Re: Level 100 Farmer - Chapter 324

Who-who are you?” began Mason as he witnessed Old Thane utterly manhandle the giants.

“Shut your mouth, little lad, and raise your shield for your brother,” said Old Thane. He trudged forwards, and this time, the giants stopped, having seen how easily they were man handled.

“This…this is demonic magic,” said Asala. “I must hold down a great urge to withdraw mine tablet. Were there no danger to divert mine attention, I shouldst be writing – it is a rare sight indeed to witness demonic magic, especially of this caliber.”

“Demon?” Vilga cocked her head as she peered at Old Thane. “Not like a normal demon. There is no rage. No hunger.”

“Not all demons are creatures of base desire, baring hatred and foul negativity,” explained Asala. “Some are far more refined. Such as that one.” She pointed her staff to Old Thane. “And well hidden. No trace of such magical energy didst I sense even once before this time from that one.”

“Demon or no demon, does this mean we get to survive?” said Mercer with bated breath.

“Or do we trust the demon, knowing how their kind is?” began Mason, and Sheela nodded along with him.

“Lad, if ye don’t trust me, then go ahead without me. See how long ye live,” said Old Thane. “That goes for the little kitten with ye too.”

With that, Old Thane charged forwards as a blur. With his physical stats restored, no, further enhanced, he could access the many stat gated skills and powers of his subclasses. He leaped up in the air, both fists high up, and then slammed them down into a hammering strike on the head of a fire giant.

An earth splitting shock shot out from the blow, and when the giant’s head slammed into the ground, it split the ground with deep cracks as if a meteorite had crashed into it.

“Looks like my [Hammer of Wrath] is still in top performance,” said Old Thane. He turned to the party and shouted at them, his teeth bared in sharp fangs. “Get a move on! Forwards! Forwards! To the lad!”

While he was distracted, a fire giant stabbed into Old Thane’s back, and the flaming sword of the monster seared through Old Thane’s flesh and split through to the other side.

Old Thane looked down at the enormous blade jutting out from his gut. Blood trickled from his lips.

“Gods! They’ve taken him down!” said Mercer as Mason stood in front of his younger brother, shield upraised in desperate last defense.

Old Thane just laughed. A mighty, hearty laugh.

The fire giant behind Old Thane cocked his head in confusion and tried to pull his blade out, but found that it was stuck, as if embedded into the trunk of a mighty oak.

“Glad to have abs again,” said Old Thane as he looked down at his rock hard abdominal muscles where before there had been a gut from retirement. The muscles clenched, holding the flame sword in his gut tight.

With a smirk, Old Thane brought his fist down on the flame sword and snapped it in half. The bladed half of the sword fell down to his foot, and he kicked it up in the air before moving forwards, taking the rest of the blade embedded in him out.

He then leaped in the air and kicked the blade in the air backwards, sending it flying backwards, embedding it straight in the fire giant’s head.

Old Thane landed on the ground and wiped blood from his lips roughly, smearing red all over his face. His pupils, narrowed into predatory slits, showed only the rush of excitement. A red aura of rage flickered all around him, converting his damage into additional stats via a Berserker class passive known as [Battle Rage].

“Berserkers do not die from a mere flesh wound like that, lads,” said Old Thane to the amazed faces of Mason and Mercer. “Take care if ye go to the north that you remember this, lest you anger a Berserker’s pride and feel their fist upon yer pale southern faces.”

With that, Old Thane whirled around and continued his charge forwards. The giants were hesitant to approach, but Old Thane kept up.

“What’s wrong, giants!?” he shouted as he slammed into the legs of another giant, toppling it down before jumping on the giant’s head and then unleashing a volley of heavy blows on his helmeted face. “Come forwards! Show me the might of the Jotun that I have descended from!”

“These are not Jotun, mortal,” said Zagan calmly, correcting Old Thane. “They are Musphelites. Demons like this personage. The only commonality between the two are prodigious size.”

“Oh, that so? Sorry for lumping you all in together,” said Old Thane.

“No matter,” said Zagan. “I sense the scent of corruption within them. Kill them, mortal, and kill them without prejudice. Leave but one alive for this personage to question.”

“Kill? Gladly,” said Old Thane. He cracked his knuckles as he stepped forwards, eager to bash in another giant head. He looked around to the flaming forest around him. “All this destruction on so much green. The lad must have been holding back so very much on ye. To save ye for his cause.

But I have no such patience.”

The rest of the party watched as Old Thane pressed forwards, savaging the rest of the giants. He fought like a wild beast, not caring at all of damage, only ever evading strikes directly to his head or heart. All other strikes, he simply bore, gaining large cuts and burns a plenty.

All the while, Old Thane just smiled and laughed, blood drooling from his mouth as he shouted for more and more. He broke bones, pulled out entrails, smashed skulls, and even crushed a heart.

“The demon has corrupted him,” remarked Mason in utter awe as he kept his shield up, less so in fear of the giants now, but in fear of Old Thane.

“No,” said Vilga. Her arms were crossed as she peered ahead with her steely gray eyes, calm now from her battle hunger. “He is like me. Possessing of hunger for the fight. For some, the hunger consumes them. For others, it can be controlled.

When the battle is over, he will be back.”

“What do we do until then?” said Mercer.

“You watch. Unless you wish to be struck by him,” said Vilga flatly.