Chapter 42: Add a Stroke of Misfortune to Your Battle!

[Dark Tide Priest Lv23]
[Description: A dark lifeform born in the highlands of shadow, possessing high intelligence and able to freely control the powers of darkness.]
[Skill One: Bone Summoning—can use the remains of dead creatures to summon obedient minions for combat.]
[Skill Two: Necroplague—fires a blast of black energy from the staff; while it does little physical harm, any living target struck will have its vitality drained.]
[Skill Three: Death’s Roar—uses the priest’s formidable mental strength to unleash a psychic attack; victims may collapse into confusion or even madness.]

In an instant, Wang Chen absorbed all the information bestowed by the Savage Beast’s Eye. After all, it appeared directly in his mind.

Wang Chen’s brow was tightly knit. This Dark Tide Priest was, unexpectedly, a gold-rank beast, and each of its skills was perilous in its own right.

Bone Summoning aside—the skeletal python it had conjured already caused him considerable trouble. But Necroplague and Death’s Roar, even from their descriptions, were deadly. Used together, they could reduce a man to a desiccated husk in moments. The priest would then peel off the shriveled flesh and summon it as a skeletal soldier—completing a vicious, self-sustaining cycle.

“Master, you’re wasted in this place! With your abilities, why not conquer the world? A duel with human champions would suit you far better!”

Hurriedly, Wang Chen drew out two magic scrolls and tore them open.

“Wildvine Guard—Silver Tier!”

From the ground at his feet, thick vines burst forth, encircling him in a protective embrace.

“Spring Surge Ward—Silver Tier!”

A shimmering veil of water flowed over the surface of the vines, rippling to form a second layer of defense.

“If the description is accurate, Necroplague doesn’t do much direct harm—its terror lies in draining life itself,” Wang Chen pondered.

To maintain visibility and keep a close eye on the Dark Tide Priest’s movements, he refrained from using earth magic scrolls. One layer of water protection felt insufficient, so he added a layer of wood magic inside it for extra security. That way, if Necroplague struck, it would drain the vines first. If each use of the skill targeted only one entity, Wang Chen would remain safe until the vines withered. He could also peer through the gaps in the vines to observe events outside.

At this moment, the Dark Tide Priest was still shackled by the Cang Thunder Bind, unable to break free. The golden-tier spell radiated the power expected of its rank. Though the priest thrashed and writhed, its grotesque face twisted beneath the black hood, and dark miasma streamed from its hands and feet to clash against the pale blue lightning.

But the continuous flow of thunder from the magical seal kept the lightning chains tight, showing no sign of slackening.

“Excellent—now I just need the Phoenix Spirit Powder to take effect,” Wang Chen thought, recalling the power of the gold-ranked scroll.

[Cang Thunder Bind]
[Description: Releases a chain of frenzied lightning to restrain the target and deliver sustained thunder strikes. The electric bonds may even attract true lightning from the heavens to smite the foe.]

Wang Chen had dusted the priest with butterfly powder to draw disaster down upon it, hoping the Cang Thunder Bind would successfully call forth heavenly lightning. In his hand, he clutched a [Earthstep Charm]—a scroll that would let him tunnel through the ground and emerge hundreds of meters away. This was his trump card should the battle turn against him.

But everything seemed to be going smoothly.

A furious roar burst from the Dark Tide Priest. Its bone staff flared with green light as it tried to summon skeletal creatures to aid its escape. But a surge of lightning from the blue-white chains struck its arm, interrupting the spell mid-cast.

The priest froze, incredulous that a caster of its skill could err so badly. Had its long isolation, spent transforming the Fountain of Vitality, dulled its magical prowess? Impossible!

Raging and unwilling to accept defeat, it steeled itself against the searing pain of the current and tried again, only for a perfectly timed lightning bolt to disrupt its casting once more.

Was the attacking human adjusting the spell’s output? The priest glanced at Wang Chen, tightly cocooned, and dismissed the thought. All human invaders here had their powers suppressed; none could wield such formidable magic unaided. So what was the cause?

The priest pondered in confusion.

Its black cloak had already disintegrated in the relentless storm—a loss, for it had been excellent protection. Now the wild flickers of blue-white lightning struck its flesh directly. As a spellcaster, its defenses were meager; within moments, its pale blue skin was scorched brown, filling the air with the stench of burnt flesh.

Once more, it tried to cast a spell.

“Bone Summoning!”

This time, it succeeded. At the priest’s feet, swarms of hand-sized skeletal creatures—shaped like rats—emerged. Fearless, they swarmed up their master’s body, shielding it from the worst of the lightning. One after another, the bone rats burned to ash, but more took their place. With little magical energy expended, the priest bought itself reprieve from the thunder. Its staff waved, preparing another spell.

Suddenly, a blinding bolt of lightning ripped through the sky, turning the gloomy heavens bright as day.

A deafening crash followed.

“It’s here!”

Wang Chen’s heart leapt.

Amid the crisscrossing thunderclouds, wild currents of electricity gathered. A red bolt struck a blue one, twisting together into a violet flash. Again and again, red and blue combined, forming more violet lightning. Several violet bolts then merged, condensing into a single, dense, dark purple beam.

In a blink, it crashed down upon the Dark Tide Priest, suffused with terrifying might.

The priest was consumed by the purple lightning. Every joint throbbed with electric agony; every vein roared with energy. The bone rats perished instantly, even the staff crackled with electricity, rendered useless for any further spellcasting.

“Is it dead?” Wang Chen anxiously awaited a sign.

The priest, face contorted with rage, glared at Wang Chen. If it must die, it would drag this hateful human with it!

With a shriek, it opened its mouth and unleashed a torrent of sound—waves upon waves, rising and falling like the tides.

Xu Yong, hearing the roar, felt as if he’d been punched in the eyes; his vision swam, and he collapsed in a faint.

Wang Chen tore strips of cloth and stuffed them in his ears, gritting his teeth to withstand the assault. Yet the tidal roar battered his mind, threatening to swallow him whole at any moment.