Chapter Twenty-One: Believe in Miracles?

"You've trespassed into my domain. There is no turning back now. Be forever buried here, becoming the nourishment for my mineral veins!"

The voice brimmed with authority, an indescribable pressure enveloping the six. Their bodies trembled uncontrollably as the sound swept in from every direction, as if an invisible mountain weighed heavily upon them, making it hard to breathe.

A debuff descended upon them.

This debuff suppressed their momentum, forcibly diminishing any enhancements to their aura. Such a skill, often appearing at the climax of a dungeon or event, could instantly strip players of their momentum boosts, and even cause their attributes to gradually decline.

"How could this happen?"

Luo Feng's expression grew grave. According to the detailed walkthrough for this dungeon, the King of Nine Mountains wasn't supposed to possess such a skill. Why was he able to impose this debuff?

Even Nightfeather was puzzled. With this negative status in play, facing the King of Nine Mountains would now be a daunting challenge.

They glanced at the surrounding statues of soldiers, each weapon gleaming brilliantly, their shimmering surfaces radiating an extreme sharpness. Beneath this piercing aura, even Nightfeather felt a bone-chilling cold seep into his heart.

At that moment, a middle-aged man clad in luxurious royal robes gradually materialized in the void. His face bore the marks of time, but his eyes seemed to contain all things, enigmatic and unfathomable.

"You call yourselves chivalrous heroes—can you tell me what righteousness is? When my kingdom faced catastrophe, was there any hero willing to lend a hand? Had I not harnessed the power of the mineral veins, even more of my people would have perished. Now, tainted by foul energies, they wander as undead puppets. Heaven sought to destroy my kingdom, but I alone preserved it."

A self-deprecating smile twisted the King's lips. His expression was savage, bordering on madness. Though his words were restrained, his ferocious demeanor left the six imagining what the earlier guides meant by a wise ruler. Now, the King of Nine Mountains was little more than a deranged tyrant, cruel and devoid of humanity.

"The King of Nine Mountains is immune to slowing and entanglement effects. If we want to win, we must fight a guerrilla battle. Given our current state, there’s no other way. But our formation—"

Nightfeather's lips curled into a confident smile, his dark eyes shining. "Just happens to counter his formation perfectly!"

At those words, memories stirred within the group. Where once their faces showed dejection, now fiery excitement replaced it.

About five minutes later, the King of Nine Mountains strode toward the six, emanating a dominating aura. In his hand was a golden crystal sword, his shoulders adorned with feathers, and his flowing crown crafted in feathered patterns. The look was not only imposing, but also radiated a regal presence.

The aura of a true king.

As he approached, a pitch-black energy surged from his body, swirling like a torrential river. Behind him appeared a monstrous demonic visage, its eyes glowing red. In that instant, the King's own eyes turned blood-red, the scent of blood billowing from within him.

His name materialized above his head: King of Nine Mountains, Level 45. As the six saw the level, their excitement faltered. This dungeon was notoriously difficult; had Nightfeather not prepared everything, facing this boss would be a nightmare.

Next, the King spoke: "Stay here and keep me company. With the power I’ve gained, my kingdom will rise again. The imperial dynasty has waned, the martial world is in chaos, factions springing up everywhere. I shall seize the opportunity and display my strength."

His voice grew hoarse and aged, yet within it was an unwavering determination, as if nothing could shake him. Then, with a single step, he blurred into motion, leaving afterimages in his wake.

The King’s speed far surpassed the previous two bosses. With such attributes, his power was formidable. In his first attack, the golden crystal sword erupted with dazzling brilliance, sword shadows flying in chaotic arcs and then converging into a circular blast.

"Mountain Sword Feathers!"

Nightfeather and his companions rode their Abyssal Nightmares, their enhanced mobility allowing them to nimbly evade the barrage. Thanks to Nightfeather’s meticulous calculations, he’d mapped out the boss’s first attack trajectory, identifying a flaw they exploited to dodge the assault unscathed.

"Impressive. I haven’t underestimated you,"

The King praised them, a hint of appreciation in his gaze as he looked at Nightfeather’s group.

Had anyone been hit, his response would have changed. This was an intelligent mechanic designed by Shenshang, offering different outcomes and rewards depending on performance. Perfect completion would maximize the rewards, a rare opportunity for players striving to level up in the new server. Yet achieving it was no easy feat.

The earlier bosses had already been rated as perfect clears; if they could do the same against the final boss, the dungeon would be marked as perfectly completed, the time recorded and displayed atop the leaderboard, never to be surpassed.

As Nightfeather’s group was the first to attempt this dungeon, Shenshang would ensure the record was fair; whoever first entered and perfectly cleared the dungeon would be immortalized as the top team for this instance.

The King then swept his sword horizontally, unleashing a terrifying sword energy that sliced through the air. The rupture was so precise, it resembled a sheet of glass neatly cut by an invisible force.

The six’s pupils contracted sharply; the sword light streaked toward them so swiftly, there was barely time to react.

Overdrive Mode!

All but Nightfeather simultaneously activated their Overdrive Mode to dodge the attack—there was simply no other way.

"Third Brother!"

"Night!"

The five looked at Nightfeather in shock, remembering he’d already used Overdrive Mode against the previous boss, so its cooldown wasn’t over. The sword light was almost upon him.

"Do you believe in miracles?"

Nightfeather’s voice echoed in their ears. The five flipped backward, narrowly avoiding the sweep. Their gazes locked onto Nightfeather.

His movements were flawless; a backward somersault followed by a swift retreat, his toes barely brushing the ground as he slid away. He dropped slightly, and the sword light swept past, missing him by less than an inch.

A miracle happened—Nightfeather, without activating Overdrive Mode, evaded a lethal blow.

Steadying himself, Nightfeather drew his ancient zither. His slender fingers radiated a soft violet glow, swirling with intense energy as he plucked the strings.

"Wind Through the Pines!"

A violet whirlwind shot forth, sharp as a barbed arrow, piercing the void and striking the King. With a soft sound, the boss’s health dropped by 10—an actual reduction to his maximum health.

"Wow, his max HP dropped by 10? That’ll save us so much effort!"

Wind Through the Pines was a skill acquired before advancing to the stringmaster class, inflicting damage that pierced through HP and reduced the target’s maximum health.

The King, however, lunged forward, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. Only two meters separated him and Nightfeather as the golden sword, swirling with black energy, transformed into a sword light aimed directly at Nightfeather’s heart.

Nightfeather’s gaze showed no trace of despair; he even signaled the other five to attack.

Trusting him, the five unleashed their skills, even Luo Feng refrained from healing—Nightfeather needed none. Luo Feng had known Nightfeather long enough to understand: if Nightfeather was confident, nothing could shake him, and the events that followed proved this.

Believe in miracles?