LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 8
Chapter 8: Can’t Lose
[Author: Anonymous]
[Title: Why Are Tanks So Bad at Party Protection?]
[Content: Seriously~! Is it that hard to react to the big motion of the ground slam?
Can’t you just use your skills on time?
Watching them fail to counter basic attacks and get tossed around is so frustrating.]
If the tank has Protection Level 1, the party protection lasts only 0.5 seconds, so it’s not easy.
Use Frost Blossom Level 3 with a mage for party freezing. It’s OP.
ㄴI haven’t seen anyone mix Inferno and Frost Blossom to get Frost 3. How’d you manage it?
Use resistance effects on movement skills to block it.
ㄴ(Author) What nonsense. That doesn’t work!
ㄴㄴMaybe it’s just that you suck at controls, lol.
***
During the 60% bandit summoning phase, I accidentally let one bandit slip, but Perro handled it smoothly with her Sword Phantom.
Geumgang’s movements were large and deliberate, making them easy to counter.
Meanwhile, I dodged the bandit attacks by turning my body slightly—like a seasoned veteran.
And every time Perro twisted her body to dodge…
Well.
Anyway, when Geumgang’s Fusion attacks triggered, Perro would call out, and I’d throw a talisman to break it.
For combo attacks, she distributed her skills without needing assistance. Everything felt incredibly efficient.
After Geumgang fell, I checked the damage meter.
[Battle Time: 4 minutes 27 seconds]
[Marauder Geumgang’s HP: 111,300 | Bandits’ HP: 4,000]
[#1: Curse Blade – Dajeong-dosha: 382 DPS]
[#2: Greatsword – PerroFace: 304 DPS]
***
The difference in output was, of course, because I had focused on handling the bandits.
Still, isn’t this a good result? I kited well and barely let anything slip.
Come on, praise me.
“Whew, Greatsword doesn’t have many AoE skills, so it’s tough. If it had some, I could’ve soloed this boss.”
…?
Hmm…
Couldn’t it be because you’re using Sword Phantom?
Sometimes, though, it’s better not to point out facts if you want to maintain peace.
But I had to admit, producing that level of DPS while focusing purely on the boss was impressive. Does reflexes in clicking translate well to virtual reality mechanics?
For me, if someone asked me to replicate that level of movement in real life, my muscles would twist up, and I’d probably start crying.
No, not just crying—sobbing…
“What did you get?”
Perro’s question brought me back to reality. The first boss of Bandit Hideout drops a ring, while the second boss drops a necklace.
The stats are random, so failing to get suitable options often means grinding the dungeon repeatedly—a dreadful experience.
Let’s see.
[Marauder’s Crimson Glowing Ring, Rare Grade, Level Requirement: 20]
(Fixed) Increases Inferno trait skill power by 5%.
(Random) Enhances Explosive trait effects by 5%.
Unfortunately, neither option was useful for me. I’d have to give it to Perro.
But first, one thing.
“Hmm, it’s an Inferno trait item. Congrats. …But we’re running this dungeon again after, right?”
“Sure. We need all the accessories anyway.”
That “all” includes my accessories too, right?
…It does, right? I trust you?
At this point, players face a choice:
Exit the dungeon and repeatedly farm the first boss for rings before challenging the second boss.
Proceed straight to the second boss, then loop through both bosses for farming.
Each option has pros and cons. Farming the first boss lets you quickly equip two rings and boost your stats, making the second boss easier.
However, since you need to farm necklaces too, it’s more efficient overall to clear both bosses in one go. Only in dungeons where the difficulty gap between bosses is extreme is farming the first boss mandatory.
Bandit Hideout isn’t one of those overly punishing dungeons, so there’s no need to stick with the first option.
“Shall we head straight to the second boss?”
“Sounds good!”
With party agreement, we proceeded to the second boss.
We swiftly cleared the trash mobs and arrived at the boss room. Since it’s a story dungeon, a cinematic play. Skip.
Skip. 1/2
Skip. 1/2.
…?
“Perro… PerroFace-nim?”
“Hold on, I want to watch this cutscene.”
Ah.
Now that I think about it, this story’s content is only familiar to me.
I lacked consideration. Begrudgingly, I also started watching.
“So, the Black Crows are about to invade? How arrogant of them.”
“Yes, boss.”
Geumgang knelt on one knee before the second boss, Hase the Shackled.
True to his name, Hase had dark chains wrapped around both arms and smirked as he spoke.
“Unless the captain comes in person, no one can defeat me, Hase the Shackled, or you, Geumgang. Unless they swarm us, of course.”
“That’s right, boss.”
The scene transitioned with a fade to black.
“Boss! Big trouble! Sub-Boss Geumgang is dead, and they’re heading this way!”
“How many of them are there?”
“Four!”
Hearing the henchman shout “four”—obviously designed for a four-player party—Hase gave a sinister grin.
“To think Geumgang got chewed up by mere Black Crows.”
Unbothered by his subordinate’s death, Hase’s indifference made the bandit minion’s face pale. Perhaps he realized he was just as disposable.
“It’s been a while since my chains tasted fresh blood. Heh heh heh.”
The scene zoomed in on Hase’s face, his glowing red eyes locking onto mine before the screen faded out.
Fade in.
Perro’s blunt commentary followed.
“He’s kinda ugly. Probably because it’s still an early dungeon?”
Wait… you were looking at his face, not watching the story?
I felt oddly annoyed.
“I don’t know the patterns for the second boss either. Should we give it a try?”
I don’t know! Dajeong-dosha is also new to this!
“Of course. Start the countdown when you’re ready.”
Perro seemed confident.
But listen, Perro. The bosses in BloSe so far have been tutorials.
Hase’s patterns are just a bit… no, significantly faster. His movements are subtler, too.
That’s why he’s nicknamed:
“The Wall of Lamentation for Tanks.”
He’s the first real filter that humbles overconfident players.
Tanks will die. It’s inevitable. Hase the Shackled shall chain Perro up!
Three, two, one—the countdown ended, and the fight began.
“You pitiful crows. Come, I’ll end you swiftly!”
Hase began his opening attack, raising both arms above his head and swinging his chains in wide arcs. It was his signature area-of-effect attack pattern, nicknamed “Floor Sweeper.”
Three rotations, followed by a fourth swing where he slammed the chains down, sweeping the entire floor in a circle.
Hop.
The attack’s hitbox was relatively low. Perro reversed her grip on her sword and barely managed a counter, while I avoided it easily with a light jump. Perro’s brief glance at me seemed to scream, “I thought you said this was your first run!”
Hey, isn’t it common sense to jump over skip rope patterns with Spacebar?
The battle began in earnest.
Hase’s patterns were challenging not only for tanks but also for ranged damage dealers. The whip’s long reach made it possible to hit players even at a distance.
This meant tanks needed to “fix the boss’ head,” ensuring the boss exposed its back to the DPS players on the opposite side.
Judging by Perro’s performance with the first boss, I figured I wouldn’t need to go out of my way to force counters while aggressively dealing damage. Perro seemed capable of handling it.
I positioned myself diagonally to the boss, about 3 meters away. This spot was ideal for countering major patterns or stepping in to deal with gimmicks while still keeping the boss in view.
Here’s where I noticed the first deviation from the game I remembered.
In the original BloSe, boss patterns were rigid and predictable. They’d perform standardized attacks, transitioning to special patterns or mechanics based on HP thresholds or time elapsed.
Hase’s standard sequence was supposed to be:
Swing left-hand whip in a semi-circle covering a 45-degree forward arc.
Retrieve the whip with the right hand, extending it in a straight line (causing knockback if hit).
Slightly crouch before a sweeping leg trip (causing knockdown if hit).
Combine both whips and slam them forward.
Swing, extend, trip, slam—this repeated in order.
But here, the attack order wasn’t fixed. Right-hand and left-hand attacks mixed freely. Even the leg trip had fake-out motions! What kind of sadistic design was this?
For tanks seeing and reacting to this in real-time VR, it must have been far more stressful than playing with a keyboard and mouse.
Even so, Perro handled it calmly without faltering. Seriously, are you really new to this boss? You’re starting to scare me.
Of course, it wasn’t perfect. She got caught by a straightforward leg trip, her posture wavering. Her flustered expression? Delicious.
Barely dodging the follow-up slam with an awkward roll? Also delicious.
Noticing my gaze, Perro glared at me while blocking the next attack.
What? That was your fault, not mine.
I analyzed Hase’s next likely actions based on pattern data.
Without looking directly at Hase, I shifted my gaze diagonally to Perro’s feet.
Gradually, she began edging closer to me, step by step, almost imperceptibly.
She was drawing me into the boss’ attack range, all while pretending to stand still.
Checking the damage meter, I was dealing 340 DPS—pushing the maximum efficiency for my current stats.
Perro was at 290 DPS. Even with her new ring, her output had dropped slightly compared to the first boss. Then again, handling sudden patterns is part of a DPS’s job too.
The moment the three of us—me, Hase, and Perro—formed a right angle, a perfectly timed swing pattern began. Hase extended his arm, unfurling the chain wrapped around his forearm in a swift motion.
I was three meters away, but the whip shot forward in an instant, nearly grazing me. If I hadn’t prepared, it would’ve been almost impossible to react.
Of course, I wasn’t just mindlessly spamming attacks—I’d already predicted the Swing pattern from the movement of Hase’s arm. At the perfect timing, I deployed a Deflection Talisman with precision.
TING! A satisfying, clear sound. Yes, that’s the stuff.
“Grr…!”
Hase didn’t bother hiding his frustration. But pointing that out would’ve been a rookie mistake.
“PerroFace-nim, the boss’ head turned a little. Hehe.”
“I-I’m sorry… I’ll be more careful.”
Perro’s face flushed slightly, as if realizing she’d let her competitiveness get the better of her. She quickly adjusted back to her position.
Around 1 minute and 20 seconds into the fight, when Hase’s HP reached 70%, the first special pattern began.
“Arrogant wretches! Despair at your own helplessness!”
Hase’s body glowed purple as he stomped the ground with a thunderous boom. I knew this pattern well, so I could have countered it—but I deliberately didn’t.
I wanted to see Perro’s reaction. Plus, using resistance here might make her suspicious.
The attack itself dealt no damage but inflicted a stun effect lasting about 2 seconds. Hase turned his attention toward me.
“You rat! You’ll be the first to fall!”
Hase’s body glowed purple again as he unfurled the chains from his arms and threw them at me, binding me in place.
It took about 2 seconds for the chains to fully restrain me. Conveniently, this timing matched the end of my stun duration.
Now bound by chains, I was slowly dragged toward Hase. As the glow around him shifted from purple to red, I realized my luck was good—he hadn’t chosen Fusion for this grab pattern.
Had it been Fusion, we’d have had to restart. Perro’s build was focused entirely on the Inferno trait, not Fusion.
This grab pattern was precisely why a minimum of three party members was recommended for this boss. With only two, breaking free required flawless execution.
Being bound in the Snare Array was one thing, but experiencing it firsthand was another.
The cold touch of steel chains brushing against my thin robes sent a shiver down my spine.
At least I wasn’t dragged across the floor like a sack of potatoes; instead, I hovered slightly in the air as I was pulled toward Hase.
“Perro-nim, use your Combo Attack!”
I saw her eyes darting back and forth between me and Hase, debating where to strike.
Seriously? You’re good at games, aren’t you?
Breaking the chains might sound like a plausible RPG choice, but wouldn’t that also break me?
Feeling the weight of her hesitation, I shouted.
“The boss! Hit the boss!”
Whether she heard me or figured it out herself, Perro decisively locked onto Hase. With a horizontal slash followed by a vertical one, she executed Cross Slash, the swordsman’s core skill that delivered two consecutive strikes. Both hits landed cleanly on Hase.
The tension in the chains weakened, and I managed to free myself with some effort.
Yap!
Channeling all my strength into my core and chest, I attempted the classic “hermit breaking out of ropes” move.
Fail.
My dramatic effort ended in a slight twitch, as the chains quietly retracted back to Hase. Disappointing. No flair at all.
With Hase now in a lengthy groggy state, I unleashed all my skills. Given the small damage gap between us so far, every bit of effort mattered.
As a DPS, your worth is always proven at the top of the damage meter.
I can’t lose.