Chapter 927: Mouth of the Bleeding Hells (Part One)

Upon entering the ⌈Gate⌋, Tycondrius was assaulted by a deep, gargling battlecry. 

"ENEMIES OF THE TREE GODDDDD!!!!!"

It was loud. It shook the earth, as well as his bones. 

It also sounded terribly cliche and likely held little to no valuable information. 

"HEEEEERE, YOU SHALL MEEEET YOUR--"

So, Tycon threw out his Spell scroll. 

"⌈Thousand Strikes of the Storm Eel.⌋" 

There was much arrogance in shouting while striking a pose. The enemy went as far as channeling mana into their voice... which was mana unavailable for a defensive Skill. 

As Tycon's eyes adjusted to the light of Alana's ⌈Gate⌋ behind him, he observed the yellowed parchment burning away. 

The inked Spell Circle remained, then instantly expanded fivefold. From the rotating satellite arrays at its 8 points, 96 bolts of wiggling lightning surged forward towards the... battlecrier.

That fellow, Tycon identified to be... a... War Troll.