Overgeared: Saharan Successor

Chapter 65: Chief's Hall

Standing there looking at the Goblin Den, he raised one gauntleted hand and then began murmuring a soft incantation. 

'Magic Detection'

[User has consumed 3000 MP]

A faint shimmer rippled outward from his palm, spreading like a wave across the room. The energy illuminated hidden wards and traps woven into the terrain, the faint glow of goblin enchantments betraying their presence. Here and there, faint flickers of magic pulsed, indicating the position of spellcasters lurking in the shadows.

But they stood no chance against the genius of the Legendary Archmage, Braham, and his spellcraft.

"Clever," Odin muttered, his tone devoid of praise. "For rats." 

He flexed his fingers, dispelling the detection field. "But not clever enough."

The goblins froze as his gaze swept over them, their eyes wide and filled with dread. It wasn't just his towering frame or the eerie crimson glow of his eyes; it was the Aura of Despair emanating from his Armor of Despair. 

The oppressive energy seemed to crush the air from the room, filling every corner with a suffocating sense of doom.

Odin stepped forward slowly and deliberately. His boots against the stone floor echoed like a death knell. 

Each step resonated towards all the goblins inside: Run or die.

The goblins didn't run. They couldn't. Fear rooted them in place, their trembling bodies betraying their survival instincts. To them, Odin wasn't a man. He was something else entirely. A walking calamity. It felt as if he had turned into a nightmare, a Boss creature the goblins had to defeat if they ever wanted to see the next day's light.

A particularly bold hobgoblin stepped forward, its larger frame towering over the trembling goblins. 

A hobgoblin in the center of the den barked orders, its guttural language filled with desperation. Its minions scrambled to obey, hastily grabbing weapons and shields. 

A few brave—or foolish—goblins positioned themselves before their leader, their crude spears trembling in their hands.

Odin's lips curved into a cold, mirthless smile. "Is this it?" he said, his voice carrying effortlessly through the cavern. "Your last stand? Your pathetic attempt to resist?" 

He chuckled softly, the sound as sharp and cold as steel. 

"I commend your bravery. But it changes nothing."

The hobgoblin's eyes burning with hatred pointed at Odin and growled, "Intruder! Black Death come! Fight! Fight or die!"

Another step. As he approached, the torches on the walls seemed to dim, and the shadows around him grew darker and deeper. The goblins began to chatter nervously, their eyes darting between each other. 

Odin halted mid-step, tilting his head slightly as if considering the words. His voice, when it came, was calm, almost conversational, but laced with cold menace. 

"You call me 'Black Death.' Fitting. But I wonder…" His lips curved into a faint smirk. 

"Do you understand the futility of fighting me? Or are you hoping to die with some semblance of dignity?"

He stopped as the first goblin closed the distance. Odin's hand gripped the hilt of his magic sword tightly, and he raised his sword slowly. Its blade shimmered faintly, and the magical runes etched along its surface pulsed with latent energy. 

With a single motion, he activated Tempest Sword: Cyclone of Blades.

'Tempest Sword: Cyclone of Blades.'

[User has consumed 850 MP]

The air around him shifted violently, a roaring vortex of wind and steel erupting from the blade. 

The cyclone tore through the goblins instantly, its radius engulfing the first wave of attackers. Screams filled the cavern as the whirlwind of slashes ripped through their ranks, shredding flesh and armor alike. 

Goblin bodies were hurled into the air, flailing helplessly before being dashed against the cavern walls. Blood sprayed in wide arcs, painting the den in gruesome splatters.

[Critical Hit!]

[You have dealt 13,467 damage to the targets.]

[You have dealt 6,594 damage to the targets.]

[You have dealt 6,733 damage to the targets.]

[Critical Hit!]

[You have dealt 13,467 damage to the targets.]

[You have dealt 6,498 damage to the targets.]

The hobgoblin, battered and bloodied but not yet broken, staggered backward, clutching its crude cleaver as if it were a talisman of salvation. Its beady eyes darted between the corpses of its fallen kin and the unstoppable juggernaut before it.

"Black Death!" it bellowed, its guttural voice trembling with defiance and terror. "Kill him! Kill him, or we die!"

Spurred on by their leader's desperation, more goblins surged forward. Their ragged war cries fill the cavern. Armed with spears, swords, and rusted shields, they recklessly closed the distance. Whether driven by fear of their commander or a final burst of courage, they threw themselves at Odin with the determination of cornered prey.

Odin tilted his head, observing the suicidal charge with a faint smirk. "Throwing your lives away so carelessly?" he murmured. "Is this loyalty? Or merely the desperation of rats scurrying before the flood?" 

He tightened his grip on his magic sword, its runes glowing brighter with each passing second.

Odin remained unmoved by this charge of the goblins; in fact, he welcomed this attack since it made his life easier by not chasing too much after them in their hiding spots. Stepping forward into the chaos, his blade trailing wisps of wind as he swept it in a wide arc.

"Pathetic," 

He raised the blade high, its edge crackling with arcane energy. The air around him grew heavy as if the atmosphere itself bowed under the weight of his power. The runes flared a blinding blue, the light dancing like flames along the length of the blade.

"Very well," he said, his voice resonating with finality. "If you insist on dying, I'll grant your wish. Arcane Cleaver!"

[User has consumed 250 MP.]

With a downward slash, Odin unleashed a devastating wave of arcane energy. A crescent of glowing power erupted from the tip of the Guardian's Blade and expanded outward in a horizontal arc. The magic-infused wave roared through the air, its sound so deafening that it drowned out the goblins' screams.

The arcane wave struck the advancing goblins with merciless precision. It carved through their ranks, severing limbs and cleaving bodies in half as though their armor and flesh were made of paper. 

[Critical Hit!]

[You have dealt 21,845 damage to the targets.]

[All the hit targets have their magic resistance reduced by 25% for 15 seconds.]

Odin stepped forward, his movements measured and deliberate, his boots squelching against the blood-soaked stone. He locked eyes with the hobgoblin, the only creature that tried to make a stand against him amidst the wreckage of his forces.

Odin observed the scene with cold detachment. 

"More?" 

He shifted his grip on the Guardian's Blade, its runes pulsing like a living thing. The air around him seemed to twist and coil, and his presence's oppressive aura suffocated whatever little courage the goblins might have had.

Odin pivoted sharply, his blade sweeping out in a deadly spiral.'Whirling Blade.'

[User has consumed 55 MP.]

The attack unfurled with a spinning maelstrom that lashed out in all directions. The blade's edge gleamed, reflecting the dim torchlight in fleeting flashes of blue and silver. As he spun, the sheer force of the strike generated a vortex, dragging the goblins inward. 

Those caught in its radius were shredded by the relentless flurry of slashes, their cries swallowed by the deafening roar of the storm.

[Critical Hit!]

[You have dealt 14,562 damage to the targets.]

[You have dealt 9,334 damage to the targets.]

[Critical Hit!]

[You have dealt 18,472 damage to the targets.]

Goblin bodies were flung into the air, their broken forms crashing against the cavern walls like discarded dolls. Blood sprayed in chaotic arcs, painting the already crimson-stained ground with fresh layers of gore. The few who survived the initial onslaught staggered back, their weapons falling from trembling hands.

Odin slowed his spin and came to a stop, his sword raised at the ready. His breath was steady, and his posture was straight like a marble statue's. Around him, the goblins hesitated, their fear now overflowing.

"Still standing?" he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Allow me to correct that."

Without waiting for their response, Odin raised his free hand, his fingers tracing an intricate pattern in the air. The magic within him surged, a torrent of arcane energy pooling into a singular, devastating force. The cavern seemed to react, the walls trembling as if bracing for the coming chaos.

'Arcane Explosion.'

[User has consumed 800 MP.]

A radiant burst of energy erupted from Odin, a blinding shockwave that expanded outward in a violent cascade. The blast consumed everything in its path, its sheer force obliterating the remaining goblins where they stood. The air crackled with raw power, the magic igniting the atmosphere with an eerie, violet-blue glow.

[Critical Hit!]

[You have dealt 28,975 damage to the targets.]

[All hit targets suffer 20% increased damage from arcane spells for 10 seconds.]

As the initial wave faded, smaller bursts of energy erupted from the ground around the den. The goblins who had survived the first explosion were caught off guard as the Aftershock pulses detonated beneath their feet, sending them flying.

[You have dealt 5,789 damage to the targets.]

[Critical Hit!]

[You have dealt 9,456 damage to the targets.]

The den was silent save for the crackling energy and the moans of the dying. Only the hobgoblin leader remained, clutching its cleaver with trembling hands. Blood dripped from its countless wounds, but it still stood, its chest heaving with labored breaths.

Odin's gaze locked onto the creature, and his lips curled into a faint smirk. "Still standing?" he said, his tone almost impressed. "How noble. How pointless."

The hobgoblin raised its cleaver, roaring one last time, a defiant challenge in the face of certain death. Odin didn't hesitate.

Activating Swift Charge, his form blurred, dashing forward faster than the eye could follow.

In an instant, Odin was in front of the hobgoblin, his blade raised high. The creature's roar cut off mid-cry as Odin swung the Guardian's Blade in a single, decisive arc. The runes on the sword flared one final time, and the hobgoblin's head was severed cleanly from its shoulders.

The decapitated body stood for a moment, swaying as if unsure of its fate, before crumpling to the blood-soaked ground with a dull thud. The head rolled to Odin's feet, its lifeless eyes staring at him.

[You have slain 'Hobgoblin Elite Warrior' gaining the following rewards: 150,000 EXP, Crude Cleaver of Defiance (Rare), Bone-Studded Pauldrons (Uncommon), Blackened Meat Strip (Common), Weapon Enhancement Stone ×1, Armor Enhancement Stone ×1, 10 Gold Coins]

Odin exhaled calmly. With his Sovereign Insight, he could feel the presence of the goblins that had not been killed. This made him turn on his heels and begin chasing after the monsters while his Armor of Despar continued to demoralize them. 

He paused, holding the Guardian's Blade aloft, its runes still faintly pulsing. A low growl rumbled deep within his throat as he activated 'Black Wolf's Howl.' The sound reverberated through the air like a thunderclap, a guttural, primal roar that resonated with the promise of death.

[Enemies within a 7-meter radius are afflicted with 'Fear' for 10 seconds.]

The goblins froze in their tracks, their courage unraveling entirely. Some dropped their weapons and collapsed to the ground, clutching their heads in terror, while others fled, crashing into each other in their desperation to escape. The larger hobgoblins hesitated, their expressions creeping dread.

His crimson eyes scanned the scene with an unrelenting gaze, his presence a harbinger of death. 

He noticed Malfurion standing nearby, his staff loosely gripped in his hand, watching the slaughter unfold without making a move.

"Malfurion," Odin called, his voice sharp, cutting through the echoes of fleeing goblins. "Stop gawking and start cleaning up. My hands are already full." 

He gestured briefly to the scattered masses, still alive but broken. Their paths crisscrossed chaotically in the warren's dim light.

The druid stiffened slightly, the faintest shadow of discomfort flickering across his face. For a moment, Malfurion hesitated, his gaze darting to the quivering forms of goblin younglings pressed against the cavern walls. Their frightened eyes mirrored the terror that enveloped the den. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to reconcile the scene.

'This is a game,' 

Malfurion thought to himself, gripping his staff tightly. 

'It's still a virtual game. They will eventually respawn. Goblins, not people anyway, so better not give the impression I'm dead weight to Odin.'

The mantra felt hollow, but he repeated it internally, a shield against the gnawing unease.

Malfurion shifted his weight, and his inner conflict gave way. 

His grip on his staff tightened as he summoned his druidic magic, soon surging through.

He crouched low, his muscles rippling as his body shimmered and began to change. In a heartbeat, Malfurion transformed into a sleek, black panther. His emerald eyes now glowed faintly, exuding a feral intensity. His dark fur seemed to absorb the dim light of the cavern, rendering him almost invisible as he slinked forward.

Odin glanced at the transformation, offering only a faint nod of approval. "About time. Don't let any of them slip away."

⤷ Malfurion: I will not let them slip away!

The panther gave a low growl before vanishing into the shadows with unnerving speed. Silent and predatory, Malfurion pounced on a fleeing goblin, his claws raking through its torso with lethal precision. 

He moved like a shadow come to life, his agility allowing him to leap from one target to another without pause. Goblins shrieked in terror, their numbers dwindling rapidly under the combined wrath of Odin and Malfurion.

For every goblin that thought it had escaped Odin's reach, the panther loomed like a specter, finishing them with swift efficiency. Malfurion's doubts began to fade as the primal thrill of the hunt and gaining EXP was addicting without a fragment of doubt, enough that it consumed him.

Together, the duo wrought havoc through the Goblin Den, leaving no corner untouched, no life spared. 

Blood and chaos trailed in their wake, marking their path of annihilation. 

[You have leveled up to 109!]

Nearby, Malfurion shifted back from his Black Panther form, his humanoid body flickering as the magical energy dissipated. Though somewhat tattered and bloodstained, his mossy robes still bore the earthy vitality characteristic of a druid. He stood silently for a moment, watching as Odin strode toward the center of the den, where a patch of relative calm awaited.

"Places packed with monsters like this," Odin said, calm but tinged with satisfaction, "are always great for leveling up. A grind, sure, but worth every bit of effort."

Malfurion chuckled softly, following Odin to the central area. "You make it sound like we're harvesting crops," he remarked, his voice carrying a trace of dry humor.

Odin glanced at him as they both found a spot to recover, the quiet interrupted only by the faint echoes of dripping water and the occasional groan of the dying goblins far behind. He removed a flask from his inventory, drank deeply to restore his stamina, and handed one to Malfurion.

"Here, grab one of those since we reached 50% of our Stamina Energy. It will recover 15 points."

Malfurion accepted the flask with a nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he inspected the item. "Thanks, though I still find it strange how stamina works here in Satisfy World. One moment you're tearing through enemies like a force of nature, and the next, you feel like an old man trying to climb a hill."

"Trust me, no one knows how the Stamina Energy System even works. Not even the Devs. I asked some of them directly. After all, I found myself wiping on instances because I was running out of Stamina midflight, rendering me useless."

He uncorked the flask and took a measured sip, feeling a faint surge of energy ripple through his body as the stamina potion worked its magic. 

Malfurion stretched his shoulders and rolled his neck, sighing as he handed the empty flask back to Odin. "You always keep these stocked, huh? Makes me wonder just how much planning goes into your inventory. Knowing you, I bet you've sorted it down to the last feather and scrap of ore."

"You just drank a 2.000 gold potion."

As they rested, Odin's gaze lingered on Malfurion. "So," he began, leaning against a jagged rock, "have you figured out your playstyle yet? For your Druid class, I mean. Are you leaning toward healing, staying back as a long-ranged caster, or do you prefer getting up close with those feral transformations?"

Malfurion tilted his head, considering the question as he sipped from the flask. His emerald eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and he let out a low hum before answering. "I've been thinking about that," he admitted. 

"Healing's useful, sure, but it feels... restrictive. You end up relying too much on others to pull their weight. If your party is full of retarded players, you're stuck patching them up instead of actually enjoying the game. Not exactly my idea of fun."

He leaned on his staff, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the carved runes. "Feral combat is exhilarating,"

"There's something primal about tearing through enemies up close. But... it's situational. Not every encounter allows for that kind of play. And then there's magic—long-ranged casting feels powerful but lacks the versatility I'm looking for."

Odin nodded, his crimson eyes scanning his inventory. He began sorting through the loot they'd gathered, discarding trash items with a few quick gestures. Broken daggers, cracked shields, and bundles of goblin hair vanished in flashes of light, the remnants too worthless even to sell to NPC merchants.

"So, a hybrid approach, then?" Odin prompted, not looking up as he tossed another item aside.

"Exactly," Malfurion replied, a hint of excitement entering his voice. "I think leaning into a hybrid playstyle is best for me. It gives me options—adaptability. I can heal if necessary, cast spells to control the battlefield or go feral when the situation demands it. It means I'm not tied to any one role."

Odin smirked faintly. His approval was subtle but present. "Good choice," he said, standing and brushing dust from his armor. "Flexibility is key in Satisfy World, especially when you're running with a small group. Just don't spread yourself too thin. Mastery always trumps mediocrity, even in hybrids."

Malfurion nodded, his grip tightening on his staff. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, a quiet determination settling over him.

The duo finished their rest and began moving toward the last room in the Goblin Den. The oppressive atmosphere grew heavier as they approached, the faint orange glow of firelight flickering ominously in the distance. 

The crude doors to the Hobgoblin Chieftain's Hall loomed ahead, carved from jagged planks and reinforced with crude iron bands.

"Ready?" Odin asked, his voice low but resolute.

"Always," Malfurion replied, gripping his staff as a faint aura of druidic magic flickered around him.

Odin pushed open the heavy doors, their iron bands groaning in protest. The cavernous hall beyond was awash with the flickering light of massive torches mounted on the rough stone walls. Shadows danced menacingly, adding to the oppressive air of danger that permeated the room.

At the far end of the hall, seated upon a makeshift throne of bones, iron, and shattered shields, was the Hobgoblin Chieftain, Ragnar Ironclaw.

[You have encountered Hobgoblin Chief, Ragnar Ironclaw (Boss).]

'This is it, I guess. Glad I haven't used the Red Energy Blessings on the fodder and the Mini-bosses.'

'Let's see what he has in store for me.'

'Sovereign Insight'

[You have consumed (5) Red Energy]

[You have penetrated the essence of things!]

Before his eyes, various information was displayed on specific windows that could be overwhelming at first glance. All of them were interesting to read, but what he was more interested in, apart from the weaknesses and strong points in his stance and body imbalances, the one he was interested in regarding NPCs was their Status Window and Skill Window.

[Ragnar Ironclaw - LV.150] (Boss) (245,000/245,000 HP)

[Skills: Cleave (A), Ironclad Stance (A), War Cry (A), Earth Splitter (A), Battle Trance (A), Summon Reinforcements (A), Bloodbath (S), Final Reckoning (S)]

[Passives]

[Iron Resolve: Ragnar takes 10% reduced damage from all sources.]

[Fury of the Chieftain: Increases attack speed and critical hit chance by 15% when below 50% HP.]

[Commanding Presence: Nearby allies deal 20% more damage and gain 10% increased movement speed.]

Flanking him were his Elite Hobgoblin Guards, hulking hobgoblins clad in heavier armor than the grunts they had slaughtered earlier. Each carried wickedly sharp weapons and radiated an aura of deadly precision.

As Odin and Malfurion stepped into the hall, the chieftain rose, his guttural roar echoing like a thunderclap.

"Interlopers!" he bellowed in a deep, gravelly tone, slamming the butt of his axe into the stone floor. "You dare defile my domain? Your bones will join the rest!"

The few remaining hobgoblins in the room erupted in a guttural cheer, their confidence bolstered by their leader's presence.

Odin raised the Guardian's Blade, the runes along its length glowing brighter as it resonated with his resolve. He smirked. "I've heard that one before. Let's see if you can back it up."

⤷ Odin: Start buffing me; we'll be there for a wild run.

Malfurion's staff began to glow with a soft green light as he muttered an incantation under his breath, where next tendrils of green mana flowed from him toward Odin, wrapping around him like a protective cocoon.

[Nature's Ward: Increases physical defense by 20% and grants a regenerating shield that absorbs up to 15% of your max HP over 15 seconds. Shield refreshes every 30 seconds while the buff is active. Duration: 5 minutes.]

A second incantation followed as Malfurion raised his staff, summoning a glowing wisp of light that hovered near Odin's shoulder.

"Lifebloom," Malfurion said calmly, the wisp pulsing softly.

[Lifebloom: A druidic wisp follows you, healing 2% of your max HP every 10 seconds. If you fall below 25% HP, the wisp bursts, healing 10% of your max HP instantly. Duration: 5 minutes.]

Finally, Malfurion pressed his palm to the ground, the stone beneath him glowing faintly as roots spread outward like veins. The aura flowed into Odin's feet.

"Mana Surge… I'll keep it up as long as possible."

[Mana Surge: Reduces mana cost for all abilities by 15% and increases mana regeneration by 25%. Duration: 3 minutes.]

As Malfurion's spells took effect, Odin's system interface lit up with a cascade of notifications, the visual effects shimmering briefly before stabilizing.

[Current Buffs Active]

* Arcane Intellect (Enhanced): +20% Intelligence, +30% Mana Pool, +10% Mana Regen.

* Frost Armor (Enhanced): +30% Physical Defense, Elemental Damage Resistance +40%

* Nature's Ward: +20% Physical Defense, regenerating shield.

* Lifebloom: Continuous and emergency healing.

* Mana Surge: Reduced mana costs and increased regen.

---

* Strategic Sovereign (Passive): Increases team efficiency (attack speed, casting speed, cooldown recovery) by 15%.

* Imperial Wisdom (Passive): Increases Intelligence by 20%. Enhances puzzle-solving, deciphering ancient texts by 20%. Provides a 100% bonus to quest experience gained.

* Imperial Unity (Passive): Boosts team synergy (combined attack combos or shared abilities) by 50%. Increases damage dealt by 25% and reduces damage taken by 25% for all allies within 15 meters.

***

Receiving all the buffs Malfurion could place on him, he proceeded with his buffs after activating his Frost Armor. He returned to his Saharan Successor skills, which he rarely used because of their long cooldowns.

Stepping purposefully as he approached Ragnar Ironclaw, his Guardian's Blade glowing with an icy blue hue, the crimson lights surrounding him pulsed with the rhythm of his heartbeat, casting an otherworldly glow over him.

Odin halted mid-step, gripping his sword tightly as he focused his Red Energy. The pulsing crimson aura surrounding him flared outward in a wave, expanding to envelop him and Malfurion. The air thickened with the unmistakable weight of authority as though an emperor's decree had been etched into the very fabric of the hall.

'Imperial Eminence'

[You have consumed (10) Red Energy ]

[You have activated 'Imperial Eminence', granting all party members an increase in their combat capabilities (attack, defense, and critical hit rate) by 15% for 60 minutes. Simultaneously, it grants a 50% experience bonus to all allies in your party.][Allies within Odin's aura become immune to fear or morale-breaking debuffs during its active duration.]

The crimson aura grew brighter, its presence empowering Malfurion, whose form straightened as if bolstered by an unseen strength. His staff glowed faintly in response, the druid's natural magic resonating with the emperor-like authority radiating from Odin.

"Quite the show," Malfurion remarked, his voice tinged with awe as he felt the effects of the Imperial Eminence. "This will make things… interesting."

Odin took another step forward, his gaze locking onto Ragnar Ironclaw with cold resolve. 

This time, the red glow surrounding him did not merely pulse—it erupted into a fiery burst of energy, swirling violently before condensing into a brilliant aura that clung to him like an imperial cloak.

'Imperial Supremacy'

[You have consumed (20) Red Energy ]

[You have activated 'Imperial Supremacy', granting all of your primary stats an increase of 15% for 10 minutes. While active, Odin emits a Red Aura, intimidating nearby enemies, reducing their critical hit chance by 5%.]

The Red Aura radiated outward, suffused with Odin's sheer presence, commanding attention and imposing fear. 

It burned brightly yet coldly, a paradoxical manifestation of his icy spell wrapping around him and the searing authority.

The oppressive atmosphere of the hall shifted dramatically. The flickering shadows cast by the torches seemed to retreat from Odin's overwhelming aura, leaving him the undeniable center of power in the room. 

Ragnar Ironclaw, who had stood confidently on his throne moments before, narrowed his eyes as the aura reached him.

"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."