Chapter 649 - 543: Hey! Brother

Chapter 649: Chapter 543: Hey! Brother

Without a moment’s hesitation, Roland and his two companions hurried toward the sudden commotion.

But they didn’t charge rashly into the center of it. Instead, they moved quickly along the shadows of the cliff face at the edge of the headland, heading toward Shipwreck Bay.

Before they could get a clear view of the battlefield, a tidal wave of mixed sounds and smells washed over them, painting a vivid picture of a fierce, chaotic battle.

The sounds were the first thing to assault their senses.

Against the constant backdrop of wind and waves, jarring scrapes and explosive cracks erupted—the sound of metal violently striking something that was neither metal nor stone.

Mixed in were short, explosive war cries, beast-like roars, and piercing screams of agony or Fear.

Fragments of unintelligible Spell Chanting were abruptly cut off by explosions, followed by the muffled thrum of vibrating air as some low-humming Spell Force Field was deployed.

Occasionally, an unusually sharp, inhuman shriek would cut through the clamor, a sound that felt like it could pierce straight through the brain.

It wasn’t a sound received by the ears, but one that exploded directly in one’s consciousness.

It carried a cold fury and a lofty indifference that caused instant heart palpitations and scattered one’s thoughts. It was clearly the work of the Nightmare.

The smells, too, grew complex and intense.

The original salty scent of the sea was overwhelmed by the fresh, sickly-sweet smell of rust, mixed with the acrid stench of burnt flesh and the ozone-like residue of magical Energy.

And then there was a strange, indescribable odor, like a mixture of old ash and cold starlight.

The disturbance of Energy in the air also became incredibly intense.

At times, they could feel a searing wave of heat roll past; at others, a bone-chilling cold would sweep over them. Occasionally, a static charge would make their skin tingle.

They could even feel faint, irregular tremors in the ground beneath their feet.

It was either the pounding of heavy footsteps or the impact of some immensely powerful attack striking the earth.

Without even seeing it, the interweaving sounds, smells, and sensations had already pieced together a brutal, chaotic, and extremely dangerous scene of Extraordinary combat.

Soon, they reached the edge of a slightly elevated reef, and the full panorama of the battlefield finally unfolded before them.

Before them lay a relatively open tidal flat on the outskirts of Shipwreck Bay, covered in black sand and broken shells.

Right now, it had been turned into a slaughterhouse.

At the heart of the battle was the rumored Nightmare.

It was larger and more powerfully built than an ordinary warhorse, standing nearly eight feet tall at the shoulder. Its entire body was covered in a coat of pure black fur that seemed to absorb light.

But amid its fierce movements, an eerie sheen of deep blue or dark purple would occasionally ripple beneath its fur, like a swirling nebula.

Its four hooves made no sound as they touched the ground, but they were wreathed in a constantly dissipating mist of Shadow. Two steady flames of ethereal white fire burned in its eye sockets, radiating a cold, intelligent light.

A tail made of pure Shadow, its tip glittering with starlike motes of light, swished nimbly behind it.

It was currently under siege by more than twenty well-equipped Adventurers and Mercenaries who were clearly well-prepared.

But the attackers weren’t gaining any ground.

The Nightmare’s movements were elegant and lethal, as if it were performing a dance of death.

At times, it would "blink" short distances between shadows at a speed nearly impossible to follow with the naked eye, causing mighty War Axes and halberds to slice through empty air.

At others, it would rear up, its shadow-wreathed forehooves striking with immense force, kicking a stout man defending with his shield several yards through the air, man and shield both. The shield’s surface visibly caved in.

Its Shadow tail would sometimes lash out like a steel whip with a piercing whistle, sweeping aside agile figures trying to flank it and leaving them with broken bones.

Other times, the starlight at its tail’s tip would flare, firing a silent Shadow Arrow that precisely pierced the gaps in Light Armor.

Even more fearsome was the chilling aura it radiated, so cold it felt tangible.

Even from a distance, Roland and his companions could feel waves of heart-stopping cold.

Within the battle circle, the attackers with weaker wills were clearly sluggish, their faces pale.

Some even broke and ran, unable to bear it, only to be caught by a flicker of ethereal fire in the Nightmare’s eyes. They would then collapse, screaming and clutching their heads, trapped in some unknown terrifying Illusion.

But the attackers were by no means amateurs.

Amid roars of fury, heavily armored brutes with bulging muscles and reddened skin swung their Giant Swords in cleaving strikes powerful enough to shatter mountains, forcing the Nightmare to constantly dodge or parry.

Ghostly assailants weaved between shadows and debris, their poisoned Daggers and cold arrows flashing from cunning angles, trying to tear open a gap in its defenses.

A short distance away, the prayers and magical light from a white-robed Priest were incessant. He would strengthen his allies with blessings, then use tracer-like projectiles to disrupt the Nightmare’s vision, while glimmers of healing light occasionally flared up on the wounded.

The roar of Magic came from a Mage continuously brandishing his Magic Staff. Fireballs, Ice Storms, and Magic Missiles bombarded the creature in succession, while intermittently cast spiderwebs attempted to ensnare its elusive form.

There were even the sounds of strings and singing echoing from the edge of the battlefield. The music both bolstered the companions’ morale and transformed into invisible ripples that washed over the Otherworld creature, attempting to shake its Spirit.

The battle was exceptionally fierce. The brilliant flames of Magic and the swirling vortexes of Shadow intertwined, punctuated by the cold glint of weapons and splashes of blood.

Seven or eight mangled corpses and heavily wounded, unconscious bodies already littered the ground, their blood soaking the black sand.

But the remaining attackers were still fighting valiantly, their coordination growing more practiced. It was clear they intended to wear down this powerful Otherworld creature through a war of attrition.

However, the ethereal fire in the Nightmare’s eyes remained calm. Its movements showed no sign of panic; on the contrary, after adapting to the rhythm of the siege, its counterattacks grew more precise and efficient.

Although the scales of battle had not yet tipped decisively due to the sheer number of attackers, any onlooker could clearly sense the Nightmare’s effortless grace and overwhelming individual strength.

These attackers were unlikely to get what they wanted.

’Barbarians, Knights, Rangers, Priests, Mages... even a Minstrel... and a few Extraordinary Professions I haven’t encountered before, but...’

After carefully observing the Adventurers and Mercenaries surrounding the Nightmare, Roland quickly reached a conclusion in his mind.

’Their coordination is decent enough, but their strength is a far cry from my own.’

’There are a lot of them, but they shouldn’t pose a threat to me.’

With that thought, Roland’s gaze swept across the scene before locking onto the dark figure at the heart of the battle.

’Just as I thought...’

Roland drew the Short Spike from its sheath, his eyes narrowing slightly.

’This is the same Nightmare I encountered at the Secret Silver Hoof.’

Just as he was focusing his observation, the situation on the field suddenly changed.

From the ever-thickening gray-white sea fog in the direction of Shipwreck Bay, another team appeared like ghosts.

Unlike the motley-dressed Adventurers and Mercenaries currently besieging the Nightmare, who fought with a distinct lack of cohesion,

this newly arrived team of seven or eight people all wore matching dark gray cloaks and Light Armor with dark silver trim. They moved with silent speed and seamless coordination, clearly well-trained.

Their leader was a tall, slender Caster wielding a Rune Crystal Staff inlaid with complex silver Runes.

The moment he stepped onto the edge of the battlefield, without any extraneous movement, he pointed the tip of his Magic Staff toward the sky.

A ripple, invisible yet carrying a strong sense of spatial disturbance, suddenly spread out. It instantly enveloped half the tidal flat, perfectly covering the core area where the Nightmare was.

The Nightmare, just about to use its short-distance Shadow blink to evade a combined attack, froze abruptly as if it had slammed into a viscous, invisible wall.

"It’s a Secondary Space Anchor!"

Ellis’s pupils contracted. She gasped in a low voice, her tone clearly grave.

"That Magic can temporarily disrupt and solidify the spatial structure within a certain area, suppressing most short-distance teleportation and spatial jump abilities!"

"To have such fast Casting speed and such precise area control... this Mage’s understanding of the Force Field and Spatial School is profound. He’s no ordinary, self-taught Caster."

Although Holland didn’t understand what a "Space Anchor" was, he immediately sensed danger just by looking at the new team’s uniform movements, their cold and silent aura, and the way the Nightmare was instantly restrained.

He lowered his voice and spoke urgently to Roland.

"Boss! These new guys are tough nuts to crack, you can tell at a glance. Their coordination is way better than that rabble! Shouldn’t we wait and see first...?"

Roland’s gaze also sharpened.

He, too, sensed the new team’s heavy, disciplined aura.

While none of them could match him in individual strength, their collective sense of being rigorously trained and perfectly coordinated—along with the Caster who had opened with such a highly targeted High Ring Spell—all indicated that this was a formidable, professional team.

’If they join forces with the original attackers, even if I’m confident I could handle it, I can’t guarantee the aftershocks of the battle won’t startle or accidentally harm the Nightmare, or even allow it to seize the opportunity to escape completely.’

Just as his mind raced, weighing whether to intervene immediately...

THUD!

A dull, heavy blow landed.

Having lost its most reliable advantage—mobility—the Nightmare’s movements were clearly restricted.

In the instant it was hindered by the Space Anchor’s effect, the heavily armored Barbarian Warrior, who had been waiting for an opportunity, let out a wild roar and unleashed a long-charged strike. His Warhammer, wrapped in a furious red light, smashed viciously into the Nightmare’s shoulder blade.

Even for a powerful Otherworld creature, it was difficult to completely absorb the force of such a solid Heavy Strike.

The Nightmare let out a shriek mixed with pain and fury.

Its massive body staggered, its forelegs buckled, and it was sent crashing sideways by the blow that contained all the Barbarian’s Power. It slammed heavily onto the ground of gravel and sand, kicking up a cloud of dust.

It struggled to get up immediately, but the hammer blow had clearly caused significant damage; its movements were somewhat stiff.

The Shadowy mist surrounding its body also grew chaotic.

Worse, would the enemies eyeing it like tigers let such an opportunity slip by?

The light of swords, Arrows, and Magic flared once more from all directions, all aimed at the momentarily unbalanced creature.

At this critical moment, the Nightmare’s eyes, burning with ethereal white Flame, met Roland’s calm, watchful gaze from the shadows of the distant reef amidst its struggle and pain.

Roland, who had kept his [Animal Companion] Trait active around the clock with his Mind Perception open, "heard" an incredibly clear thought, pulsing with strong emotion, in his mind without any warning. It pierced directly through the din of battle and the distance between them.

"Hey! Bro! Roland!"

The mental voice was strange, with an inhuman Echo, but the tone held astonishment and a hint of...

An undeniable familiarity.

Immediately after, the cold, arrogant posture the Nightmare had maintained throughout the fight instantly crumbled.

Like a rabbit caught in a trap, it frantically kicked its suppressed, shadow-wreathed hooves, trying to break free from the restraint and the impending attacks.

At the same time, it "hurled" a barrage of thoughts at Roland’s consciousness, filled with urgency, grievance, and even a hint of exasperation.

"What are you doing just standing there staring? Can’t you see I’m getting my ass kicked? Hurry up and help me! These annoying two-legged creatures are relentless! Quick!"