Chapter 667 [Returning Wave Shield Stance]

Dire Corbies, a humanoid monster species inhabiting the Underdark, were not particularly strong in terms of raw combat power; their Challenge Rating was only "1/2".

Normally, a proper party of Class Holders could not possibly meet their end at the hands of such a monster.

In reality, however, Dire Corbies were among the monsters adventurers least wanted to encounter in the Underdark.

The core reason for this stemmed from their special ability: "Terrifying Shriek."

After a brief wind-up, a Dire Corby would unleash a piercing screech. Any non-Dire Corby creature caught within a sixty-foot radius of the soundwave would be forced to make a Perception Saving Throw.

If the Saving Throw succeeded, naturally nothing would happen. If it failed, the affected target would suffer movement and spellcasting restrictions for a set duration. Not only would they be unable to move or climb quickly, but their spellcasting would also be restricted to below the 1st Circle.

A single Dire Corby's shriek could just barely be withstood.

However, Dire Corbies were famously gregarious creatures within the Underdark.

Much like migratory birds on the surface or herbivores on the plains, Dire Corbies were driven by racial instinct to gather in massive flocks, roaming and wreaking havoc through the tunnels and caverns of the Underdark in specific patterns.

Sometimes, even powerful monsters with Challenge Ratings high enough to make low-tier adventurers wet their pants wouldn't dare show their heads when a massive flock of Dire Corbies passed their doorsteps, instead cowering quietly in their nests to avoid trouble.

Xia Nan might possess outstanding Perception, allowing him to easily succeed on Saving Throws against the "Terrifying Shriek" of one or two typical Dire Corbies.

But when their numbers reached several dozen or even over a hundred, a failed Saving Throw became almost inevitable under the sheer volume of successive impacts, even if his Perception attribute bonuses reduced the chance of falling victim to a mere one percent.

Not to mention the amplified power of so many Dire Corby shrieks overlapping.

This was exactly why he hadn't hesitated to burn one of his limited short-term uses of [Gravity Etching] to forcibly interrupt the creature.

If he had actually allowed the creature to draw in the main flock of Dire Corbies that was highly likely nearby, Xia Nan really wasn't sure he could handle it.

Even if he somehow managed to escape with his life, it would inevitably cost him one or two precious life-saving trump cards.

Looking at the Dire Corby corpse collapsed on the ground ahead, Xia Nan couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

He brought Fanny forward to inspect it.

Originally, he had wondered if he could harvest any valuable materials from the body. After all, to a certain extent, Dire Corbies fell into the "gimmick monster" category.

He thought he might find something near the vocal cords or whatever vocal organs were linked to its "Terrifying Shriek" ability.

But upon closer observation, he found that the Dire Corby's upper half had already been reduced to splattered minced meat under the devastation of the force field.

He dropped the idea and continued on his way.

Following normal logic, a relatively cautious adventurer who encountered a lone Dire Corby mid-journey would often turn back to avoid the massive flock that likely followed.

They would retrace the old path that had just taken them half an hour to walk and pick a different direction from the drop point.

But the situation in the Underdark was entirely different.

It was like a massive natural maze. Given the endlessly intricate and branching subterranean tunnels and caverns, unless one was truly familiar with the local environment or possessed some sort of bizarre item, picking a path completely depended on luck.

To put it bluntly, even knowing this Dire Corby might be a scout and that its massive flock was just a short distance behind, you would still be hard-pressed to pick the correct tunnel leading to your goal when forced to make a "one-out-of-three" or "one-out-of-four" choice every few hundred meters.

A single wrong choice would only lead you further and further away from your intended destination.

If he chose to turn back, thirty-minute time cost aside, who could guarantee that the next path Xia Nan picked would be completely safe?

There could even be an adult red dragon guarding the end of the tunnel for all he knew.

The Underdark, the vast majority of the time, was fraught with the unknown and danger.

At present, Xia Nan could at least identify the enemies he might face ahead, prepare accordingly for a potential encounter, and drastically increase his chances of survival when that danger arrived.

He stood in place and pondered for a moment, then followed his Perception instincts.

Taking Winter Wolf Fanny with him, the man and wolf stepped over the Dire Corby's corpse and pressed onward.

It was hard to say whether Xia Nan's luck was good or bad.

After walking forward for another twenty minutes, he stumbled upon the Dire Corby flock—or rather, their corpses.

This was a rather large underground karst cave. Sweeping his gaze across it, he estimated it was at least six or seven hundred square meters in size.

In contrast, the ceiling was notably low, just over two meters high. This made walking through it feel exceptionally oppressive for Xia Nan, who already stood at a height of 1.9 meters.

Over forty Dire Corby corpses were scattered across the cave floor.

Xia Nan wasn't sure if this was the main flock of the lone Dire Corby he had just encountered, or merely a small splinter group.

But it was obvious that these "underground migratory birds" had run into an enemy even more dangerous than themselves.

Under the effect of his Perception, he carefully examined the wounds on the Dire Corby corpses.

It was somewhat strange. The vast majority of these wounds were not the jagged claw and bite marks left by subterranean monsters, as Xia Nan had imagined, but instead looked like injuries caused by weapons forged by intelligent beings.

Bludgeoning, piercing, slashing—Xia Nan even found a spearhead wedged deep inside the wound of one Dire Corby corpse.

What was this? An underground army?

He wasn't actually all that surprised. After all, quite a few intelligent races lived in the Underdark. Whether it was the dark-skinned Drow Elves or the duergar, who were just as stout and sturdy as their cousins, both possessed the means to handle these Dire Corbies.

But—for some unknown reason, as Xia Nan stared at the Dire Corby corpses and their wounds strewn across the cavern, an indescribable sense of déjà vu welled up in his heart.

Aside from the aforementioned Drow and duergar, those capable of forging simple cold weapons beneath the surface were actually—

"Bang!"

A strange noise suddenly echoing from a narrow corridor on the southwest side of the cave interrupted Xia Nan's train of thought.

Although the sound was somewhat distorted by the rock walls, Xia Nan's incredibly rich combat experience still allowed him to vaguely deduce that it was the noise of a blunt weapon slamming into flesh.

He hesitated, debating whether he should let his curiosity drive him to investigate, or uphold an adventurer's principles and refuse to let unexpected variables disrupt his plans with spur-of-the-moment decisions.

Right at that moment, closely following the blunt weapon impacts, a deeply familiar human roar made Xia Nan freeze in surprise.

"Ah!!!"

His gaze couldn't help but drop to his side, where Winter Wolf Fanny had already pricked up her ears and was staring in the direction of the noise.

"I didn't hear that wrong, did I..." he muttered instinctively.

"Why are they here?"

"Ahhh!"

Zanfrey roared furiously, throwing his entire body weight forward as he viciously shoved his slime- and grime-covered round shield ahead.

He came from a background of fine robes and jade delicacies, having never gone hungry a single day in his life. Blessed with abundant nutrition, his physical development far outstripped his peers, and he had spent years training under his family's instructors.

Even though he was only sixteen, his explosive burst of strength was no weaker than that of many adults.

Pushing with all his might, he actually managed to shove the ghoul in front of him into a stagger, forcing its center of gravity backward as it swayed.

Prowling by his side in support was a youth whose life of fishing on the open sea had granted him courage and a sense for seizing opportunities far beyond the norm.

Seeing this, Winsor didn't hesitate in the slightest. With two quick strides, he closed in on the ghoul.

Gripping his sharp shortsword with both hands, he thrust it straight for the ghoul's vital neck.

His timing was impeccable, the sword's trajectory was nothing short of precise, and there was a decent amount of force behind the blow.

If the ghoul before them had been a slightly weaker monster, or even a fragile Level 1 Class Holder with no defensive capabilities, it might have actually been cornered and slain by the two youths right then and there.

But even though it had lost an arm from falling from a great height, and the flesh on half of its torso had been ground away to reveal pale ribs clinging to torn meat, causing its overall combat power to drop significantly...

...it was still a powerful monster with a Challenge Rating 1, sitting on the same tier as a bugbear.

Facing two youths who hadn't even obtained their Class Levels, it ultimately held a near-crushing advantage.

"Squelch!"

The sharp blade pierced straight into the flesh of the ghoul's neck, which was covered in festering sores and pustules. At first, it felt as if the creature had no defensive capabilities at all, its skin softer than a normal person's.

But the moment Winsor applied a little more force, trying to drive the blade deeper, he was met with a viscous resistance akin to a muddy swamp. The blade couldn't even reach the cervical vertebrae before it got completely wedged in the flesh.

Had it been any normal person, seeing their shortsword struggling to push forward and practically jammed in the enemy's flesh while the ghoul was on the verge of recovering its mobility...

...they probably would have let go of the hilt and retreated immediately. Even if it meant losing their weapon, they couldn't afford to eat the ghoul's counterattack.

But as it happened, the one wielding the shortsword was Winsor, the young fisherman from Salt Rock Port.

Though his face appeared calm and collected, in actual combat, he fought with a fearlessness that outmatched even the most primal half-orcs, completely disregarding his own safety.

Instead of letting go, he applied even more force, leaning his entire body weight onto the shortsword in his hands.

"Squelch!"

Under the full weight of the youth's body, the stalled blade violently pierced another fraction of an inch deeper. A muffled thud rang out as the sword tip struck bone through the layers of flesh.

"Screech!!"

The excruciating pain shooting from its neck caused the ghoul, which had just barely managed to stabilize itself, to let out a shrill howl of agony.

Its elongated, twisted, razor-sharp claws instantly swiped toward the youth beside it.

Having poured every ounce of his strength into the shortsword, Winsor naturally had no way to dodge the incoming blow.

Furthermore, the light armor he wore offered practically no defense against an attack of this magnitude.

In such a state, a direct hit from the ghoul's claws would guarantee severe injury. There was no other possibility.

Just in the nick of time, a flash of blond hair stepped forward from the side, a shield raised high.

His left arm lifted, while his right hand smoothly braced the Faceted Hammer against the back of the round shield.

Using something akin to a "shield bash" posture, he threw himself between Winsor and the danger.

He didn't have much actual combat experience, but the traditional training of the Shield of the Silver Lake family caused Zanfrey to subconsciously protect his teammate, utilizing the shield in his hand to its absolute limits.

"Crash!"

His reaction was timely, but his physical attributes were ultimately still those of an ordinary person.

Facing such a heavy blow from the ghoul, the blond youth only felt a tremendous force transmit through the shield. In a flash, half of his body seemed to go numb.

His feet left the ground, and he was on the verge of entirely losing his balance and falling into an extremely dangerous, compromised position.

Beside him, Winsor—who had narrowly avoided a severe injury thanks to Zanfrey's protection—snapped out of his wild, aggressive state and reacted.

He actively offered his own body as a meat cushion, catching the rapidly backpedaling and nearly falling Zanfrey to help stabilize him, though the residual force sent Winsor tumbling awkwardly to the ground.

This was no turn-based game; naturally, the ghoul wasn't going to wait for the two of them to recover their footing before attacking again.

Zanfrey had just managed to steady himself with Winsor's help. Before he could even catch his breath, a set of razor-sharp claws swung down at him from a diagonal angle.

Blocking the previous heavy blow had already pushed the youth to his absolute limits.

Right now, with half his body numb and devoid of feeling, and his overall strength sapped, there was no way the barely-shield-bearing youth could stop the descending claws.

"Crash!"

Under the brutal impact, the shield guarding his front was abruptly knocked aside. His left arm lost all strength, leaving his chest completely defenseless.

Seeing the claws about to tear into him, Zanfrey gritted his teeth, his body instinctively surging with exertion.

His face turned deathly pale in an instant, as if he had burned through a massive amount of stamina in a split second.

Yet, across the surface of the knocked-away round shield, a faint blue glow blossomed.

In a motion that seemingly defied the laws of physics, the shield's outward momentum was forcibly halted. Then, moving several times faster than normal until it was little more than a blur, the shield was yanked right back into its defensive posture, returning to guard his chest.

[Returning Wave Shield Stance]!

It was one of the legacy combat techniques of the Shield of the Silver Lake family. It allowed the user to forcibly interrupt their current action to rapidly throw up a guard, temporarily enhancing their shield's defensive capabilities in the process.

"Hum."

Snapping back from its deflected state, the faintly glowing shield once again squarely blocked the ghoul's incoming claw swipe.

However, the youth's body had ultimately reached its limit.

Even though he barely parried the strike with the reinforced shield, the sheer force of the blow made blood trickle from the corner of his mouth and caused his vision to blur.

Though he appeared to still be holding his defensive stance, in reality, he was locked in a stiff, near-paralyzed state of exhaustion.

"Screech!"

Naturally, the monster would not show mercy.

Roaring madly, the ghoul lunged its hideous, mangled body at the blond youth.

But before its feet could even leave the ground...

...a fleeting wolf's silhouette flashed in the corner of its vision.

A simple, archaic wooden sword wreathed in flames pierced into the side of the creature's skull with impossible smoothness, sinking in as if its flesh and bone were nothing but air.

With a slight exertion of force and a gentle flick of the wrist...

The top of its skull, still clinging to a few tufts of unruly, weed-like hair, was sent flying high into the air in a shower of red and white gore.

The howling of the flaming sword tearing through the air vanished in an instant, and the ghoul's shrieks came to an abrupt halt.