NABC Chapter 214 214: Do You Really Like 1V1, NPC?
Chapter 214 214: Do You Really Like 1V1, NPC?
Among the three melee classes—thief, knight, and warrior—the warrior's attack speed is between that of the thief and the knight, with a well-rounded balance between offense and defense. However, this well-rounded nature also makes the warrior a somewhat mediocre class by design.
In warrior-on-warrior battles, those who take the initiative to attack are usually the ones who get countered and crushed. If they fail to establish dominance with their first strike, it's easy for the opponent to take control, especially in battles between skilled players.@@@@
"This is impossible!"
The War Saint Darkbo reappeared, his expression filled with shock, and the entire arena of skulls fell silent.
"Impossible? Your skill timing and adaptability? You're not even as good as Reaver," Orson said with a smile.
"Reaver?"
Darkbo's expression was full of confusion, to which Orson shrugged and explained, "A walking target."
Before becoming a Trialist, Orson was merely the Sword and Conquest Triple Crown winner. He could still wield the warrior class and easily dominate the top ten magic swordsman in the US, Reaver, with nothing but ragged gear and a worthless Soul Seal. Surviving two years in the apocalypse with only a mastery of the mage class wasn't enough. His knowledge of the warrior class was just the tip of the iceberg in his "profession pool."
The screen flickered once more, and Darkbo growled in frustration. The skulls in the stands began to murmur again.
"Battle begins!"
"You have drawn the Archer class!"
"You can freely choose weapons, skills, and styles."
The prompt rang out. Orson wore a playful smile as he muttered to himself, "If you had drawn Priest, you might have had time to stall. Archer... I'm familiar with that."
In his past life, he was relentlessly hunted by the strongest archer, Usher, the ruler of the US battle zone. Whenever Orson closed his eyes, he could replay every movement Usher made, from every basic attack to each skill, as if it were burned into his mind.
Every movement, every breath, every possible moment to strike—how could he not memorize it all, engrave it into his very bones? As a mage class specialist, in some ways, Orson understood warriors better than most warriors and archers better than most archers.
This gladiatorial battlefield set up by War Saint Darkbo seemed tailor-made for Orson.
The weapons table refreshed, and Orson casually picked up a tough cowhorn bow. This time, he wasn't seeking a surprise attack or trying to control the pace of the fight. He raised the bow and pointed it at Darkbo.
"You've hit a wall."
"You arrogant fool!"
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Darkbo, who had fought alongside God-Emperor for a thousand years, immediately became enraged. He drew a crossbow and fired multiple arrows at once. Five enchanted arrows shot toward Orson, accompanied by the howls of countless angry skeletons.
The prompt rang out. Orson didn't feel much joy. It was a bit too boring.
The screen flickered once again.
"I... how could I lose so completely? This is impossible!"
Darkbo, a super-strong NPC with a powerful background setting, was now drenched in sweat. The young man across from him was so overwhelmingly strong that it felt utterly hopeless.
"Magician! I'll definitely win against a Magician! I'm God-Emperor's personal guard. I've been personally instructed by His Majesty, God-Emperor!" Darkbo clenched his teeth, silently praying in his heart.
When it came to his gladiatorial skills, maybe a god-level player would defeat him, considering they were more proficient in their own class. But the real challenge lay in facing a class they didn't understand, let alone master.
Unfortunately for Darkbo, he was up against a freak with a 99% correct rate on the opening server questionnaire.
This was the tragic fate of God-Emperor's personal guard.
"Battle begins!"
"You have drawn the Mage class!"
"You can freely choose weapons, skills, and styles."
With the class locked in, Darkbo couldn't help but burst into delighted laughter. "Adventurer, you can't escape your fate! The Mage style, I have never been defeated!"
Orson stared blankly at the screen for a moment, scratched his head, and laughed. "Uh... that's a coincidence, I've never lost either."
Watching Darkbo eagerly await the weapon refresh, Orson nearly burst out laughing.
In this 1v1 fair duel mode, equipment, extra attribute points, and personal skills were all unavailable.
But...
That didn't mean Soul Seal was off-limits.
Orson flashed a sinister smile, then began to retreat. Darkbo looked on in confusion.
Soon, Orson had backed up nearly a kilometer, and a weapon platform appeared beside him.
Orson casually picked up a firewood stick of unknown origin, too lazy to even select a skill. His skill panel only showed a basic fireball.
"Ready for a satisfying beatdown?"