I've Become the King of Villains in the Game-Chapter 333 - 232 Mechanical Descension of the Gods

Chapter 333: Chapter 232 Mechanical Descension of the Gods

Laisley’s expression froze, her eyes filled with astonishment and confusion.

Her body slumped softly to the ground.

Chen Lun raised his hand and cast the “Levitation” magic, slowly retrieving the Kazt Longsword he had swapped places with.

He had pretended his heart was crushed, throwing the Kazt Longsword. Although it did not stab Laisley, he used the “Great Human Transformation” magic to swap positions and crushed her throat in one grip.

After waiting briefly where he was, until the bodies of the three Executioners had turned into Mysterious Objects, Chen Lun collected them all, not bothering to examine them closely before charging directly towards two other “battle circles.”

Mr. Pot was fighting against four by himself, his punches and kicks grand and powerful, his blood energy so tumultuous and mighty that it left the four Executioners struggling to breathe.

...

Encumbered by curses and disease, the Executioners were already on the brink of collapse. Defeat and death were just a matter of time.

The arrival of Chen Lun directly shortened this time.

“Silver Pot Knight Flun has arrived, fellows, behold the sword!”

He laughed heartily, charging directly into the midst of the four people, swinging his sword with might as if casting aside concern for his own life, fearless.

In reality, Chen Lun had already covertly covered himself with Didak Armor on various parts of his body, so even if he were to take the attacks of these ‘sickly’ Executioners head-on, it was of no concern.

The four of them had their expressions change drastically.

Clang! Clang Clang Clang!!

A man and a woman turned to block Chen Lun’s swift sword with their sleeve. A short sword sprang from each of their sleeves, seemingly the standard issue of the Shelter.

“Cough cough…!”

The woman, beset by supernatural disease, suddenly began to cough up blood, the block with her sleeve sword becoming feeble.

Chen Lun took the opportunity to flicker to her side, his sword piercing her heart.

Hiss!

“Kaley!”

The three Executioners cried out the woman’s name, their expressions filled with shock.

Mr. Pot laughed loudly a few times, taking a step forward and rotating clockwise to dodge two black light beams, at the same time his shoulder collided with the man’s chest.

The man spat out blood, and Chen Lun then thrust his longsword into the man’s abdomen.

The Executioner’s eyes bulged, a fierce light crossing his face as he desperately turned his right arm into a shadow, spreading along Chen Lun’s longsword, aiming straight for Chen Lun’s heart.

Clang!

The shadow transformed into a blade but failed to even scratch the skin.

“How… how is this possible?!”

The man caught a glimpse of the pale pieces of armor flashing beneath Mr. Pot’s white shirt, his face showing defeat.

Chen Lun lifted his longsword, spilling the man open from the middle, blood spraying.

The man fell to the ground with a thud.

With two comrades down, the remaining two Executioners were soon killed by Mr. Pot.

Chen Lun went over to treat Mr. Pot’s wounds and then, picking up the spoils of war, led the Bottle and Pot into the final battle circle.

Before Chen Lun and Bottle Pot arrived, three Executioners besieging Akebin Drake had already perished, leaving only the last two of Sequence Six struggling desperately.

Chen Lun inwardly praised Akebin and Drake, pleased they had not let him down. Particularly Akebin, who was the central figure of the battle—without his supernatural disease erosion, the fight would not have ended so swiftly.

When the tables turned and the two Executioners found themselves surrounded by five powerful enemies, their mood soured, pressure surging in their hearts like a tidal wave.

They didn’t consider fleeing, for it wasn’t realistic.

Their only path of survival hinged on whether their leader, Talelang, could quickly defeat Bales, turn around and join the fray, potentially turning the tide while also holding down these foes.

The two Executioners exchanged glances, tacitly deciding to buy time, dragging out the fight until their leader’s battle concluded.

One of them was a “Moon Faction Sequence Six – Nightwalker.” He raised his hands high and pulled down forcefully, causing the surroundings to suddenly darken.

This ability was somewhat similar to the “Night Domain” created by the Dark Knight, but its range and effects were far from comparable. The other Executioner was a “Magic Faction Sequence Six – Arcanist,” his fingers adorned with rings bearing red and blue gemstones, pointing around him.

“Banish Light.”

He uttered two words.

The already dim environment instantly turned pitch black; from a distance, it appeared similar, albeit smaller, to the Dark Knight’s Black Sphere.

The Arcanist did not cease casting. He pointed at his comrade and silently incanted:

“Barrier.”

A highly compressed current of air formed around the two, like a protective wall, providing a significant sense of security.

Finally, the Arcanist pointed to the ground, releasing his last magic:

“Ripple.”

In their perception, five invisible waves moved from the front, intersecting with their bodies.

This was their way of sensing opponents in the dark, leveraging their own advantage. With their collaboration, they could stall their adversaries for a considerable time within this domain.

“Drake, don’t go too far, just stay with me.”

Akebin whispered softly.

“Got it, you pest!”

Drake positioned himself beside Akebin, breathing slightly heavily, his face showing impatience as he lit a cigarette and began to smoke.

“Using Nightfall to obscure vision and perception?”

Akebin shook his head slightly, as he reached into the pockets inside his coat and pulled out six vials of serum, tossing them randomly around.

Raising the density of disease in the area would ensure that no matter where the opponents hid, they would continuously suffer erosion.

But as a figure dashed rapidly past, the twirling vials in the air vanished without a trace, and Akebin’s eyes narrowed as he said:

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