Read Adventurer Tale of Pouring 25 Years of Life into a Useless Skill, and Now After All That Time is the Strongest | 223 - - The Order of Merit, which is handed down from generation to generation.

223 - - The Order of Merit, which is handed down from generation to generation.

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　The noxious mist that floats in the swamp of ghosts gradually drains the physical and magical strength of those who touch it.

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　However, this is only in a diluted state, mixed with the normal atmosphere.

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　It is said that exposure to the witch's breath up close will cause unparalleled damage.

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　It is even recorded that in the blink of an eye, the witch's body was drained of all power, and she died quietly, unable to move.

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　Naturally, even though there is still some distance between them and the site, they would not be safe if their entire bodies were immersed in such a thick miasma.

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　A silence that does not allow for even a moan envelops the surroundings, and a slow death is not brought about.

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"From the treetops of the Flame Tree, come..."

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　A whispered prayer from someone suddenly broke the white silence.

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　At the same time, a ball of light was produced to illuminate the surroundings, making several figures appear in the fog.

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　Despite the thick miasma, the shadows moved about without a care in the world.

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　A ball of light is produced one after the other, and in no time at all, the vision that had been closed to us is restored to clarity.

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　The second-in-command, who was clutching her spear tightly, breathed a deep sigh of relief at the sight of the shadows.

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"It's really amazing, isn't it? It's hard to believe we're in the fog."

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"Let's go ............."

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　Sorrugum, who was holding a two-handed axe, grasps the situation and speaks shortly.

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　The leader started to move, followed one by one by the nervous-looking youths.

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　The thunder roar group, which had been standing back, came forward at once, and a considerable number of people gathered on the red log floor.

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　Perhaps sensing their presence, the giants surrounding the group lifted their heads in unison.

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　They began to move slowly on the mud.

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　Sorrugum inhaled the white mist deep into his lungs as he faced the approaching monsters.

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　He roars like a bull, and rushes forward with his great axe raised.

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　With a movement so refined that it bears no resemblance to his large stature, he slices off the ankle of the giant on the log in a brilliant motion.

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　The five following men thrust their spears at the off-balanced monster in a single, unruffled movement.

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　This time, the giant's waist is gouged out and it easily falls to the ground on its hands.

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　Normally, the monster would have sucked up the mud under its feet and stood up as if nothing had happened.

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　But in this situation, cut off from the swamp, that was not the case.

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　It only struggles to get back on its feet, shaking its body.

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　Then Sorrugum closes the distance again and swings his two-handed axe down from the top.

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　Five spears are thrust out in a flowing motion, piercing deeply into the torso of the giant whose head has been shattered.

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　The axes are swung out again, and the giant stops moving, splattering mud all over the place.

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　Sorrugum, who lunged first, crushes his opponent, and the spears strike at once into the opening created.

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　This was the basic battle strategy of the Thunderclaws.

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　However, their coordination was too well coordinated.

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　It is one thing to be able to show more strength than usual after all these years, but there is a more obvious reason why the young men are moving so well.

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　And it was not only the thunder roars that were in good form.

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　The flame wielders showed no signs of exhaustion even as they unleashed a series of magic moves.

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　The same goes for the water users who continue to heal their poisoned bodies.

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　The reason for this was the fog surrounding the sorrugum.

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　Just by being in contact with this white cold air, one's strength and magic power gushes forth without pause.

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　The witch's breath, which had so often tormented adventurers challenging the swamps, was now lending a great deal of strength.

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　The purple-eyed giant smiled slightly inwardly at the irony of this situation.

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　The image of the dark-haired girl comes to his mind.

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　--Read at https://w w w . m t l r e a d e r.com

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　This unheard of magic technique is said to be able to overturn anything that comes from the monster.

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　Not just its movements, but even its effects.

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　And of course, the witch's breath, called corrosive mist, is no exception.

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　Strengthened beyond belief, the "Bearers of the Burning Flame" and the members of the Thundercrow began to mercilessly reap the mud-poisoning giants that were rushing toward them.

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　The battle must have lasted an hour.

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　Already nearly thirty monsters had turned to mud.

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　The witches spat mist at us several times during the battle, but all of these only served to reinforce the sorrugum.

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　But, as the lore goes, the witches are not so naive.

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　Every time their huge bodies shook, new giants were spawned one after another.

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　Their numbers grow and outnumber those that are defeated.

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　Before long, the mud-poisoned giants were so numerous that they filled the area around the log floor.

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　The young men almost drop the tips of their spears to the ground at the sight of this gruesome sight.

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　But Sorrugum, with all the strength he could muster on his massive back, silently faced the monsters.

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　The Purple-Eyed Tribe is basically a meritocracy.

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　Those who excel in their abilities come to the front and lead the others.

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　Therefore, they believe that if they keep working hard and improving themselves, they can keep moving forward.

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　Believing this, Sorlgam trained himself and encouraged those around him to do the same.

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　He believed that if he followed this path, he would someday reach the level of a vigor class and eventually become a great man.

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　However, this idea is easily overturned by the appearance of the twin warriors and the lightning master.

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　Of course, they have made their fair share of efforts.

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　But it was their overwhelming talent that allowed Kikiriri and Nenemimi to push aside the sorrugum and advance to the Kongo class first.

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　And this time, they easily took advantage of the foggy weather.

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　The fact that he had to expose himself to the fog over and over again in order to get used to the load made him feel like a fool.

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　No matter how hard ordinary people try, they are no match for someone with extraordinary talent.

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　All that we have accumulated up to now is nothing but our own self-satisfaction.

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　No matter how much you train yourself...

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　Sorrugum gritted his teeth as he was about to say the next words.

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　Not yet.

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　It is too early to say that.

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　The emotions that well up in him are mingled with an overflowing fighting spirit.

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　Sorlgam's anger, threatening to burst from within, is channeled into the weapons he holds in his hands.

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　Ahead of him, giants approach in a swarm.

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　Slowly the two-handed axes lifted, pointing straight up to the heavens.

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　Black clouds quickly gather overhead, as if in response to Sorrugum's fighting spirit.

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　At the same time, the shining axes rose like lighthouses in the white mist.

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　Sorrugum calmly observes that his companions have moved away and takes a deep breath.

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　He then swung down on the monster that filled his field of vision.

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　--Read at https://w w w . m t l r e a d e r.com

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　An eye-burning radiance emanates from the thunderclouds, piercing the mists and pouring down upon the monsters.

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　There is a roar, and the evaporated mud is instantly scattered.

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　A peculiar odor fills the air.　

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　After the thunderstorm subsides, the giants appear, their upper halves missing and slumped over.

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　They crumpled up on the red logs and returned to a mass of filthy mud.

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　The sub-commanders watched with bated breath, their mouths agape with admiration.

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　Then, as if following the leader, they regained a firm grip on their spears once more.

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　And the witch also could not overlook the movement.

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　Slowly, a small mountain-like body shakes, and then a foot-like lump of mud takes a step forward.

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　It was the moment when the men who had been forced to stay in the silver class moved the existence of lore.

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