Dylak stared at the man kneeling before her, equally perplexed and disgusted.

“W-What’s this? What are you planning?” she asked, before glancing at the others. 

The whole battlefield seems to have come to a sudden halt. Both enemies and participants alike stood frozen, staring at such a ludicrous scene.

“I’m offering my assistance to you, oh beautiful maiden,” Nicholas replied in a soft, calm voice. “So please, tell me, what is it that is afflicting you?”

Dylak narrowed her eyes. “Wait a minute. Did you say your last name was ‘Laflamme’?”

She pressed a hand against her ear and spoke through Private Chat. (Is this some kind of prank, First Officer?)

(ABSOLUTELY NOT!) Amelia replied. (I have nothing to do with that man! W-Well… that’s not entirely true. He’s… family. Unfortunately. But I can promise you I’m not involved in the slightest!)

(It wouldn’t be the first time you humans have pranked me.)

(Are you still mad about the Tabasco sauce incident? I already told you it was all Clara’s doing!)

(YOU TOLD HER?!) Clara chimed in. (You traitorous red-headed snake! Is that why she stopped talking to me for a week?! N-Never mind that for now. Listen, Dylak, dear—try not to break character again, please? We’ve entered the event’s climax, and we’re also offering entertainment—and you’re the featured star! So please, help us put on a good show for our subscribers, yes?)

“Hey, you, healer,” Dylak addressed Nicholas. “You said you wanted to help, right? Get rid of the rest of the participants for me. You’re in full control of those undead users, aren’t you? You have the advantage.”

Is she being serious?! The Shaman’s entire body tensed as he listened to the demand. And why is this Boss acting so bizarre? As if she isn’t following her script.

He shot a glare at Nicholas, who remained kneeling. I don’t know much about the guy—but at the same time, I have no doubt he’d accept such a ridiculous demand.

Meanwhile, Maude, who was also paying close attention to Nicholas’ decision, clicked her tongue, wondering if she would lose control of her body and be forced to hurt the others.

As for Nicholas, he studied every microexpression, every hand movement, every shift in Dylak’s tone.

I’ve never met an NPC like this before, he realized, swallowing hard. She acts so…

“…Truly unique and splendid,” he muttered, casting a quick glance back at the others. The participants—Allied NPCs and enemies alike—waited for his response.

He groaned, exasperated. “S-Sorry, my fair maiden! But I can’t do that!”

“Figures,” Dylak scoffed. “Then deactivate that skill that reflects my attacks. Let me give you a clean hit.”

“I-I’m not that fond of pain, you know? Sorry.”

“You’re useless to me, then,” Dylak declared, snapping her fingers.

The puppets immediately resumed their assault, pouncing on the others—the majority handled by Nicholas’ undead minions.

“I’m sorry, my new muse, but I have to win this,” Nicholas whispered to himself, pressing his hands against the ground and manipulating it until it took on the consistency of clay.

Dylak hurled two arachnid legs at him, trying to impale his chest—maybe physical attacks bypassed his magical defense—But Nicholas pulled the ground upward as if it were made of gum, shielding himself.

Dylak’s sharp legs pierced the goo-like material, which solidified a second later, trapping them.

“What’s this? What did you do?!”

Nicholas wasted no time. He leapt over the monstrous limbs, hand slipping inside his robe as he advanced toward the boss’s human torso.

Dylak watched in slow motion as he drew out a mage staff.

He had a clean opening. He could land a critical blow on her health bar.

She braced for it, covering herself with her human arms—but at the last moment, Nicholas shut his eyes and clenched his teeth.

“I can’t do this either,” he muttered.

With a swift use of his Unique Skill, he transmuted the staff into the shape of a large wooden rose and offered it to her.

Dylak stared at the beautifully carved object and frowned. A flash of anger ignited in her eyes.

“For how long… will you keep… humiliating me?!” she shrieked.

She lashed out with a free arachnid leg, hurling Nicholas across the battlefield. He slammed into the rocky wall, while one of his undead minions’ spines bent unnaturally, absorbing the impact in his stead.

Though he had taken no damage, Nicholas felt disoriented. He pressed a hand to his forehead as the slime humanoid acting as Guild Master rushed to his side.

“Are you hurt, Mr. Laflamme?”

“That anger…” Nicholas murmured as he stood. “It felt quite real. Like… womanly real…”

Sloochie knew exactly what Nicholas meant, yet said nothing. The Phantom Seekers had agreed to keep his and Dylak’s true nature as NUs—new advanced IAs—a secret.

The slime simply nodded. “Maybe she’s mad because you’ve been doing nothing but teasing her.”

“Teasing her?” Nicholas snapped, then sighed. “I’ve spoken nothing but the truth since we entered this Boss Chamber.”

“Hey, Laflamme!” Dylak called from the center of the stage. “You strike me as the kind of guy who’s up for any challenge, am I right?” She raised her arm toward the ceiling, summoning even more hanged puppets. “Are you ready for a little difficulty spike?”

“Oh, for the love of—!” Edward groaned from afar. “You enraged the boss! Thanks a lot, Nick!”

“Yeah, right… As if a Second Phase battle wasn’t planned from the start,” Nicholas muttered.

He glanced at Dylak, who met his gaze with a piercing glare. She then commanded two massive coffins to erupt from the ground. From them emerged two thirteen-foot-tall puppets.

“Um… although I must admit, she does look a little pissed.” Nicholas sighed. “Maximum effort, then.”

Regardless of the incoming chaos, Nicholas slapped his cheeks and casually began to stretch.

His resolve inspired Sloochie, who clenched his fists and said, “Mr. Laflamme, please! Tell me what to do. I can fight too!”

“Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to be kept safe at all costs?” Nicholas shot him a stern look before snickering and patting his gelatinous back. “Kidding. When I’m on the battlefield, you’re already under my protection. So listen up—we need Lady Dylak distracted for a while. That might be the most dangerous task of all.”

“I can do it! I’ve fought her during training a bunch of times. I know her ‘Professor’ combat style to a T.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Although she always kicks my butt, regardless of which form she uses…”

“I didn’t hear a thing. Now go!”

Brimming with vigor, the slime charged forward, using his elastic body to weave between the puppets rushing in the opposite direction.

The clash began instantly.

The undead under Nicholas’ command held the vanguard. Hugo’s Avatar, the Druid, proved especially effective against the horde, summoning thick vines from beneath the earth to act as barriers and slow the enemy’s advance.

“We’ll cover our Guild Master,” Anastasia said urgently, turning toward Nicholas.

He shook his head. “I said he’s under my protection now.” Nicholas pointed at one of the massive puppets, which was tearing itself free from its confinement. “Take care of that instead.”

Anastasia studied his serious expression for a moment, then nodded and followed his command.

Another female NPC with turquoise hair approached him. “Should I engage the other one, then?”

“Could you do that for me, sweetheart?”

“It would be a pleasure,” Bella replied, performing a curtsy.

Nicholas watched her graceful movement and chuckled quietly. 

She’s the same NPC who was accompanying my dear niece just a few hours ago, isn’t she? I found her quite hot back then—Just my type. But now that I’ve met Lady Dylak…

He exhaled before Edward interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh. Hello, neighbor.” Nicholas smiled.

“So what, are you taking control now?” Edward hissed.

“Ah, sorry for not consulting you first.”

Edward clicked his tongue. “Is this your way of doing things, Nick? Bringing disaster, then scoring points for solving it?” Edward pursed his lips and caught the exact moment Nicholas smirked, clearly about to deliver something snarky. “Save it,” Edward cut in. “You’re the one who brought the Impostor—which I bet you knew about all along. And you’ve been poking the Boss with a stick! You may think you’re in control of everything, but—!”

“Oh, I’d love to poke Lady Dylak with something other than a stick,” Nicholas muttered and Edward shot him an exasperated glare. “Hey, I know you don’t like me,” Nicholas continued, raising his hands, “but this isn’t the time to argue. You’re treating me to a fine steak later, remember? We’ll talk then.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Besides, this is your moment to shine. Command the others while I focus on… healing.”

“What?” Edward scoffed. “Are you telling me you’re going to stay here, exclusively as support? You?”

“At the end of the day, I’m nothing but a backline support. Obviously. Isn’t it the same for you?”

Edward’s jaw tightened, a dozen retorts dying on his tongue. Finally, he turned away. “Fine.”

Nicholas held back his grin and began casting. A dark aura enveloped his body.

“Super Dark Conjure,” he intoned, briefly surveying the battlefield and his allies. “It’s curious how Lady Dylak’s Ariadne’s spell is kind of similar to what I can do.” He chuckled softly. “Baldrian Prerogative! Target: living allies. Current ‘Mistletoe’: me!”

Ethereal chains erupted from Nicholas’ chest, lashing outward in all directions and connecting to each of his allies through their backs—even the two female NPCs and Sloochie. Only his undead minions were excluded.

Edward received a notification.

Edward read the message and groaned. “Bullshit!”

He looked back toward Nicholas—but a sudden yelp drew his attention. One of his teammates had been struck by a puppet with such force that he was thrown onto his back.

“Watch out!” Edward shouted, kicking the puppet away. “Are you—?” He stopped mid-sentence.

The teammate stood up, his HP bar glowing fully green. “What the System Message said is true!” he shouted. “I’m invulnerable!”

“W-What? You got that too?” another healer asked.

“So it applies to everyone?!”

“We can fight these puppets head-on, then!”

Edward felt his soul leave his body. He wanted to scream, Don’t get any funny ideas! We shouldn’t rely on that guy for anything—especially not something this… broken!

But one look at the incoming wave of enemies made him swallow his pride.

“Get into formation!” Edward barked. “We’re pushing forward!”

On the opposite side of the battlefield, two figures clashed with such violence that fresh craters formed in the ground and walls.

Fabio—the NPC acting as the traitor—played his role to perfection, fighting with lethal intent. He closed distances in the blink of an eye, dodging every bullet fired his way.

“Just stay still!” Maude yelled as she fired her shotgun three more times.

Fabio’s silhouette blurred as he zigzagged forward, ending his movement with an electrically charged punch to her gut.

Maude doubled over. System warnings flooded her vision, alerting her to the critical damage sustained by her cyborg body.

Only three punches, and I’m already at thirty percent HP.That’s bullshit! She grit her teeth. I know this test nerfs our levels, but this is ridiculous!

As one knee hit the ground, Maude assessed her options.

Retreating meant leaving the others to deal with the Impostor alone.

Asking Nicholas for help? Impossible…

She paused. Wait. Why would that even be a problem? I’m already at his mercy.

She searched her interface for an open channel and found one labeled ‘Death Line’.

Seriously?

She tapped it.

Nicholas answered instantly. (Hello there, minion.)

(Oh, fuck you!)

(Is that how you speak to your Master? What’s up?)

(Buff me. I know you can.)

(I didn’t hear a ‘pretty please.’)

(I don’t have time for this!)

(First let me—whoa! What happened to your HP?! You’re currently being excluded from ‘Shared Pain’, and you already have Passive Lifesteal. What gives?!)

(What’s Shared Pain?)

(My bread and butter. Don’t worry about it for now.)

(Thanks for the special treatment. I guess. But what good is Lifesteal if I can’t even hit him?!)

(I could give you a steroid—literally, as an injection. But I can’t move from my position, and I doubt wolf-ears over there would let me approach you.)

(Heal me then, you cheapskate.)

(Can’t. My healing doesn’t work on undead minions. Blame the Administrator of Balance.)

(I-I can deliver the shot to Maude,) a timid voice cut in. (If you want…)

(Oliver? Is that you?) Maude asked. (If so—yes. Please.)

(W-With pleasure! I’ll go grab it!)

(Fine.) Nicholas sighed. (Give me a minute to concoct it.)

The entire exchange lasted barely three seconds—the only mercy Fabio allowed.

He lunged again.

Maude rolled aside as the ground cracked beneath his impact. Pebbles flew, one grazing her cheek.

A minute of surviving this asshole? Plus the time it’ll take Oliver to come here.

She tore off the tattered cloak she had taken from a fallen teammate, exposing her damaged chrome body, and began gathering mana.

Screw this! I lost this competition the moment that bomb killed me. So I’m fine with honoring my end of the bargain and making sure the pony-tailed jerk wins!

“Super Electric Boost,” she began, crimson lightning enveloping her frame. “Overdrive!”

“I DON’T CARE!” she roared.

She dodged a punch and countered instantly, driving her fist into Fabio’s chin.

The impact rattled her metallic frame, but she smiled.

No one knows my limits better than me.

She unleashed a rapid barrage—ten strikes in under two seconds—each one landing on vital points.

Fabio spat blood. His HP: 70%.

He attempted to power up—but Maude swept his legs out from under him and mounted him in one smooth motion.

“ALL STATS TO AURA!” she suddenly barked to her User Interface.

The first punch shattered Fabio’s nose.

The second sealed his left eye.

Each strike grew heavier than the last.

Sixth.

Eighth.

Twelfth.

Fabio’s fan-favorite face was ruined.

Heat radiated from Maude’s core, her body glowing incandescent. A sizzling sound rose from beneath Fabio’s stomach.

Red paint splashed across her chromed skeleton.

Outside the test, the judges’ room erupted into chaos. The guest idol struggled to restrain a hysterical Clara, who kicked and screamed at the video feed.

The chat, however, was enthralled.

Whether Nicholas had forced her hand or not, they chose to believe this carnage was Maude alone.

She had gotten new fans.

Seven seconds later, as Fabio’s HP bar dwindled to a single blinking pixel, she froze.

Her systems locked. Her whole frame fumed.

Oliver skidded to a halt beside her. “Maude! I’ve got the shot! Let me—” He stopped.

Her HP was just as critical as Fabio’s.

“You use it,” she whispered. “Help that asshole. We promi—”

Her body dissolved into pixels, finally free from Nicholas’ control.

Oliver pressed the syringe to his own chest and surveyed the battlefield.

Twelve against a small army.

Fabio, now standing with one ruined eye, met his gaze.

“Godspeed,” he said, and vanished.

Oliver snickered. “The contest is almost over, and I barely did anything.”

Nicholas heard him through their private channel. (Why not leave with a bang, then?)

“Oh, I’d love that,” Oliver said softly. “To be the center of attention—for at least a couple of minutes.”

He injected himself, and the surge of power immediately rushing through him made him smile.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep