Reincarnated Avatar; I got 2 SSS-Rank Unique Skills
Chapter 192: Holiday [4]

Chapter 192: Holiday [4]

"I don’t like this," Genevieve muttered. "I think something’s watching".

Genevieve barely finished saying this when the situation changed.

’It can’t be that cliché, right?’ Noah was stunned.

But yes, it was. The statues turned.

And then, from every alcove, the Preachers of Silence stepped forward; ghostly monks with no mouths, wielding censers that dripped with shadowflame. No battle cry, no warning, rather just instant chaos.

BZZZ!

Flames surged. But they barely did when Aria vanished, already blurring into action to intercept the closest Priests.

Benjamin’s staff spun as he erected barriers, shielding half the team.

At the same time, Dain Ironvalor also already moved as with a bellow, his great shield crashed into the first Preacher with divine fury.

As for Noah? In his grasp, Aetherforge whistled through the air, the SSS-Rank weapon shattering a statue mid-incantation.

Motionless statues that were seemingly harmless suddenly moving, turning out to be the enemies, this was the oldest of cliché in video games. And yet, that was exactly what happened in this SSS-Rank dungeon raid. So, all the participants in the dungeon raid knew the right move to make immediately.

Even if it wasn’t such a cliché, every single one of them were pro players or were once pro players. Their reflexes in-game were unmatched.

This was why they erupted, moving at the same time and dealing with the situation that should have been an obliterating disaster against any other team.

None of them suffered any damage from the ambush, not to talk of dying.

And they were already adjusting to better react to the situation.

"Pull left! Left flank is collapsing!" Jonathan shouted, Crimson Saint moving while hurling knives, an Assassin skill as the darkness pressed in.

But it wasn’t the monks that scared them, they were able to deal with the monks. Afterall, they were dungeon monsters like they were used too.

What scared them though was the prayers. A crazy algorithm of the SSS-Rank dungeon; a whisper threading through their minds, growing louder.

"Aetheryos is watching".

"Your sins are not forgiven".

"Repent. Repent. Repent".

Players began to falter, literally because their user interface began to glitch.

Caleb cursed and rewrote his summon scripts mid-fight simply because the meaning of specific keyboard inputs were influenced, overturned, reversed, some even outright deleted by the user interface glitch.

And it was not just that, it was even deeper, more insidious and deadly. Two old-timers got mind-fractured by the psychic barrage and their Avatars logged off mid-raid!

A dungeon that force-logs an Avatar out of the game..., well, that one was surely a first in the experience of these Warstar veterans.

There was no second chance for them though because by logging out mid-raid, they quit this specific lobby, making it impossible for them to rejoin the team in the future.

Despite all these, the players were not rattled though. This was because they knew that no matter how broken the hazards in a dungeon is, Warstar is always fair. There must be something to escape this situation.

Noah narrowed his eyes. "Turn your log out speed setting to lowest".

After that, he looked ahead, at a peculiar pulpit chamber where a choir of Wailing Vestals chanted. Then, he growled. "Shut them up".

With a war cry, he led the charge into the pulpit chamber. Each one floated, veiled in divine light that burned with a false holiness.

Aria struck from the shadows, cutting through three in an instant. Genevieve’s aura surged, countering the mental fog.

"Equip any resistance-increasing item if you have one," Genevieve whispered, casting a mass cleanse and exorcism.

With it, the insidious influence of the whispers reduced.

The fight ended in thunder and silence.

One last Vestal opened her eyes and screamed. Then there was nothing..., silence again.

The party regrouped, breathing hard. No one smiled. Not yet.

Yes, they were a group of oldies and talented youngsters with heads filled with lots of jokes, but at this point, they didn’t indulge themselves too much.

Experience told them not to linger in profligacy too much while raiding a dungeon. Besides, this was an SSS-Rank 20-man dungeon.

All these were minor reasons though, the real reason why they didn’t smile was because the path forward had opened, and on the marble stairway ahead was the shadow of a man not yet dead, holding a bell that rang soundlessly.

They could see it ringing, they could feel it, and yet they didn’t hear it.

The Herald of Oblivion waited.

The towering figure ahead, draped in tattered vestments of forgotten royalty loomed over the party like a monument of death.

His bell, a twisted relic of rusted brass and tarnished gold hung at his side, untouched by the air around it; silent but not still. There was a weight to the silence that stretched on, a quiet that almost felt tangible, as though the very world was holding its breath.

Noah’s hand tightened on the hilt of his battle lance, eyes narrowing as he assessed the figure.

"His aura," Caleb whispered, eyes flicking between the bell and the Herald. "It’s not just holy, it’s... wrong".

The Herald of Oblivion stepped forward with unnerving grace, his presence not so much felt as it was absorbed by the room.

The shadows that clung to the walls of the monastery seemed to stretch toward him, drawn to the ancient energy radiating from his very being.

His eyes were hollow, empty sockets framed by a gaunt face, not dead, but something far worse... forgotten.

The soundless bell in his hand shook slightly, vibrating the air.

And then, a voice that could not have come from human lips rose, resonating directly in their minds, echoing the unsung melodies of centuries.

"You seek to awaken the silence. You will be the last to hear it".

Benjamin chuckled nervously as he looked around, uneasy. "Did anyone else hear that...?"

On getting no response, he cursed. "These damned developers, they just had to make it so creepy huh?!"

Noah nodded. "That’s no ordinary boss. He’s not just a fighter, he’s an enigma. A being trapped between realms, between life and death".

"It’s connection to life will likely mean it’s HP will be borderline ridiculous. As for its connection to death?"

Noah sighed. "I guess... let’s just be wary against being injured by him".

The Herald of Oblivion raised his bell, and with a move, the very air cracked.

Suddenly, every shadow in the room swirled, forming faces. They weren’t human. They were souls, but not of the living; whispering, agonized spirits that clawed at the players’ minds, attempting to drag them into the void.

"Fight it!" Genevieve’s voice cut through the chaos, the radiant light of her divine aura pushing the shadows back as best as she could. "Focus on the Herald, ignore the rest".

But it was too late. The first toll of the bell reverberated in the hearts of the team, a mental attack.

BZZZ!

A mental shockwave rippled through them. Every player felt the cold grip of Oblivion tightening around their minds. The world seemed to fade, blurring and warping.

"Noah! It’s... it’s a debuff!" Jonathan shouted as he shook his head. His face twisted in confusion and pain. "We need to focus! Don’t let the silence take us!"

Then, the second tall came...

BZZZ!

...a vibration so deep it rattled their bones.

Noah felt it first; a suffocating pressure in his chest, like an overwhelming weight pressing against his heart. His vision narrowed, the world distorting as his surroundings grew darker, quieter.

The fear of forgetting, of fading into nothingness, it all clawed at his soul.

’Ah... I hate this!’ Noah groaned in frustration as he noticed his Avatar glitch under the influence of the intense debuff.

His mind flickered to the memories of his time in the game, in the English Pro Alliance. The faces of his teammates, the moments of victory and joy, of camaraderie. All of it threatened to slip away.

"Shit," Noah gritted his teeth, fighting to retain his thoughts. He raised his lance high, channeling the last of his will to push against the oppressive pressure. "Stay focused! We fight for each other!"

It seemed emotional, intense, but then...

"Can you just shut up and fight?"

"..."

Noah could not retort. ’Bastard’.

Boom!

The reverberation was a physical blow, and for a moment, everything was quiet. The Herald of Oblivion swung the bell once more, but this time, he did not need to speak. A wave of raw dark energy blasted forth, sending the players skidding back.

"Now!" Noah roared.

In that instant, Aria was already in motion, her blades flashing as she launcher herself at the Herald.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Her strikes were faster than the eye could follow.

But as she approached, she realized something critical; the figure before her wasn’t as corporeal as it appeared. With every slash, her blade cut through nothingness, but a ripple of distortion followed, marking the first true sign of vulnerability in the Herald’s form.

"He’s not real! Not yet!" Aria screamed as she retreated, realizing the deception.

Caleb shouted from the back, his Summoner hands dancing in the air as he conjured a storm of arcane wards to shield the group from the energy pulses. "He’s just a projection! A fragment of something more powerful!"

Hearing these words, none of them panicked though.

They remained totally calm, their eyes flickering with intelligence, rapidly recalculating the situation and their odds of victory.

But then, Benjamin grinned. "He’s not what he appears, and neither are we!" He laughed crazily, smirking.

"Time to show him the power of real magic!"