Chapter 220: ·Patriarch of Decay, Rosm
Because I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.
Nolan ground his teeth inwardly. In his previous life, no one knew how or when the Foundation of Life had been contaminated, but everyone knew it was Rosm’s doing. Now that he had a clear target, how could he possibly let this chance slip by?
Of course, this was his greatest secret, one he couldn’t reveal outright.
“Good acting?” Nolan curled his lip. “Don’t flatter yourself. Captain Romina’s earlier words reminded me that the last time outsiders set foot in Forest Home was at least ten years ago. Judging by the level of contamination, the timeline simply doesn’t match. From that moment on, I knew someone was hiding among the Wood Elves. I just couldn’t pinpoint who. The Elder Sind you controlled was overacting. It was practically written across her forehead that she was looking for trouble. That little act of retreating before advancing was fairly convincing.”
Nolan’s smile grew bigger..
“And you? You were too low-key. As one of the elders, you didn’t say a single word from beginning to end, as if you wanted to shrink yourself into thin air. Is that normal? I can only say you’re suited for exaggerated performances on a stage. Real life doesn’t suit you very well.”
Rosm showed no reaction, merely shaking his head with a trace of regret, as if Nolan hadn’t exposed his scheme but was instead offering a harsh critique of his acting.
Ignoring him, Nolan continued, “Still, I have to give you some credit. You’ve got some skill. You even managed to infiltrate an organization like the Rus Empire’s Undercurrent. Your Nihility Cult has quite a wide reach, and you’ve been able to lurk silently in the Wood Elves’ stronghold for so long.”
When he finished speaking, Nolan raised Mountain’s Resonance in his hand, the blade pointing straight at Rosm’s brow.
“Now, restore Elder Sind. I can promise you a quick death.”
At this point, their positions had reversed. Nolan said all this to create the illusion that he had Rosm completely under control, hoping to intimidate him.
This man was no minor pawn.
One of the Nihility Cult’s Six Pillars—the Patriarch of Decay, Rosm. In the game, he was a level 71 boss, his strength approaching that of an awakened Origin.
With his current divine gear and the bonuses from three hidden classes, Nolan wasn’t afraid of facing him. Still, the glaring level gap remained, and this group was infamous for their endless tricks. Nolan couldn’t be sure whether their “settings” were exactly the same as in the game.
After all, both the Yuri the Executioner and the Frost Wolf Fenrir had already shown notable differences. He had to be cautious.
Yet after hearing Nolan’s “final ultimatum,” Rosm paused for a moment—then suddenly burst into wild laughter.
“Heh… hahaha! Restore?”
He laughed so hard his body shook violently. The layer of skin disguising him as the Schefflera elder began to crack and peel away, revealing his nauseating true form beneath.
His face was completely rotten, his features twisted together and oozing yellow-green pus. It was painful just to look at, yet he seemed utterly indifferent. The elder’s robe on his body dissolved under some corrosive fluid, exposing a similarly decayed torso beneath, where even writhing organs could be seen.
An indescribable stench spread outward from him.
The surrounding Wood Elves retreated one after another, their faces filled with horror and revulsion. The stone floor beneath his feet sizzled as it was slowly corroded into pitted holes.
“You think she can be restored?” Rosm spread his arms, basking in the fear of the crowd. “To infiltrate and earn their trust, I possessed the ridiculously naive son of the previous Schefflera elder while he was still alive, then successfully ascended to the position a year ago. As for Elder Sind, I’ve controlled her for over ten years! Her soul has long been eroded by my power, weakened to the brink of dissipation! That impressive moon elf just severed the mental link between us with wind pressure. But look at her—has she recovered? Hahaha!”
His words were even more revolting than his body.
Finley, who had been tending to his mother, snapped his head back, his teeth nearly shattering from the force of his clenched jaw. On the couch, Elder Sind still lay with her eyes closed, lifeless.
“Speaking of which, she really was a gullible fool.” Rosm seemed to relish crushing others’ hopes as he continued smugly, “Back then, with the help of Faceless, I poisoned the real Schefflera elder and disguised it as a natural death. Unfortunately, the Flourishing Leaves family’s natural protective formation was too troublesome, and I couldn’t find a chance to break through. And then? I just casually made up a lie about a clansman being gravely injured. Who would have thought that do-gooder would rush over in the middle of the night and walk straight into my trap? Can you imagine how excited I was at the time? So easy to deceive. Thanks to her, I spent nine years fully studying the principles of the Foundation of Life.”
Hearing this, the Elder Ironwood trembled with rage, his teeth grinding audibly.
But no one’s anger surpassed Finley’s. His mother… though somewhat rigid and old-fashioned, had always taught him to be kind and brave, to protect their people.
Yet this disgusting monster had controlled her for an entire decade using such despicable means and even used her to corrupt the sacred Foundation of Life!
The Grand Elder seemed to notice Finley’s near-breaking state and hurriedly said, “Finley, wait—”
Before he could finish, Finley had already moved. Ignoring everything, he yanked open the massive bow in his hands.
The bowstring stretched into a perfect full moon. His right hand blurred into afterimages as arrows infused with natural energy shot out in rapid succession.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
This was the archery technique he had learned from Romina—Rainstorm Volley.
He was considered fairly skilled, though still inferior to the strongest, Romina. For years, his Rainstorm Volley had been stuck at seven consecutive arrows, unable to progress further due to insufficient strength. But now, fueled by boundless rage and grief, he released twelve arrows in a single breath. This result was already very close to Romina’s record of fifteen.
Twelve streaks of green light tore through the air and arrived in an instant. Rosm’s manic laughter hadn’t even faded before he was completely engulfed by the sudden rain of arrows.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Finley’s aim was precise. He didn’t target the heart or head. He wanted this creature to die in the most excruciating pain possible. The twelve arrows struck Rosm’s limbs, shoulders, abdomen, and every spot that would cause intense agony without killing him instantly. The tremendous impact blasted apart his already rotting flesh, sending fragments flying. His barely human body was pinned by the force of the arrows and flung backward before crashing heavily onto the ground.
“Ah, Finley…” Elder Ironwood sighed as he looked at Rosm lying in a pool of blood, riddled with holes like a torn sack. “I understand your anger, but if you kill him like this, how will we find a way to save Sind…?”
“Don’t relax,” Nolan’s calm voice cut him off. “He’s not dead. Let me handle this.”
With that, he immediately stepped forward, approaching the heap of mangled flesh.
As expected.
From within that barely recognizable mass came a chilling, wet chuckle.
Under everyone’s horrified gaze, the grotesquely mutilated creature—one that should have long been dead—twisted and rose again in a bizarre, unnatural motion. The arrows embedded in his body were slowly forced out by writhing flesh, dropping to the ground one by one.
“With such insignificant power…” Rosm’s voice had become hoarse and distorted. “You think you can defeat a servant of the Formless God?”
By then, Nolan had already reached him.
A thick, nauseating stench of decay surged toward him. On his system panel, notifications of continuous minor damage from Corruption Mist flooded the screen.
Nolan knew well that this enemy was infamous in the game for his terrifying vitality. He had to strike while he was weakened and finish him off.
Seeing Nolan approach on his own, Rosm sneered, twisting his lips into a grotesque grin. “No matter how sharp ordinary blades are, to me they are nothing but trivial pain. Bathed in rot, I have long walked hand in hand with suffering. My mission will not end until this world itself decays!”
His right hand split once more into several writhing tentacles that lashed forward.
Nolan didn’t bother responding.
Divine Infusion, Aura of Conviction, and Assault all activated in an instant.