Free Web NovelChapter 1545: Chapter 943: Izaris Witch
It is often said that any creature with high intelligence will experience emotions called "expectation."
Expectation of what will happen tomorrow, expectation of the harvest in the field, expectation of the rewards inside the treasure chest, and expectation of what the boss monster beyond the fog gate will look like.
With curiosity about the true visage of the Izalith Witch. Temude and the warriors swarmed into the fog gate.
As their bodies broke through the mist, a wave of music resonated in their ears, which was a classic tradition of Sain Dungeon—before a great battle, BGM would inevitably appear.
However, why does this BGM feel somewhat different this time?
In the past, whether it was the Fran Undead Team, the Deep Bishop Group, or Overlord Vonier, the music of the boss monsters always carried a sense of decay that matched them, and most were expressed in orchestral form, giving a grand yet desolate feeling.
But this time the music was uniquely different, it...
Surprisingly wasn’t orchestral, but rather a tranquil and stable melody, giving the feeling of an elderly bard singing coarsely by the fireplace in a tavern, rough yet full of emotion, with the gentle music fitting the mood perfectly. ƒreewebɳovel.com
Even though there was no vocal chorus, for some reason, the warriors inexplicably heard a feeling of urgency from it, uh, a sense of hurrying through wind and rain?
As if they were about to run three hundred and sixty-five miles.
Clearly it wasn’t music that made one’s blood boil, but it oddly matched their mood along the journey very well!
The journey from the Demon Relics to the fog gate was already enough to drain an ordinary person’s stamina, even these powerful warriors had to exhaust themselves battling various monsters, only to find no nearby bonfire when they finally reached the fog gate, forcing them into battle, with failure meaning they must start over, this pressure weighed heavily on everyone.
Thus, the warriors began to empathize with this melody.
"This is a song for warriors."
Temude couldn’t help but comment:
"The melody reveals the will to never give up and forge ahead despite the arduous journey, it’s spurring us forward, everyone, charge!"
"Oh!!!" The crowd was also motivated by his words, shouting in unison.
"I... is the meaning of this song really what he says?"
In the city lord’s room, spying through the crystal ball, Gong Qiying voiced a sound full of doubt.
What he was playing now was "365 Miles" (instrumental version).
"Forget it, soon they’ll understand the true meaning."
At this moment, the warriors broke through the fog gate’s blockade, finally rushing inside. freeωebnovēl.c૦m
To the astonishment of everyone, behind the fog gate awaited not a vast battleground and the Izalith Witch, but a steep slope extending downward to a doorway, the road littered with twisted tree branches standing across.
As soon as they stepped onto the downward sloped road, they slipped underneath as if their feet slid downwards, and some who hadn’t reacted even fell to the ground, sliding out like penguins.
"The ground has been enchanted with a spell that makes it unstable, everyone be careful!"
Fifteen warriors struggled to keep their bodies steady as they slid downwards.
Circles of fire fluctuations began to appear on the ground, and the next moment, pillars of fire thicker than a person erupted from the waves, forcing them to control their sliding direction to avoid crashing into them, as the temperature of these flames was higher than the lava outside, crashing into them was no joke.
The branches along the way were exceptionally hard, and although they could be smashed by charging with all their might, it often further disrupted their balance, and each time they shattered a branch, flames were sure to await them ahead.
After finally exerting all their effort to slide to the finish line, leaping from the uneven ending to a particularly spacious and open circular area, everyone let out a long breath, exchanging glances with each other—not one without scorched hair or a face blackened by soot, and even the red hair on the Red Lion Helmet of one was completely burned away.
"It was just a sliding path..."
"Why do I feel so drained?"
"Feels like the soles of my shoes were worn down by a centimeter."
The entire journey totaled no more than three minutes, yet left them physically and mentally exhausted, and even the spirited ambition from rushing through the fog gate was inevitably diminished, with everyone’s appearance becoming ragged from the flame scorching and branch crashing.
It was at this moment that the music echoing in their ears suddenly changed.
From the minor notes of "365 Miles" it shifted to pure Sain-styled music, dark and deep, the flavor indicated facing formidable foes imminently.
Firelight illuminated their faces, accompanied by intense heat assaulting them, was a powerful feeling of oppression, the music suddenly filled with the chaotic sound of dry branches twisting, like a giant, woodenized tentacle monster stretching its body freely, all tentacles surrounding them from all directions.
The sense of oppression was suffocating!
Just from listening to the sound, they could imagine a monster massive enough to envelop the entire circular area gathering everyone within its embrace, preparing to tighten its tentacles and tear them apart.
