Chapter 85 – Rage of the GoreBrinbare
"I appreciate your resilience… and as a result," Varthos said, his tone heavy with malice, "I'll answer one of your questions." He raised the Bloodcleaver and pointed it menacingly at Malik.
"Why did you choose to betray Blackroot City?" Malik asked, eyes narrowed, voice firm.
"Isn't it obvious?" Varthos scoffed. "The City Lord, of course. After all my sacrifice, he's going to choose his helpless daughter to succeed him? All while discarding my years of hard work like trash? Since I can't gain control of the city… I might as well destroy it—or help someone who wants to control it."
"Who's that person?" Malik pressed, anticipation rising in his chest like a tidal wave. Even if he died here, just gaining that info could push the quest forward.
"Enough talk, Adventurer!" Varthos snapped, his voice thunderous. "You may be blessed by the heavens and won't die from a single death… but dying by my Bloodcleaver is something else entirely. You'll be weakened for five full days!"
Malik's eye twitched at those words. Five days? In this world, five days was an eternity. Anything could happen…
Blood Sword Strike!
Iron Mountain Stance!
Malik activated his defensive stance just in time. Half the damage was absorbed, but even then, his HP dropped drastically—down to 50,000.
"Just one more strike… I can't die here." Malik growled, his breath ragged as he staggered back. Varthos charged forward, eyes crazed, sword howling in the air.
In that fleeting moment, a memory sparked—Kyrogh's hammer!
Malik gritted his teeth and summoned the weapon from his inventory. In a burst of light, the massive hammer materialized in his grip.
He met the incoming strike head-on.
Boom!
The clash shook the vaults. Malik deflected the Bloodcleaver, only losing 3,000 HP in the process.
"That's… Kyrogh's hammer?" Varthos froze mid-swing, staring at the weapon like it was a ghost. "How do you have it?"
"You guess," Malik replied coolly.
Varthos narrowed his eyes. "That hammer was created by the Hammer God himself… split into three parts, gifted to his loyal champions. This part belonged to Kyrogh… and now, it's in your hands? Tell me, Adventurer—how did you get it?"
Malik chuckled darkly. "It's simple. I killed him."
The vault seemed to grow cold at his words.
"You… defeated Kyrogh?" Varthos' voice dropped a pitch, his grip tightening on the Bloodcleaver. "Then I have no choice. I'll have to take this fight seriously."
[System Warning: Varthos has activated his passive skill. His attack power increases by 30%, while his opponent's attack drops by 20%.]
"Bastard!" Malik cursed, gritting his teeth as Varthos launched forward again. He barely blocked the flurry of slashes.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
For ten whole minutes, the two warriors clashed violently, scattering debris and shaking the vaults to their core. Malik's regeneration was being eaten away by the cursed effects of the Bloodcleaver, while he continued to pour spiritual energy into every counterstrike.
His HP dipped to 35%.
Blood Sword Strike!
Infernal Slash!
Flames wrapped around Malik's hammer, colliding with Varthos' blood energy in a fiery explosion. With his other hand, Malik drew his dagger and—
Corrosive Infernal Slash!
He vanished into stealth.
Critical Hit!
A savage wound tore across Varthos' back as his HP dropped to 20% in one devastating strike. But before Malik could follow up—
A dreadful aura erupted from Varthos.
Malik was blasted out of stealth.
"No... Berserk Mode…" Malik's voice trembled. He watched, horrified, as Varthos' form twisted into something monstrous. His muscles bulked unnaturally, claws sprouted from his hands, and the Bloodcleaver warped into a Greatsword brimming with demonic energy. His HP? Fully restored.
[System Warning: Varthos has entered Berserk Mode. Duration: 5 minutes.]
"Five minutes… I'm truly dead." Malik turned to flee, but before he could react—
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!
Five blood swipes slashed his back, sending him tumbling forward. He rolled and activated his agility boosts, surging to the left, dodging with every ounce of instinct.
But then—he heard it.
A deep, bone-chilling chuckle.
He spun too late. A bloody arc of light flew toward him at breakneck speed.
Boom!
The tyrannical strike engulfed him. Malik screamed as his HP was reduced to 1%, leaving him hanging by a thread between life and death.
Varthos loomed over him like a demon risen from the underworld. "Since you came here for information… I'll give you one truth. Something to take to the grave."
Malik was barely conscious, his vision flickering.
"He shall conquer. My new leader. He will fight and conquer Blackroot. Under his banner, I shall become powerful. Not just me… but all the upperclassmen in Blackroot. Our loyalty lies not with a blind ruler, but with vision. You've heard enough, Adventurer. Now die. After you, I'll bury your friend. And then everyone who dares stand beside you."
Varthos raised the Greatsword high, blood energy spinning wildly around it like a storm preparing to swallow the world.
Malik's eyes widened.
First fear.
Then anger.
Then—Rage.
Unforgivable.
This NPC… this monster dared to threaten his friends?
Unacceptable.
[Due to your rage, you've forcefully activated: Rage of the GoreBrinbare. All base stats doubled for 10 minutes.]
As the blade came crashing down, Malik moved.
Clank!
He caught the Greatsword with one hand.
Varthos' eyes went wide in disbelief.
"You… you've a berserk skill?" he muttered. A storm of dread swept over him as Malik rose from the ground, his body pulsing with divine fury.
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[Player: Man like Malik]
Class: Martial Expert
Tier: 1 | Level: 44
HP: 700,000/700,000
Attack: 4000 – 5000
Defense: 3000 – 4000
Status: Berserk (Rage of GoreBrinbare – 9:59)
Description: Due to the uncontainable rage of this Martial Expert, the berserk mode has been forcefully activated. Whosoever faces him… shall perish.
---
"Oh my God… I thought Boss was dead!"
"Is it just Boss? I thought we were all goners!"
"To think Boss had a berserk skill all along!"
"Player Man like Malik… I'm definitely uploading this footage!"
---
"So what if you've a berserk skill, huh?!" Varthos roared, fury rising. "You'll still die in my hands!"
He lunged.
But Malik disappeared. He had entered the state of stealth.
Boom!
Viscous Trampling!
Before he could realize himself, Malik reappeared in midair and stomped Varthos' face straight into the stone floor.
-200,000!!
The impact sent tremors rippling through the entire vault.
"You don't understand," Malik's voice was cold and absolute. "The situation is no longer the same."