Hyper-Dimensional Player

Chapter 963: Chapter 18:

He had once fought with orc warriors, and it was the same kind of irresistible barbaric power.

Blood Mark Priest Velarys was once a Saint Paladin, also skilled in mounted combat, but later he acquired some priestly abilities. His nightmare steed let out a whinny and spewed a jet of black smoke and sparks. The expression of the enemy, covered by the helmet, did not change in the slightest; only the eyes narrowed slightly, as if a flash of bloody killing intent passed by.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Both sides exchanged several moves back and forth. The enemy’s riding combat skills slightly exceeded Velarys’ estimation. There was no time to think too much, and he immediately began to pray for the divine power of the goddess of torment.

——Divine Power!

——Divine Shield!

As a dull glow of divine power emerged, Velarys immediately used the ’Pain Amplification’ ability on the enemy in front of him, which could enhance the pain of the damage inflicted on the enemy. If an ordinary spellcaster’s will was not firm enough, even a slight scratch could interrupt their casting.

They also relied on this ability to strengthen their endurance, as it amplified the pain sensory.

But the enemy in front of Velarys did not waver in will in the slightest, ignoring everything entirely. As the silver spear swept across, Velarys attempted to block it with his spear, but suddenly a surge of great force threw him off balance, directly unseating him and his nightmare steed, which let out a wailing cry.

Giant’s Strength!

The enemy was well-prepared, not only blessed by divine techniques but likely took the Giant Power Potion and even outfitted with other curiosities to enhance strength.

A flash of blood.

Velarys’ nightmare steed was slain on the spot. With a clang, the enemy flung the silver spear, directly pinning a distant Painful Monk trying to cast a spell onto a tree trunk.

Crackle, sparks scattered, and the menacing enemy dismounted, drawing the gold-handled two-handed greatsword from his back.

Velarys rolled up to his feet, unwilling to believe that even with the divine power and divine shield, he could be defeated by this enemy. With a roar, he activated the divine grace bestowed by the goddess and launched himself upward with a forceful and heavy jump slash.

Clang!

His blood-stained longsword was blocked by the enemy. In the next second, the opponent kicked swiftly towards his groin. Velarys reacted quickly, dodging slightly, but soon his expression twisted. Even as a follower of the goddess of torment, he couldn’t help but tremble. If it hadn’t been for his slight maneuver, that iron boot might have left him crippled right there.

A sharp pain radiated from his knee.

No time to respond, the next second the enemy lunged forward with a bizarre technique, swatting his longsword aside. The blade glinted coldly as his right knee was shattered, and the opponent executed a maneuver similar to a ’Titan’s Grip,’ delivering a crushing blow with a gauntleted fist to his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground, jawbone deforming.

Swish!

A flash of blood, and the enemy spun around, severing Velarys’ right arm with precision.

"Protect Master Velarys!"

On both sides, the Painful Monks rallied around, all loyal to Velarys and members of the cult, intending to aid him and cover the retreat of this divine favored one.

But what followed was a bloody storm of limbs.

A Painful Monk on the right, wielding a flail, charged out, but the blood-drenched enemy didn’t even glance at him, slicing off his head with a backhanded sword stroke, then sidestepping half a step without turning, spinning into a tornado slash that cut the second Painful Monk in half at the waist.

Blood and guts spilled onto the ground.

A long whip lashed out, wrapping around the enemy’s right arm. With an expressionless tug, he yanked the wielder into range, smashing the whip user’s head with a reverse blow of the sword hilt, an eyeball bursting from its socket.

This golden-armored enemy slowly approached the severely injured Velarys, as a spell of burning flame descended, becoming a fiery serpent. The man hesitated for only a moment, flicking a warhammer up with a toe, flinging it with a deafening whoosh, shattering the head of a distant Painful Monk dozens of meters away.

Clang!

Splash.

The stranger finally stood before Velarys, stabbing backward to pierce a blood-marked follower’s chest, swinging a one-handed horizontal cut, severing half the attacker’s body, spilling innards, and simultaneously decapitating half the head of another assailant, exposing smooth brain matter.

Death, like the wind, mirrored in a sea of corpse mountain and blood seas.

A cut with each blow, swift and efficient without a hint of excess movement, relying not on dazzling combat techniques but on simple raw power.

He took seven steps towards Velarys, leaving behind the mangled corpses of twelve Painful Cultists.

Such combat strength!

Blood Mark Priest Velarys had never seen anything like it, not even the chief Paladin of the God of Justice, Tyr, held such terrifying combat skills.

Only an endless sea of corpses could forge such strength.

At that moment, he even thought he was facing a chosen one of the ’Three Gods of Death’!

Blood sacrifice to the Death God.

Skull offering to the throne.

Even Velarys’ own blood-marked cultists couldn’t force the enemy to take them seriously, cut down as effortlessly as slicing vegetables.

And even Velarys himself, at this moment, doubted how much strength the enemy had truly exerted.