I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 237 Uneasy Death
Before stepping forward, Ye Aonaihe had thought about many things. He felt that he might be in the midst of a fierce battle, slash the boss once, get knocked away, land and vomit to death, and then say a few cool words before dying.

In this way, Ye Aonaihe can record a cool short video for himself and show it off to other players after the event ends.

If I'm lucky, I can deliver the final blow to the boss and kill Araka. Even if I die from the boss's dying outburst, I'll still have more bragging rights.

However, Ye Ao never expected that he would die so tragically.

After a flash of green light, Ye Aonai, who was rushing forward, lunged forward and, with the very typical action of a vicious dog snatching food, crashed heavily onto the blood-stained stone steps. His body twitched twice and then lay still.

"Holy crap?"

A player charging forward passed by Ye Aonaihe and kicked him, but couldn't get the latter moving.

"Is Ye Ao really dead?"

"There aren't even any special effects!"

Another player on the city wall widened his eyes and said to the other players.

"He just gave such a passionate speech, I thought he was going to fight the boss for three hundred rounds?"

"Never mind it, since we're dead, we're dead. Let's kill the boss first!!!"

Most other players reacted similarly: it's just one player dying, what's the big deal?

So the others continued to rush towards Aranka, attacking him from all sides, forcing him to barely swing his scepter to block, but each collision widened the cracks on his face.

In no time, the stone cracks on Aranka's face spread rapidly, and some fragments began to peel off, revealing the blood-red muscles underneath. As the cracks spread, his movements became sluggish, and the light on the scepter flickered.

Connie peeked out from behind the bunker, looking at Aranka's face and at the Jihadist members who were either sitting or lying on the ground. They stared at Aranka numbly, as if waiting for something predetermined to happen.

"You simply don't understand."

Arlanca was panting heavily.

"I'm saving people."

"Save your breath, you charlatan!"

A player delivered a flying kick, striking Aranka squarely in the chest, causing the high priest to stagger backward and crash into the edge of the city wall.

"If it weren't for your holy war, these people would have stayed at home, waiting for us to liberate Walteradnoi. Given Prince Chris's character, they wouldn't have died or been forcibly converted."

"You killed them! You murderer, how dare you stand here spouting nonsense?!"

The player's words were like a sharp knife, piercing Aranka's heart. The high priest staggered backward, leaning against the city wall, his bewildered expression growing deeper. The light on his scepter flickered intensely, as if reflecting the turmoil within him.

"No...that's not how it is..."

Aranka's voice suddenly became weak and low, and the stone fragments falling from his face accelerated.

“I just don’t want the tyrant to return… I don’t want the kingdom that wants to restrict the spread of the Earth Mother Goddess’s faith to be restored… I…”

"and then?"

A player wielding a long-handled axe rushed forward, shouting and slamming the axe down on Alanka's shoulder.

The axe didn't deflect; instead, it cut deep into half of its blade, becoming lodged in Aranka's body. Stone fragments flew out from the ripped holes in his torn robe. "All the people who died here were fakes!?"

Alanka's voice abruptly stopped. He stared blankly at the player in front of him with an incredibly righteous expression. Then his gaze swept left and right, looking at the corpses on and off the city wall, those ragged farmers, craftsmen... each of their faces was frozen with the pain of death.

"Was I... really wrong?"

His voice grew softer and softer, and the light of the scepter almost went out.

"Mother Goddess, tell me..."

As soon as he finished speaking, the light on the scepter in Aranka's hand went out. In the next moment, the scepter slipped from his palm and fell to the ground. At the same time, the high priest also fell to his knees, and with a heavy thud, his head drooped.

Almost immediately, Aranka's lowered head made a sharp, shattering sound, like porcelain breaking.

The first crack appeared between his brows, and spiderweb-like patterns instantly spread across his entire stone face. Fine crackling sounds emanated from his neck, like thousands of glass beads exploding in an iron pot.

"Holy crap... the old man dropped gold coins?!"

The player wielding the axe cried out in alarm. He disregarded his steel axe and quickly let go, retreating backward.

Before the player could retreat far, several sharp angles suddenly rose from Aranka's back. These angles pierced through his white robe and revealed rapidly growing clusters of emerald green crystals.

The crystal clusters collided with the stone body, producing a teeth-grinding friction sound and sparks flying everywhere.

"Crack!"

Aranka's right shoulder disintegrated first, his body exploding like a plaster statue, revealing the writhing green mucus inside. The mucus hardened rapidly in the air, forming a coral-like branching structure, only to crumble into dust in the next second.

His body began to collapse section by section.

First, his knees shattered at the spot where he knelt, raising a cloud of grayish-white dust. Then, his chest cavity peeled away piece by piece like a stone tablet weathered for thousands of years. Each fragment turned into fluorescent dust the moment it hit the ground. Finally, his shattered head exploded completely with a crisp bang, leaving behind a ground covered with green crystals.

The moment Araka was shattered to pieces, a phantom green figure stood in place, looking around blankly. The sharp-eyed members of the Holy War Army immediately recognized the face of this phantom figure.

"It's the High Priest of Araka...he's become a saint!"

"Saint Nima!!!"

It was the same axe player again. He ran back once more, carrying a small axe. He rushed to the illusory figure with lightning speed and swung the axe forcefully, chopping at the translucent Araka who was emitting a green glow.

As is common in movies and games, the other onlookers were already prepared for the axe to sweep across the transparent Aranka, but unexpectedly, when the axe landed on the latter, it made a crisp sound of leather being torn.

Araka also snapped out of his daze, and his right arm, which had been severed from his left hand, emitted a scream similar to that of a banshee.

The player, who was about to strike again with his axe, was hit by this sonic attack at close range. His eyes rolled back, and he fell backward, unconscious.

The next second, a beam of light shone down from the sky, enveloping Aranka. As the light disappeared, Aranka vanished as well.

Connie witnessed the whole thing. She stood up from behind the battlements, scratched her head, and asked the adjutant beside her from the bottom of her heart.

"What just happened?"

(End of this chapter)