"B-Rank awakened knight skill… that's some serious mastery."
Orson's brows twitched as he observed. A skill like this, which launches a group airborne, had a tight margin for error—release it too early or too late, and you'd miss stragglers. But what really caught his attention was the skill's abnormally fast execution and the potent debuff-laced damage.
Clearly, this had to be the effect of the ancient divine item, Queen of the Night.
"Holy crap! That's some brutal damage!" Madman was dumbfounded.
"…It's not just the damage. His HP is thicker than mine." Bradley stared at Drunken Dream's health bar in disbelief. Even with two Divine Soul Seals equipped, he still had less than half the guy's health.
"It's okay, still doesn't compare to Orson," Drunken Dream said nonchalantly, sweeping his spear in a continuous chain of strikes.
Orson's temple twitched. Damn it, even if we're practically family now, do you have to keep chanting that like a monk?
