Overgeared: Saharan Successor

Chapter 66: The Goblin Slayer (I)

"You think you can intimidate me, human?" the chieftain snarled, gripping his massive axe tightly, though the faintest hesitation in his stance betrayed that even he could feel the weight of Odin's dominance.

Odin's crimson eyes glinted dangerously, his voice calm but commanding. "I don't need to intimidate you. I just need you to understand—your miserable existence ends here."

The atmosphere in the hall grew heavier as Ragnar Ironclaw, chieftain of the Black Wolves tribe, leaned back into his massive stone throne. 

The jagged seat, carved from black granite and decorated with crude iron spikes, was an intimidating display of his dominance. Torchlight flickered across his scarred, gray skin, and his gleaming red eyes narrowed in disdain. The chieftain's lips curled into a wicked grin, exposing sharp, yellowed teeth.

"You dare enter my domain and challenge me, human?" Ragnar rumbled, a deep, guttural growl that echoed through the chamber. "Let's see if your blood is as arrogant as your words."

Without rising, he gestured lazily with one clawed hand, his tone dismissive. "Crush them. Leave nothing but bones for the rats to gnaw."

The Hobgoblin Mini-Bosses, towering brutes clad in crude iron armor and mixed among them were some smaller, slimmer goblins with leather armor. At the same time, the only one who appeared to be the caster was draped in tattered crimson robes that barely concealed his sinewy frame, he carried an aura of raw malice. 

His staff, crafted from twisted, blackened wood, was adorned with small bones and a single glowing crystal embedded at its head, which pulsed faintly like a dying ember.

Their beady eyes gleamed maliciously, and their twisted smiles revealed rows of uneven, needle-like teeth. 

[Zarlok the Flamescourge - LV.140](Mini-Boss) (85,000/85,000 HP)

Among the advancing horde stood Zarlok the Flamescourge, a hulking hobgoblin whose presence demanded attention. His crimson-robed form bristled with dark energy as he raised his twisted staff, its charred wood adorned with the skull of some unknown beast. His eyes burned with malice as he focused on Odin.

Zarlok's pale, sickly-green skin was crisscrossed with scars from failed experiments in the magical arts, and his beady eyes burned with malevolent intelligence. A jagged grin spread across his face as he raised his staff, his sharp, uneven teeth glinting in the firelight.

"Burn, intruder," Zarlok growled, his deep voice resonating with contempt. He began to chant in a guttural, arcane tongue, the words summoning fire from the ether. 

A glowing orb of flame materialized above his staff, its heat distorting the air. The fireball grew rapidly, crackling with intense energy and casting flickering shadows on the stone walls.

"Incinerate him!" Zarlok roared as he thrust his staff forward, sending the blazing sphere hurtling toward Odin with devastating speed.

As the fireball left his staff and soared toward Odin, Zarlok's twisted grin widened with cruel satisfaction. 

The heat from his spell radiated throughout the chamber, causing nearby torches to flicker and dim in their fiery brilliance. Watching his ultimate attack race toward its target, Zarlok sneered, his rasping voice laced with arrogance.

'Oho, his casting speed is not bad. What do you think, Braham? Will this vermin cause me any trouble?'

[That fireball is so pitiful and insignificant. Even after hundreds of years, this lesser species doesn't deserve the gift of mana and is just leeching like the Gods from the World's Soul.]

'Then, I guess I should kill the Caster first to make my life easier.'

Odin watched the fireball forming with his crimson eyes, not giving any emotions, and seconds later, his attention was attracted by another creature who made a subtle move that some casual player wouldn't be able to perceive.

From the shadows, Yorga the Beastmaster, another of the six Mini-bosses Hobgoblins, grinned wickedly as he observed Zarlok begin this fight using his ultimate spell, his Fireball. His wiry frame was adorned with pelts of beasts he had hunted, and his sharp eyes gleamed with predatory cunning.

To increase the hit chance of his comrade, he activated his ability. 

"Let's pin the human down like the prey he is," Yorga muttered, kneeling to activate a trap he had hidden around the Chief's Hall for such occasions.

His clawed fingers worked with practiced speed, setting the mechanism and muttering an incantation. Moments later, the ground beneath Odin rippled unnaturally, and thick, thorny vines erupted upward, their jagged edges wrapping around Odin's legs and torso.

"Hah! Let's see you wriggle your way out of that, whelp!" Yorga sneered, his laughter echoing through the hall.

[Yorga the Beastmaster has activated Snare Trap!]

[Your movement is restricted for 5 seconds. Escape is impossible unless you possess skills or abilities that remove crowd-control effects.]

'This type of CC is annoying since the Legendary Status doesn't make me immune. It's mainly states of fear, confusion, and curses that are useless to me.'

'Still, their attempt is so two-dimensional that it is not enjoyable. But hey, better not get complacent and get killed with all of the Mini-Bosses and the Boss jumping on me or Malfurion.'

'I might be fine, but Malfurion is wiped instantly.'

As the thorny vines tightened around Odin, pinning him in place, Malfurion's voice rang out, tinged with panic.

"Odin! You're stuck! That fireball—should I use my defensive cooldowns on you? Or—or maybe I can draw its aggro!"

He clutched his staff tightly, his hands trembling slightly as he scanned the room full of Boss monsters for a solution. "If you go down, we're doomed! Just say the word, and I'll—"

Odin's calm voice cut through Malfurion's rising panic like a blade. "It's fine, Malfurion. Don't waste your resources. This is nothing."

Malfurion blinked in disbelief, his frantic breathing slowing as he took in Odin's composed demeanor. "Nothing? You can't just—"

"Shut up and watch."

Despite the roots tightening around his legs, Odin remained unfazed, his crimson eyes narrowing as the fireball streaked toward him. The fireball shot toward him, its searing heat threatening anyone unprotected. 

He watched the caster's arrogant expression as if his Fireball would for sure vaporize him. Still, then he decided to test another of his Blessings that he rarely used because the situation didn't call for its usage.

'Blessing of Water'

[You have consumed 25 RE. The user has received the 'Aqua's Veil' Buff.]

[For the duration of 5 minutes, the user gains 100% fire resistance to physical attacks and magic spells. The user also gains an 80% Evasion Rate, followed by a 10% chance for attacks to deal double-hits. Melee attacks will be imbued with Water Elemental, thus dealing water-based attacks on physical strikes.]

A shimmering cascade of water erupted from Odin's form, swirling into a protective veil that danced like living liquid. Its surface gleamed like liquid crystal, glinting with the icy hues of his already-active Frost Armor. 

The two defenses merged seamlessly, the water freezing at the edges into intricate ice fractals. The frosty mist rolling off the veil created an impenetrable cold, starkly contrasting the fiery projectile hurtling toward him.

As the fireball made contact, the hall was momentarily illuminated in a blaze of orange light. 

[You have resisted Zarlok the Flamescourge's Fireball Spell]

"Reduced to cinders in mere moments—just as all your kind should be!" he hissed, his confidence swelling as the fireball neared its mark. "Struggle all you like, human. The flames of the Flamescourge consume everything!"

His shrill and triumphant laughter echoed off the chamber's walls as he prepared to relish the sight of his enemy engulfed in fire. 

A deafening hiss followed, steam exploding outward as the fireball was extinguished instantly upon colliding with the Aqua Veil. 

Not a single scorch mark marred Odin's armor, the frost glistening as if mocking Zarlok's efforts.

"Is that all?" Odin asked coldly, his voice cutting through the lingering steam like a blade. His lips curled into a smirk as he glanced down at the thorny vines binding his legs.

"Holding me in place won't make you any less pathetic," he said, his tone laced with disdain. 

A faint shiver ran through the vines as they froze solid, a side effect of his frost-infused presence. He broke free with a simple flex of his legs, the frozen restraints shattering into brittle shar

Zarlok staggered back in disbelief, his staff trembling in his grasp. "No! Impossible! You should be ashes by now!"

Yorga, watching his snare trap fail so effortlessly, growled in frustration. "This human is no ordinary prey," he muttered, his earlier confidence replaced by grim determination.

Malfurion, standing just behind Odin, exhaled in awe. "By the gods, Odin, you barely moved! What is this defensive cooldown? It's normal for users to 'Resist' bosses spells?"

Odin glanced at him briefly. "Stay focused, Malfurion. This is just the warm-up."

Malfurion swallowed hard, his trust in Odin's abilities overriding his fear. "Right... just the warm-up, huh? Got it."

'Magic Missiles'

[User has consumed 400 MP]

Raising his hand, Odin's fingertips crackled with arcane energy, forming two blazing, crimson missiles that hummed with power. 

He directed them with a flick of his wrist, their paths intertwining in an intricate dance before streaking toward Zarlok. The goblin shaman's face twisted into a sneer.

"Is that all, human? Can a simple spell break me? I am Zarlok the Flamescourge!"

The Magic Missiles streaked forward like twin bolts of vengeance, carving through the air with devastating precision.

Zarlok raised his staff, muttering a harsh incantation. A shimmering, translucent energy barrier enveloped him, glowing faintly with the mana drawn from his reserves.

[Zarlok the Flamescourge has activated 'Mana Shield']

"Let's see your puny spells break through this!" Zarlok spat, his confidence swelling as he watched the missiles approach.

[Whose this inspect calling my perfect Magic Missile as 'puny spell'. Not even the Gods would look down on my craft. Kill this vermin, Odin.]

'On it, Braham. If you want to get some entertainment, act as my fighting guide to make this end faster so we can get out from this dump.'

The first missile struck the Mana Shield with a deafening crack, splintering it like glass. Zarlok's eyes widened in disbelief.

[Critical Hit!]

[You have dealt 15,350 damage to the target.]

"No! My shield—" he stammered, but the second missile slammed into him with unrelenting force before he could finish. 

The impact sent him reeling, clutching at his chest as arcs of residual arcane energy danced across his form.

[You have dealt 7,280 damage to the target.]

"Pathetic," Odin muttered, lowering his hand. "Your arrogance blinds you, goblin. Learn your place, scum."

From the shadows, Dranok grinned maliciously, his poisoned dagger glinting in the dim light. 

"Your confidence will be your undoing," he jeered, fading into the shadows with the whisper of his skill. 

Instantly, he reappeared behind Odin, his dagger poised to strike.

With a fluid motion, Dranok lunged, the venomous blade arcing toward Odin's exposed back. "Let's see how you like the bite of my blade!"

Such sneak attacks have stopped working on Odin since acquiring his Sovereign Insight. Maybe only the skills of a being that had reached a Legendary Status just like him and beyond could sneak on him and void his insight. 

Sensing the sudden shift in the air, Odin's crimson eyes narrowed, his instincts sharper than any blade. 

Without turning to meet the assassin, he extended his arms in a horizontal position with the palm facing Dranok, who was about to launch his laughter but then felt the surge of mana coming from Odin's body.

"Arcane Explosion," Odin said calmly, the words imbued with unyielding authority.

[User has consumed 800 MP]

A pulse of red-violet energy erupted from him, expanding outward in a blinding flash. The energy struck everything within a 15-meter radius, detonating with a force that knocked Dranok, Zarlok, and Yorga off their feet. 

Their screams mingled with the sound of shattering debris as the explosion's shockwave rippled through the chamber.

[Critical Hit!]

[You have dealt 24,898 damage to the targets.]

As the initial blast subsided, smaller bursts of arcane energy erupted in succession. This was the Arcane Aftershock. These cascading detonations struck the already-staggered enemies with unrelenting force, targeting their exposed defenses.

[You have dealt 4,875 damage to the targets.]

Dranok clutched his chest, his dagger falling from his grasp. "How? That... that shouldn't be possible! Instant Casting?" he gasped, his voice rasping with pain.

Zarlok struggled to his knees, his once-arrogant expression replaced by panic. "No! I recognize that spell. It's clearly an Arcane Explosion. How can it possibly break my Mana Shield??" 

"You're just a human! You can't wield power like this!"

Yorga snarled through gritted teeth, his beastmaster instincts screaming for him to retreat. "What is this monster?"

From the shadowed recess of the chamber, Ragnar sat imperiously on his makeshift throne, his posture one of casual disdain as though the chaos unfolding before him were beneath his notice. 

"An explosion like that?" Ragnar's voice dripped with scorn. "Hardly worth moving for."

On the other hand, Gorath, the towering warrior hobgoblin clad in blackened plate armor, roared as the wave of arcane energy surged toward him and Ragnar. His instincts flared, and he slammed his massive tower shield into the ground, activating 'Shield Wall'.

[Gorath the Shieldbearer - LV.140](Mini-Boss) (145,000/145,000 HP)

 "I'll handle this!"

Gorath bellowed, slamming his tower shield into the ground

Makran, the lanky shaman, darted toward Gorath's side, his staff clutched tightly in his gnarled hands. He seemed barely able to keep up with Gorath's decisive movements, his robes flapping wildly as he moved.

"Don't let him hit me, Gorath!" Makran wheezed, his voice tinged with panic. "I've no interest in becoming a pile of ash."

The chamber shook as the explosion struck. Arcs of red-violet energy splashed harmlessly against the shield, dissipating into harmless sparks. Gorath held firm, his powerful arms braced against the force. His feet ground into the stone, cracks spreading beneath him from the sheer impact, but he didn't falter.

Makran cowered behind Gorath's massive frame, barely avoiding the edges of the blast. His relief was palpable as the shimmering barrier held.

Odin stood unshaken, his form radiating with residual arcane energy. His gaze swept over the battered enemies, his voice colder than the frost clinging to his armor. "Is this your best? Then you've already lost."

Further down the chamber, Thalgrim, a hulking hobgoblin wielding a greatsword nearly as large as himself, staggered as the Arcane Explosion rocked his frame. His eyes burned with unyielding rage as he roared into the fray.

[Thalgrim the Skullsplitter - LV.139] (Mini-Boss) (70.977/100,750 HP)

[Thalgrim the Skullsplitter has activated Berserk Fury, gaining the following buff. Attack speed and damage increased by 30% for 15 seconds.]

With a guttural roar, he charged at Odin, his greatsword cleaving through the air. The sheer force of his swing seemed to make the ground tremble.

Odin turned his gaze to Thalgrim, his crimson eyes cold and calculating. 

As the berserker's greatsword came hurtling toward him, Odin raised his own blade in a controlled motion.

"Reckless," Odin remarked, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, taunting the Berserker Hobgoblin. 

His voice was calm, his composure unshaken. "A greatsword like yours is only as dangerous as the one wielding it."

With precision honed through countless battles as a Knight, Odin activated Stalwart Parry. His magic blade met Thalgrim's, deflecting the immense force of the attack with a resonating clang. 

[User has activated Stalwart Parry. 50 MP consumed.]

Sparks erupted from the contact while this clash of steel echoed in the chamber.

[Successful Parry!]

Thalgrim snarled and brought his weapon down in another mighty swing. Odin, unfazed, parried once more, his movements almost effortless. 

[Successful Parry!]

As the hobgoblin struck a second time within three seconds, the frost emanating from Odin's Frost Armor surged into action.

[Frost Armor Effect Activated: Enemy has struck twice within 3 seconds. Thalgrim is now Frozen for 2 seconds.]

A chilling wave swept over Thalgrim. His roaring charge halted as his body froze mid-swing. Ice crawled over his frame, locking him in place. His eyes widened in shock, his furious growls muffled by the encasing frost.

"Rage is no substitute for skill," Odin said softly, his voice tinged with disdain.

Seizing the opening created by the Frost Armor's Freezing Effect, Odin shifted his stance, his blade gleaming with a brilliant azure light. He thrust his blade forward, and a high-pressure jet of water erupted from its tip, extending the attack far beyond the reach of his physical weapon.

This was the evolution of the Piercing Thrust when using Aqua's Veil, transforming into the Tidal Strike skill.

The water jet shot forward with a deafening hiss, piercing through Thalgrim and continuing in a straight line. 

Ice crystals formed in its wake as the freezing edge of the water struck true.

[Critical Hit!]

[You have dealt 21,265 water damage to Thalgrim.] 

[Thalgrim is Frozen for an additional 2 seconds.]

The blast didn't stop at Thalgrim. The jet of water pierced through lesser enemies behind him, dealing devastating damage to those caught in its path, and there was some unlucky Hobgoblin who was rising up from the debris he crashed unto.

Dranok, who had been regaining his footing after the Arcane Explosion, was caught off guard as the Tidal Strike clipped his shoulder, sending him staggering. Frost formed at the wound's edges, and he cursed under his breath.

"Impossible… this human fights like a demon," Dranok hissed, clutching his shoulder.

Zarlok's fingers twitched as fiery energy coalesced in his clawed hand. 

"I will incinerate you and your arrogance, human!" Zarlok roared, his voice rising over the chaos.

The orb grew, its radiance illuminating the battlefield like a miniature sun. Zarlok's lips twisted into a sneer.

"You think yourself untouchable, human? Let's see how your ice fares against the inferno!" he snarled, his guttural voice cutting through the chaos.

Zarlok's pride had taken a blow when his strongest spells were thwarted by Odin's Frost Armor and magical prowess. Still, he refused to believe the human could withstand the full brunt of his magic. 

"Burn, you insolent wretch!" he bellowed, the fireball's circumference growing wider as its energy peaked.

Yorga, the Hobgoblin Beastmaster, assessed the battlefield. His eyes darted between Odin and his allies, noting the carnage the human's blade and spells wrought. 

With Odin's overwhelming strength proving to be more than a match for their brute force, Yorga grunted in frustration, raising the whistle to his lips. "Let's see how you fare against the pack."

[Yorga has activated Summon Dire Wolves. Two Dire Wolves (HP: 25,000 each) have joined the battle.]

The sharp, piercing note of the whistle reverberated through the chamber, and moments later, the ground trembled. From the shadows of the cave, two enormous Dire Wolves leaped forth, their eyes glowing crimson, their snarls reverberating with an almost supernatural menace. 

Their sleek, black-furred forms radiated predatory power, and their claws scraped against the stone floor as they sprinted toward their intended target.

"Feast on the weak!" he commanded, his voice booming with primal authority. 

The wolves bounded forward with terrifying speed, their claws digging into the stone floor as they honed in on Malfurion.

This change of pace had the Druid's eyes widening at the sight of the Dire Wolves barreling toward him. 

Panic flared in his chest, but he forced himself to steady his trembling hands.

"I won't falter," he muttered, though his voice carried a hint of unease. 

"Malf, focus on Zarlok," Odin's voice cut through the din of battle, calm yet commanding. "Take him out before he can cast again. I'll handle the beasts."

Trusting in Odin's command to target the casters, Malfurions hands glowed with the silvery light of lunar magic as he concentrated on his new skill. He glanced toward Zarlok, who was once again preparing a massive fireball.

He began to chant an incantation for one of his most powerful DPS spells.Lifting his staff skyward, a faint silver light began to gather at its tip, illuminating the dark cavern. "By the light of the moon, I judge thee unworthy!" 

A concentrated beam of silvery light erupted from the staff, hurtling toward Zarlok with unerring precision. The spell struck the Hobgoblin caster square in the chest, the impact throwing him backward.

[Malfurion has cast Lunar Strike. Zarlok takes 19,500 magic damage.]

[Zarlok's casting speed is reduced by 15% for 5 seconds.]

The Hobgoblin Wizard stumbled backward, clutching at his chest where the lunar energy seared into him. 

"Damn you, Druid! Once I kill your Mage friend, I will tear you apart and consume your soul!" Zarlok hissed, his voice laced with both anger and pain.

Zarlok's fireball erupted in a cascade of blinding flames as it collided with Odin, the inferno engulfing him in a violent explosion. 

The heatwave rippled through the chamber, searing the stone floor and forcing several of the hobgoblins to shield their eyes from the intensity. When the fire subsided, however, Odin emerged unscathed from the smoldering haze.

[You have resisted Zarlok the Flamescourge's Fireball Spell]

Not a hair on his head was singed, and his Frost Armor glistened with icy defiance, tiny snowflakes dancing in the air as if mocking the very concept of flame. The residual embers of the spell fizzled out upon touching the armor's glacial surface, leaving Zarlok staring in disbelief.

Odin stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, exuding an aura of composed malice. 

His crimson eyes bore into Zarlok with an intensity that sent a chill down the hobgoblin's spine, colder than any frost spell could. A smirk curled on Odin's lips, sharp and cutting, a blade of dark humor poised to strike.

"Your flames?" Odin began, his tone dripping with mockery, his voice calm yet carrying an edge that sliced through the air. "They're nothing more than a kobold's candle."

He extended a hand, allowing a wisp of frost to swirl around his fingers before flicking it dismissively. "You call this power? I've felt warmer breezes in the dead of winter."

Seeing the two wolves summoned by Yorga getting closer and closer to Malfurion, about to maul him to death, he turned his attention to those mutts, gauging their trajectory. Without hesitation, he unleashed his taunt and crowd-control skill.

'Black Wolf's Howl'

[User has consumed 350 MP]

Throwing back his head, Odin let out a chilling howl, the sound reverberating through the chamber like a death knell.

[Taunt Successful]

[Some targets have entered a Confused State. Attack and defense decreased by 15% for 30 seconds.]

[Some targets have entered a Fearful State. Attack and defense decreased by 15% for 30 seconds.]

The Dire Wolves, mere feet from the trembling Druid, skidded to a halt, their aggression evaporating as terror took hold. Their growls turned into whimpers as they turned their attention to Odin, hackles raised and tails tucked.

The ripple effect of the howl extended beyond the beasts. 

Zarlok staggered backward, his staff trembling in his grip as an involuntary shiver coursed through his body. The fiery hatred in his eyes dimmed, replaced with a glint of uncertainty. 

"Isn't this Dazan's ability? Damn, why I discarded the mental trinkets?" he muttered, his voice betraying his shaken composure.

Makran dropped his staff with a startled yelp, his eyes darting around as if expecting Odin to materialize before him. Even the Beastmaster faltered his blade and bow dipping slightly as he found himself unable to meet Odin's unyielding crimson gaze.

Ragnar frowned as he watched Odin utilize the signature ability of his Right-Hand Man, Dazan, who was set on an important mission with the Troll Witch to assist her in the sacrifice required to finally destroy the humans and reclaim their rights as surface dweller beings.

'It seems you have failed and somehow got defeated by this human mage.'

'I always knew you were pathetic, but to think you would allow yourself to be killed by a human mage puts our whole Ancestors to shame. I will have to do things myself to give humans for the Black Mage to complete the sacrifice.'

'Those human warriors are not enough even though they have a larger mana core than those swine from the farmlands.'

Shifting away from Ragnar, who waited calmly for Odin and Malfurion to exhaust themselves before stepping into action, since he wasn't willing to risk his own life, his calling was far too great than to soil it by accidentally failing. The God of Goblinkind watched over him and even blessed him.

Odin managed to taunt the Dire Wolves summoned by Yorga, along with Thalgrim and Gorath, who were charging at him. Ignoring the frozen Thalgrim, he activated his AoE skill, Whirling Blade, which transformed into Tidal Maelstrom under the blessings of Aqua's Veil.

He spun the blade in a wide arc, the motion smooth and deliberate, and the chamber erupted into chaos.

Odin enveloped in Aqua's Veil, became the eye of a relentless storm. Water surged outward in powerful spirals as he spun, creating a vortex of cutting currents that lashed out at everything within his reach. The chaotic energy of the maelstrom transformed the battlefield into a watery chaos, blending frost and force.

The Dire Wolves, first to bear the brunt of Odin's wrath, were caught mid-charge. The slicing water currents tore into their dense hides, spraying a fine mist of blood with each rotation of the vortex. Their snarls turned into howls of agony as the watery blades sapped their strength and slowed their once-deadly speed.

[Critical Hit!]

[Dire Wolf (1) has taken 17,012 water damage. Movement and attack speed reduced by 30%.]

[Dire Wolf (2) has taken 9,870 water damage. Movement and attack speed reduced by 30%.]

[Dire Wolves are trapped within the whirlpools, taking 3,253 water damage per second.]

Thalgrim, still partially frozen from Odin's earlier attack, attempted to raise his Greatsword, but the weight of the water currents kept him pinned. Each spin of the maelstrom battered him further, carving through his thick armor with relentless precision.

[Thalgrim has taken 12,200 water damage. Movement and attack speed reduced by 30%.]

[Thalgrim is trapped within the whirlpools, taking 3,400 water damage per second.]

Gorath, the larger and more brutish of the hobgoblins, charged forward in defiance, his large shield and sword glowing with fiery runes. However, as he entered the maelstrom's radius, the fire on his weapons flickered, and died under the oppressive might of Aqua's Veil. His swings were sluggish. His roars were drowned out by the relentless torrent.

[Critical Hit!]

[Gorath has taken 16,890 water damage. Movement and attack speed reduced by 30%.]

[Gorath is trapped within the whirlpools, taking 3,200 water damage per second.]

The Assassin hesitated as the watery vortex expanded outward. His confidence wavered as the currents dragged those who got caught into the chaos. Their shrieks filled the air, punctuating the splashing and slicing of the storm.

As the vortex slowed, the battlefield fell eerily silent, and the enemies within its range were left visibly shaken.

Odin's crimson eyes scanned his weakened foes and chose to put an end to the Dire Wolves since they were one step away from dying. He pivoted toward the Dire Wolves, now staggering from the relentless assault of the maelstrom.

With a step forward, Odin raised his sword high, its edge shimmering with arcane energy. He muttered a command under his breath, and the air around him pulsed with magic.

[User has consumed 250 MP]

A crescent wave of arcane energy erupted from his blade, slicing through the Dire Wolves like a blade through paper. The first wolf let out a gurgling howl as the arcane-infused strike tore into its flesh, disintegrating its life force. The second wolf fared no better, collapsing in a pool of shimmering light as the magic burned through its resistance.

[You have dealt 11,575 damage to Dire Wolf (1). Magic resistance reduced by 25%.]

[Critical Hit!]

[You have dealt 23,155 damage to Dire Wolf (2). Magic resistance reduced by 25%.]

Odin exhaled as the Dire Wolves crumbled to the ground, their lifeless forms marking the first success he had so far in this Boss fight.

[You have slain 'Dire Wolf (1)' gaining the following rewards: 25,250 EXP, Dire Fang Dagger (Rare), Wolfhide Cloak (Rare), Dire Wolf Hide ×2, Dire Wolf Blood ×2, 27 Silver Coins]

[You have slain 'Dire Wolf (2)' gaining the following rewards: 25,250 EXP, Bloodfang Boots (Rare), Lunar Fang Necklace (Rare), Dire Wolf Claws ×2, Dire Wolf Blood ×2, 37 Silver Coins]

Without hesitation, he turned his gaze toward Zarlok, who had just shaken off the effects of the fear debuff.

"Malfurion," Odin called out, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Entangle them."

The Druid nodded, stepping forward with his staff glowing green. He raised it high, and the ground beneath Thalgrim and Dranok quaked. Thick, twisting roots erupted from the stone floor, coiling around their legs and pulling them down.

[Entangling Roots Activated!]

[Thalgrim has taken 9,600 nature damage. Immobilized for 4 seconds.]

[Dranok has taken 8,400 nature damage. Immobilized for 4 seconds.]

Thalgrim roared in frustration, struggling against the roots as they sapped his strength. Dranok fared no better. His axes were rendered useless as he thrashed against his bindings.

While the warriors were pinned, Gorath, the hulking hobgoblin, saw through Odin's strategy. His deep voice bellowed across the chamber.

"You think you're clever, human?" Gorath sneered, gripping his sword and shield. "I'll cut you down myself!"

The brute charged forward, his fiery runes flickering as he swung his blade with intent to intercept Odin. But Odin was already in motion. With a burst of speed, he activated 'Blade Dash', a blur of water trailing in his wake as he surged past Gorath like a specter. 

The hobgoblin's Taunt rang out in vain, failing to ensnare Odin, who resisted the magic effortlessly.

Odin materialized near Zarlok, his presence sudden and terrifying. The hobgoblin wizard stumbled back, raising a hurried Mana Shield, the faint glow trembling as it formed.

"You won't stop me with that flimsy trick," Odin spat, his tone cold and resolute. 

With a flick of his wrist, two 'Magic Missiles' streaked forward. The missiles smashed into Zarlok's shield with deafening force, shattering it like glass and sending the mage sprawling.

[Critical Hit!]

[You have dealt 14,862 damage to the targets.]

[You have dealt 7,434 damage to the targets.]

Zarlok groaned, his staff trembling in his grasp as he prepared to retaliate. He raised his hands, summoning fire with desperate urgency.

"You'll burn in the flames of Goblinkind's wrath!" Zarlok shrieked, casting 'Flame Pillar'. 

A roaring column of fire erupted around Odin, its heat suffocating and fierce.

But the flames dissipated harmlessly against Odin's Aqua Veil, the water shielding him with flawless resistance. Zarlok's face paled as he realized the futility of his attack.

"Is that all?" Odin taunted, stepping through the flames without a scratch.

Makran, the Warcaller, saw Zarlok faltering and quickly intervened. He raised his hands, a low chant escaping his lips as a golden aura enveloped Zarlok.

"Hold on, Zarlok! Murkthok's blessing will heal you!" Makran bellowed, his 'Healing Chant' taking effect.

[Zarlok's HP regenerating by 4% per second.]

But Odin wasn't going to allow the mage to recover. His blade shimmered with the energy of Aqua's Veil once more as he lifted it high and slammed it into the ground.

"Let's finish this."

As Zarlok faltered, his attempt to erect another Mana Shield ended in vain. Odin, sensing the moment of weakness, shifted his stance. His blade pulsed with shimmering water magic coiling around it like a living entity. 

With a single powerful motion, he drove the sword downward, striking the ground.

"Tidal Crash!" Odin's voice boomed across the chamber, resonating like a storm announcing its arrival.

The impact was immediate. From the point of contact, a surge of water energy erupted outward in concentric waves, crashing against everything in its path. The ground quaked beneath the force, and the air filled with the roar of rushing water. The torrent rippled outwards, shimmering with an icy brilliance, enveloping Zarlok and those in the immediate vicinity in a devastating deluge.

Zarlok's frail frame was the first to bear the brunt. The tidal wave crashed into him, shattering his concentration and any hope of retaliation. 

The mage was sent hurtling backward, his robes drenched and tattered as if they had been clawed by the ferocity of the water. A freezing mist followed in the wake of the wave, coating the ground and the mage himself in a layer of frost.

"No! I will not fall here!" Zarlok screamed, his voice trembling with desperation. 

Yet his words were drowned out by the howling of the mist-laden winds left in the attack's aftermath. His staff, glowing faintly with residual mana, clattered to the ground as his grip faltered.

The freezing mist seeped into his very being, slowing his movements and dulling his senses.

Meanwhile, the tidal wave slammed into Makran and other hobgoblin warriors nearby, pushing them back. The Warcaller staggered, his healing chant faltering mid-syllable.

"Hold fast, Zarlok! I can still—" Makran's words were cut short as the chilling mist reached him, sapping his strength and freezing his breath in his throat.

Zarlok's final moments were marked by a flash of steel. 

Odin moved through the dissipating mist like a specter, closing the distance with predatory speed. The mage's defenses were rendered meaningless. 

Odin's sword, still imbued with the residual power of the Tidal Crash, descended one final time.

With an audible crack, the blade pierced Zarlok's chest, the mage's eyes wide with shock and disbelief. As the life faded from him, his last breath emerged as a misty vapor, lost in the freezing air.

[You have slain 'Zarlok the Flamescourge' gaining the following rewards: 845,000 EXP, Flamescourge Robes (Epic), Infernal Focus (Epic), Cinderwrap Belt (Rare), Ashforged Boots (Rare), Weapon Enhancement Stone ×3, Armor Enhancement Stone ×3, 58 Gold Coins]

[You have leveled up!]

[You have leveled up! Congratulations on reaching level 111.]

Odin straightened as his resources got recharged, excluding his Stamina Energy, shifting his focus on another easy pray, while around him, the remnants of the freezing mist swirled like an ethereal aura,

"Who's next?"