NOVGO.NET Chapter 564: How Is This Possible?
Chapter 564: How Is This Possible?
It was only in the Land of Origin that one could be spared the worst of it. Here, the body and soul were like reflections on water. Pain could bleed through, but only faintly. If the same thing had happened outside, in the real world, the damage would have sunk deeper.
Even now, though the backlash twisted his body in this realm, Michael true body beyond the Land of Origin felt only a fraction of it. A quarter of the sting. But that was enough for Michael to understand his undead were truly dead. The bond was gone.
The next thing Michael felt was rage.
Part of it was for the loss of his undead.
But if he was being honest, that wasn’t what burned deepest. He hadn’t been close to those particular minions. What truly pained him was something else entirely.
Evolution Points.
Two undead at his current stage meant at least two hundred and fifty points gone—vanished in an instant. For one undead to accumulate this amount, at least half a year was needed.
And beneath that, a dozen other frustrations boiled.
Michael’s body blurred from where he sat, rage channeling into motion.
Brian, elsewhere, was smiling faintly as his experience tally climbed—until a sudden shift in his senses turned his expression grave. Without hesitation, he shot sideways.
His two companions were not so fortunate.
The blow came with the exaggerated length of a spear shaft, thrusting with impossible speed. Against a force that rivaled a Rank 3 creature, combined with the bite of a three-star extraordinary-rank spear, their blue robes might as well have been paper. They didn’t even have time to react before their bodies crumpled, lives snuffed out in the Land of Origin.
The aftermath of Michael’s strike rippled outward like a thunderclap.
The spear’s arc gouged a crater into the earth, pulverizing roots and soil in its wake. Trees within a dozen meters splintered, trunks toppling in ragged bursts as if struck by a hurricane’s edge.
Michael hadn’t held back.
Not just because of his anger, but because here—inside the Land of Origin—death was almost never true death.
As for whether this would bring him trouble? How was he supposed to know the robe wasn’t omnipotent?
After all, there was nothing in this place that shielded his undead from true death.
Michael’s gaze swept the ruined clearing, and when it landed on the lone figure standing opposite him, his frown deepened.
“Brian.”
“Michael.”
Their names left their lips like iron, jaws clenched, neither yielding an inch.
Neither had expected to see the other here. Yet as the thought settled, it became obvious—if one of them could be here, then surely the other could as well. It
The realization came and went in a breath. Almost as though they had already agreed without speaking, both men surged forward at once.
Their charge ended in an instant.
The ground cracked beneath the clash, air detonating outward in a rolling wave of dust and debris. And then, faster than either had launched themselves, one of them was already sent flying back.
Brian’s body skidded across the earth, coughing up a spray of blood. His eyes widened in disbelief, the confidence etched into his face finally cracking.
Michael stood firm, spear in hand, his gaze cold.
Michael’s grip on his spear tightened. His strike had been decisive—he hadn’t held back much at all. Yet Brian was still alive. Injured, yes, but alive.
Michael’s eyes narrowed. How strong is his body?
On the other end, Brian staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth. His gaze fixed on Michael, flickering with disbelief. Before his awakening, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been thrown into such a state. And after awakening, he never imagined a peer could force him into this.
He didn’t even consider his peers his peers.
Confusion swelled in his chest. It didn’t make sense. Michael was only four levels above him. Four. That gap shouldn’t have been enough to guarantee dominance, especially when Brian had his triple-class foundation to lean on. His other two classes, his Knight and his Wind Mage paths, were only two and three levels behind his Fire Mage. That meant, logically, even if Michael had attribute increasing treasures to lean on, something he didn’t lack one but, his attributes should tower above Michael’s.
Yet here he was, coughing blood.
How?
Brian’s mind raced, but no answer came. The only thing that grew certain was this: Michael was far stronger than he had any right to be.
In his fury, Brian unleashed one of his few advanced-level skills.
“Berserk!”
[{Berserk} (Advanced Mastery) Proficiency: 41.3%]
Berserk drives the user into a heightened state of combat frenzy, amplifying physical strength and agility by 55% each, while reducing defense by 15%. Pain tolerance surges, allowing the user to continue fighting through even crippling wounds. However, aggression spikes dangerously, risking reckless actions if left unchecked. Stamina drains rapidly—though slower than at lower mastery—and prolonged use inflicts muscle strain and mental fatigue once the frenzy fades.
It was a skill knights could acquire, though not a core ability. It always began at Basic Mastery, but the Knight class offered natural synergy that made advancing it far easier.
Even so, only someone with Brian’s raw talent could push the skill to Advanced Mastery in just three months.
Part of that came from sheer repetition—Berserk was one of his most frequently used abilities inside the Land of Origin.
His triple-class foundation made him terrifyingly powerful, but it came with a cost—slower leveling. Brian had balanced that drawback by deliberately hunting stronger monsters for the bonus experience they provided and by excelling in his advancement quests, earning far more than his peers.
It was only through this strategy that someone who should have been held back by slow progression now stood among the highest-leveled students in the trial.
But even then, it still didn’t feel like enough.
Michael, still reeling with confusion at Brian’s absurd strength, watched as his opponent’s aura flared violently, surging to an even greater peak.
Without hesitation, Michael lunged forward, spear in hand, cutting across the dust-filled air as he charged straight for the figure.