"You... how did you get here?" Yingning stammered, utterly flabbergasted to see me.
The crisis wasn't over. Dozens of players still surrounded us. No time to answer.
Yingning lay on her side, one hand gripping the sword, unable to rise.
I pinned her down, palms braced against the ground. My nine tails flared wide, sealing every blind spot around her. My back took the fireballs.
*Cough...*
I’d underestimated the game’s realism. Blood surged up my throat, splattering across Yingning’s porcelain neck. It stained her pale skin and the dark hair spilling over her cheek. Bathed in the night’s harsh white light, the scene felt tragically grand.
My max HP was 180. Two fireballs to the back left me with a fragile 48. Yingning had only 15 HP clinging to her life. We were both on death’s door—but she finally held that one-handed sword. The sword that meant victory.
I stayed frozen. Yingning stared up at my face, stunned silent by my sudden appearance.
It wasn’t over. Dozens of players still locked onto us. Skills were already charging.
"What is that?!"
"Holy shit!"
"Rain... of light?"
A dense swarm of white light surged from the mountainside, engulfing a thirty-meter radius around us. An indiscriminate bombardment zone.
At the tip of each beam of light? An ordinary, unassuming green pea. But blessed by the radiance, they transformed into lethal arrows—peas as arrowheads, screaming through the air with vicious *whooshes*!
Even more terrifying: their speed and power didn’t fade with distance. They grew brighter. Stronger. Their piercing force multiplied several times over, ruthlessly slamming into every living thing within the zone.
A player’s mind flashed with a skill name.
Unbelievable as it was, he screamed it aloud:
"Holy Light Blessing! The most useless low-tier healing skill! *Holy Light Blessing!*"
*Holy Light Blessing?!*
Don’t be absurd. That trash skill could never create this hailstorm of arrows.
It was a skill even DPS priests ignored. Its effect was simple: enchant one item. No cooldown. 1-second cast. 60-second duration.
Enchantment effect: When thrown, the item gains spell damage that *increases with distance*. Within 100 meters: fixed +10% of caster’s spell damage. Beyond 100 meters: +2% spell damage per additional meter. Hits on enemies deal damage. Hits on allies heal.
Here’s the problem:
Throwing skills belonged to Warriors and Hunters. Priests had zero throwing abilities. Plus, the enchantment only worked on the caster’s own items. No trading allowed.
Meaning: an unbuffed Priest threw like any ordinary person. Even a trained soldier tossing grenades would struggle to hit targets precisely at 100 meters.
Let alone beyond.
So Holy Light Blessing was legendary for its uselessness. The most brain-dead skill design in the game. Players had torn it apart during the first beta leak. Only when devs called it an "entertainment easter egg, not a core skill" did the outrage fade.
After all, there were other joke skills: a Warrior’s 24-hour Fireball Spell chant, a Mage’s Taunt that required charging into an enemy’s face...
Holy Light Blessing was just another meme.
"...No idea how, but this Priest must’ve learned a throwing skill! Otherwise, that accuracy’s impossible. And that *Mass Throwing* skill—I’ve never seen it before! Damn it... *Mass Throwing* paired with *Holy Light Blessing*? It’s a bug-level combo! Accuracy doesn’t even matter! How broken is this guy?!"
In other words: every Priest’s impossible dream.
"Once that pea meteor shower hits our group—even if not every shot lands perfectly—the sheer volume will overwhelm us! Each pea carries Holy Light Blessing’s damage boost. Even blind spamming will turn us all into pincushions!"
Thoughts flashed in an instant.
This was a veteran team. Trained. Lightning-fast reflexes. They already knew the only solution.
A raw-throated scream ripped through the chaos:
"AMBUSH! TAKE COVER!"
Every crisis had a counter. Right! Hide behind cover! Somewhere the peas couldn’t reach! Simple. Effective.
Every player instantly aborted their half-cast attacks on us. They triggered their sole dash or sprint skill, bolting toward cover at top speed.
Peas pitter-pattered down like rain—hitting the ground, hitting Yingning and me.
Their reaction stunned me. In real life, no one would escape such dense AoE fire. But this was a game. Everyone here had superhuman reflexes.
"Master, run!" I pushed myself up.
Yingning snapped back to focus. No time for questions now. She nodded grimly.
She understood: whether my arrival was coincidence, whether the pea rain was my doing—there was only one choice left.
*Run.*
She’d been hunted relentlessly all day. My appearance offered escape. A chance to turn the tables.
Even if we didn’t kill those dozen players, the pea barrage created a smokescreen. A window to break their encirclement.
Peas struck us, but gentle white light rippled across our skin with each hit. Holy Light Blessing’s effect: damage to enemies, healing to allies.
Our HP bars surged back to full.
I turned to Yingning. She gripped the glowing green one-handed sword etched with golden runes. Her beginner’s cloth armor was gone. In its place: a full set of Green Warrior Gear, shimmering softly.
Not bulky plate armor. Mithril Soft Armor—woven from delicate mithril threads, hugging her curves. Under the holy bombardment’s stark white light, her midnight hair danced in the moonlight. Black and white. A brutal contrast.
Suddenly, her arm locked around my waist. My feet left the ground. Before I could react, I was cradled against her chest.
Hope had ignited in her eyes. They burned like stars—alive with a vigor I’d never seen.
But beneath that fire lay ice-cold resolve. And when her gaze met mine? A flood of heart-wrenching pain.
Her mithril-gauntleted hand slid through my hair, pulling me closer. Her thumb brushed the blood from my lips.
"It’s time to collect our debt," she growled, sprinting forward with me in her arms.
Yes. Time to collect.
Even if players here had superhuman abilities—I’d assassinated "supermen" before.
...But could you put me down first?
