Chapter 689 The Gamble...Success or Failure?!
If I use Life Burn, I could deal with it. I'd have the same power or higher and with my full kit, I could end this quickly.
The thought came and went in an instant, and he crushed it just as fast.
But I can't. I've barely recovered. Stacey was clear about the cooldown, about the cumulative channel damage. I made that mistake once and it nearly ruined me. If I make it again this soon, the consequences could be irreversible in worst case scenario. In best case, my recovery would cost billions and would take months...perhaps years.
Life Burn was off the table. That meant he had to work with what he had, and what he had, right now, in this moment, was a single clean shot at a distracted target.
He watched in silence.
The cicada sang, unaware of the mantis behind it. The mantis crept forward, unaware of the oriole above. Every predator on this battlefield believed itself the hunter, and none of them looked over its own shoulder.
The northern commander had just devoured a True Elf's heart and ascended, believing itself the apex of everything in the wasteland. It never once considered that something smaller and more dangerous than any beast here had been watching it the whole time.
The injured blade master lay in the snow, its body studded with arrows, its blood spreading black across the white, seconds way from death at the hands of its rival.
The northern commander looked down at it, but didn't bother with a killing blow.
There was no need. The swordsman was already gone, its life bleeding out on its own. The archer muttered something, a final word for a rival it had outgrown, and turned away.
As it began to move from the corpse, its back to Moon, its attention entirely elsewhere, Moon took his chance.
Now.
His mana flared for a single heartbeat.
Ice formed inside the arrow, threading through its structure, integrating at the physical level, the element becoming part of the arrow rather than a coating on its surface. Within a second, the arrow was ready, the arrow emitting a cold breeze.
Moon let his finger off, letting the arrow loose as it charged across the battlefield with a trailing streak of cold white, flying at insane speed, carrying the full force of its assimilated element from release towards the unsuspecting target.
Elsa's eyes went wide, and an involuntary gasp escaped her mouth.
That technique. He used assimilation!
She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Assimilation wasn't something you learned by drilling your archery. It couldn't be practiced like your form or improved through repetition. It couldn't be raised with attribute points like strength or speed. It was one of the hardest core skills of a unique class, an innate understanding and matter that most fighters could never touch no matter how many decades they trained. The idea of learning it was, for everyone, simply impossible.
And yet, in front of her eyes, Moon had just done it. Loosed an assimilated arrow like it was nothing, like it was any ordinary shot.
She could see it wasn't as refined as her own, the integration shallower, but it was assimilation nonetheless.
She simply couldn't believe it.
The archer felt the arrow when it was fifty meters out.
Its head snapped toward the incoming cold-white streak, and its instincts fired instantly, its hand darting to its bow to loose a counter-shot and knock the projectile from the air.
~Whoosh~
Its own arrow left the string, but it was a fraction too late. Moon's shot had crossed the distance while the archer was still turning, and there wasn't enough time to intercept it.
The assimilated arrow struck the blade master in the head.
It punched through without resistance, the assimilated ice detonating on impact, freezing the wound and the flesh around it in a spreading bloom of white frost. The archer's counter-arrow flew wide into the empty snow.
The southern commander's eyes went limp.
Multiple notifications flashed across Moon's vision confirming the kill.
[You have killed a Level 62 B-Rank Lesser Elf]
[You have gained 15,255 Lives]
Moon barely read the Lives. His eyes were already on the last notification.
[You have gained Beast Soul: A-Rank Lesser Elf]
He pulled the detail up in a heartbeat.
[Beast Soul: Lesser Elf]
[Rank: B] [Evolve]
[Potential: A]
[Details: Summon a powerful blademaster of the Lesser Elf race. The summoned blademaster is highly competent in dual-wielding and possesses an advanced degree of skill with the sword. The Spirit is loyal to its owner and is subject to injury and death.]
The dead swordsman commander, the one the archer had just killed, had left behind its soul as a summonable spirit. And with the Evolve tag on it, its potential ran to A-Rank, which meant the elf could become a Surpasser level beast soul in the future.
The team stared at Moon in pure shock, none of them were able to see the notifications flashing across his vision, none of them understanding what he'd just gained from the kill besides experience and lives.
"What have you done?" Vela shouted, no longer bothering to stay hidden.
There was no point in hiding anymore. The moment Moon's arrow struck, the northern commander's head had turned toward them, and it had found them. It stood across the battlefield now, looking directly at the seven of them, a massive grin spreading across its face.
It didn't care in the slightest that Moon had killed its rival. In its mind, the swordsman had been dead the moment it swallowed the heart. Moon had simply saved it the trouble of the final blow. What interested the archer now was the seven new creatures that had revealed themselves, the ones who had been hiding in its wasteland this whole time.
The team panicked.
"Your ego is going to get us all killed!" Kayn snarled, rounding on Moon. "You missed the shot, or were you just farming the kill? The lives, the experience, you took a pot shot for yourself and now that thing knows exactly where we are! You bastard, you've doomed us!"