The moment the ground split open, every militiaman standing on it felt their legs grow heavy—as if filled with lead—their movement forcibly slowed.
Immediately after, the Mutated Bamboo Boar King violently shook its head. Its massive tusks swept outward in a wide arc, sending all surrounding militiamen flying.
Lord Roland seethed with fury. He’d sent someone to check the Hunter’s Bulletin Board, but found nothing—no records of skills, no traits. They had no choice but to press the attack, gritting their teeth.
Yet Roland was certain of one thing: this creature would drop legendary loot. A hidden boss. He’d lived here over forty years and heard of it only three times—today was the first sighting. Maybe the recent blizzard weather had drawn it out.
So far, the militiamen sprawled across the ground with leg injuries revealed the Boar King’s first skill: a stomp that slowed all nearby attackers. Swarm tactics with low-level fighters were useless.
"O Divine One, bestow your grace upon your children!" Warm golden light shimmered over the fallen soldiers’ legs. Roland knew—his savior had arrived. The village priest, an eighth-level cleric.
The priest made a grand entrance: Bible in one hand, cross pressed to his lips, eyes slightly narrowed. He strode forward with deliberate steps, basking in the militiamen’s cheers like a master descending.
"Father, you're here at last!"
"My dear children! The Divine will protect you!" He raised his right hand. "Hold the line! I'll heal. We'll wear this beast down!"
"Perfect! Eighteen of us against one—with healing, we can't lose!" Roland was already picturing black-market merchants, a fat payout to cover his losses.
Hearing the commotion, Ke Er halted and gazed into the distance with other children.
"Wow! Look—the one with the wooden shield is my father!"
"My father’s the battle-axe wielder!"
"Are their dads all such cool militiamen? If only mine were that awesome too!" She shook her head rapidly. "No, no, no… Ke Er, you're just a peasant. Your father is too. Don't dream foolish dreams."
Just then—a mechanical wooden bird shot across the sky and slammed sideways into the healing priest.
*Crash!* Glass shattered. A rich, savory scent bloomed. Everyone recognized it: bamboo rabbit meat.
The priest’s eyes widened. "No—it's a trap!"
But the Mutated Bamboo Boar King, enraged by the scent, reared back and charged—Blizzard Charge!
Like a living cannonball, it plowed through soldiers blocking its path and barreled straight for the priest.
His majestic entrance lasted three seconds. Then—*whoosh*—flung airborne, crashing down. A "Stunned" debuff flashed on his status panel.
Shadows shifted. Three swordsmen darted forward. Three swift strikes. The priest’s HP hit zero.
"It's that Mechanist who sold the wooden birds this morning!" Borne cried, watching the three adventurers—arrived with the caravan, never left—step from the gloom.
Roland’s mind clicked. *They’d been scheming against him.*
His chest heaved. "Y-you… bandits!"
"Bandits?" The Mechanist smirked, slotting a Weakness potion into the bird’s rear. "Aren't *you*?"
He flicked his wrist. Four mechanical parrots—each with a potion wedged in its tail—darted kamikaze-style into the crowd.
Exhausted militiamen collapsed as four AoE Weakness potions detonated.
The Mutated Bamboo Boar King, battered down to 7% HP, took three damage potions. Now they just waited for the poison to finish it.
"Brothers! Brilliant plan, right? Made a killing without breaking a sweat!"
The swordsmen charged forward, slaughtered Lord Roland’s family, ransacked the ruins, and hauled out gold and jewels.
"Hahahaha! Rich! We're rich!"
Victory seemed sealed.
But at 5% HP—the Boar King reared upright, let out a sky-piercing roar. Weakened and Poisoned statuses vanished. A new icon glowed beneath its health bar: *Blizzard's Blessing!*
Its HP began regenerating.
"Impossible!" Unlike the stunned crowd, the Mechanist had done his homework. He knew this hidden skill—but it only triggered during the Witch’s emergence.
