Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO

Chapter 110 - 110: Heave, Ho! Here Comes The Flying Dutchman!

I glanced at the tall octopus tendrils rising, then at the Revenant's towering form. This thing could probably warp reality, and it was targeting me specifically.

I needed to think fast—keep it distracted, keep moving. The tendrils weren't just weapons; they were extensions of the Revenant itself, an extension of its reach into this twisted duel he declared.

But then, just as I dodged another tendril, something strange happened—the space between me and the Revenant stretched, distorting impossibly as if the distance between us was increasing with each step I took. The more I advanced, the further away it seemed to get, as if the battlefield itself was betraying me.

I couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "You're a real piece of work, aren't you?" I muttered under my breath, catching the sight of those cursed tendrils snaking through the brackish water, still hot on my trail. "For a menacing guy, you're a shitty coward."

Instinctively, I threw myself into a reckless dive, narrowly avoiding the tendrils as they snapped together where I had been moments before.

My mind still raced,

I turned slowly, and my stimulated Valtherion's Blood was churning in pain even further.

Figures began to rise, one after another, from the deck of the ship—ghastly, ghostly crewmen, their skin pale and mottled like rotting fish, their eyes hollow and gleaming with an unnatural light. Some were skeletal, their flesh barely clinging to their bones, while others seemed to have drowned not long ago, their skin bloated and sickly blue.

They moved with the slow, deliberate steps of the dead, but their eyes were filled with the fury of those long denied peace.

The closest one lurched toward me, dragging an ancient cutlass behind him, its rusted blade scraping against the deck with a screech. His voice was barely a whisper, but his words were clear.

"Gate gate… pāragate… pārasamgate… bodhi svāhā…"

Before I could react, he lunged at me with surprising speed. I parried his attack with one of my Stormhooks, the sound of silent metal clashing against metal one-sidedly echoing across the deck.

But more of them were coming—dozens of them, each one more wretched and desperate than the last.

The ghostly crew swarmed me, their weapons dull and chipped but driven by an unholy strength. Each time I struck one down, they seemed to rise again, as if bound by some cursed oath that kept them from ever truly dying.

One of the sailors, his face twisted in eternal agony, mumbled through gritted teeth as he swung a rusty ax at me. "Namu… amida butsu..."

I dodged, barely avoiding the blow, and countered with a slash of my own, cutting him down. But it didn't matter. Another sailor replaced him, this one with a harpoon lodged deep into his chest, as though he had been speared in life and dragged to this ship to serve in death.

"Namo tassa… bhagavato arahato… samma sambuddhassa…"