulder.
“Retreat!” Owen screamed.
The moment his words left his mouth, all the others leapt off the battlements and into the town. A second later, another rock smashed into a nearby building, levelling the entire thing.
The monster picked up another.
“Do we fight it?” Mirian asked, her words short and quick.
“Absolutely not!” Owen shot back. “It’s not something we can fight. We return home. Rehan, guide them all back. I have a few things to grab.”
Rehan nodded and shouted, his words piercing the screams of pain. “Everyone follow me!”
Thankfully, once everyone noticed a large swath of them detach from the castle, they followed, mostly. Owen noticed a few stragglers continue further into the castle. Maybe for a thin grasp at safety, or maybe to loot.
Whatever the reason was, Owen followed them. Then, his instincts screamed at him. Time slowed. His heart thrashed. He glanced overhead to an oncoming boulder. It was accurate. But not at him.
“Watch out!” Owen screamed, but it was too late.
Three people who were about to enter the main castle were flattened in an instant, their figures vanishing. Owen sprinted full speed ahead. Activating Overpower, he swung his blade at the boulder in a crazed arc. He cut through the middle, separating it. In one swift movement, he rolled into the castle, and continued, sprinting full speed into the depths.
He had one aim: the alchemy. One thing was for certain, Larian—or rather Jonah—had put their entire wealth into that one room, and it was ripe for the picking.
Stomps approached, forcing Owen to grit his teeth. The troll wasn’t retreating. No. It was coming right for him.
Comments
Jonas
Thanks for the great chapter
