“Pulling the boss is both tiring and troublesome.”
The voice rang out within the team, drawing everyone’s gaze to a delicately beautiful face.
It was Hill who spoke. Ever since joining, she had remained silent, her eyes fixed on the altar as she said coolly, “Why use such a stupid method?”
Perhaps it was that expressionless face, or the flat tone that carried an inexplicable pressure—everyone suddenly found themselves at a loss for words.
Autumn Waters was the first to recover. “But if we don’t lure the Fallen Treant Lord over, how do we trigger the slabs’ mechanism?”
“Triggering the mechanism doesn’t have to be so complicated.”
She had spoken not a word since entering the dungeon—only her dazzling healing numbers reminded them she was there. Most had unconsciously forgotten her presence until this moment. Now they remembered: this ice-cool beauty was actually a member of the infamous Irresponsible Strategy Team.
Realisation dawned. Expectant eyes turned toward her.
“Could it be a strategy the guide team hasn’t released yet?”
“They must have researched it—and tested it thoroughly.”
“Now we can relax!”
Even Roseheart’s trio couldn’t help glancing over. Though their guild’s hard-won plan had just been called stupid, learning a simpler method would be a huge boon.
They had expected such clever words from a certain mischievous little imp—that matched the impression she’d left last time.
“Don’t fixate on motion or weight,” Hill said, lightly lifting her foot and bringing it down in demonstration. “What the floor registers is instantaneous impact. The trigger threshold is nothing more than impact force reaching a certain value.”
“We already know that…” Mushui began.
Nightwish tugged her sleeve and looked to Hill. “Miss Hill, are you saying it doesn’t have to be gravity—any form of impact will do?”
Nightwish’s prompt jolted the others awake.
They had been trapped by the idea of weight. They’d forgotten Epoch’s astonishing physics engine. In real life you might borrow tools to smash a stone slab; inside the game, the possibilities multiplied—skills, for instance.
“Fireball Barrage?”
“Ice Spike?”
“Arcane and magical effects don’t belong to the physical layer,” Hill dismissed. “Their impact is inferior to physical-class skills.” She turned to the warriors up front.
Shuiyan’s bright eyes locked on a spot ten metres ahead. Charge!
The explosive burst of speed closed the gap in an instant. Just as the skill ended, she slammed her giant shield down onto the slab.
BOOM! The stone sank into the ground. Shuiyan rolled and came up steady.
“Wow, so cool!”
Scarlet Rain’s eyes sparkled. She rushed the second slab Red Coral had marked—and overshot spectacularly.
Seaside Yoyo’s group burst into laughter.
“Canned Tank, you suck!”
“Don’t call me Canned Tank! You lot want a beating?”
Bullhead scratched the back of his head. Cheered on by Weaving Night and White Rabbit Candy, he lined up the third slab and charged. His hulking frame barrelled forward like a truck.
Clumsy, yes—but he’d learned from Scarlet Rain. The shield crashed perfectly. PAK! The slab dropped.
Momentum betrayed him. He tumbled several rolls, dizzy, before hauling himself up.
Now even Red Coral snorted. Doran coughed to hide her grin.
Only Hill’s face remained unchanged. She stepped to the fourth slab and produced a scroll.
“Ara, what’s that?” Seaside Yoyo asked, curious.
“Magic Scroll – Falling Rock.”
A massive boulder crashed from the sky, striking dead centre.
An earth mage staple—control the drop height to raise damage. The cast delay was usually a flaw; here it was perfect.
Doran noted silently: earth mages will climb the leaderboards.
Warrior Charges had long cooldowns—wasting time. Scrolls worked, but even cheap low-level ones weren’t disposable.
Everyone’s faith in Hill deepened.
Between warrior charges and Hill’s scrolls, the remaining slabs triggered swiftly.
Shuiyan lined up the last—Doran grabbed her.
“Shuiyan, wait! Pull the boss first.”
Epoch bosses weren’t dumb. Trigger every slab and the trap became obvious. Roseheart had learned that the hard way.
Shuiyan blinked, cheeks flushing faintly—an adorable contrast to her usual cool.
I couldn’t help staring.
Before I could look longer, a puffed-up face bounced into view. Evin’s expression screamed unhappy. “Ao Tong’s awful—staring at another girl again!”
I twitched. “Why no reaction when I look at guys?”
“Hmph, girl’s intuition.”
Evin turned away, glaring at Shuiyan. “That big sister definitely has designs on Ao Tong. She wants to do weird stuff.”
“Ao Tong, why is your face red?”
Thankfully, someone still had to pull. Evin shelved her suspicions and vanished with Nightwish to bait the Fallen Treant Lord.
Boss in position—final slab triggered.
The glowing cross melted into golden liquid, racing along the altar’s runes. The Secret Rune Magic Circle ignited. Holy light erupted, swallowing the boss.
A blood-curdling shriek tore through the air. When the light faded, the once pitch-black trunk had peeled and dulled—visibly weakened.
Fallen Treant Lord [Leader]: Level 10, HP 12,000/12,000 (Weakened)
Kill it while it’s sick.
The raid unleashed hell.
The enraged boss roared, raising vines to crush the ants—only for Shuiyan’s taunt to yank hate. Whips slammed the tanks.
Shuiyan ate the blow behind her shield. Terrifying visuals—yet barely a quarter of her health. Hill’s casual heal topped her instantly.
No wonder guilds obsess over weakening.
Everyone grasped the cross’s power—and kept pouring DPS.
No one noticed the petite loli in the back row flicking buff potions and scrolls to every member, her lazy eyes half-lidded.
An Tong thought: As long as they’re happy.