Legendary Broken Player - VRMMORPG-Chapter 712 - The Clock Strikes Zero

Ivana!

Broken dashed forward with everything he had. Focalor had just slaughtered two forest elves and now surged through the air, evading strikes from skeletal warriors. His hands glowed with twin orbs of crackling energy, each aimed directly at Ivana.

Ivana was in danger.

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Focalor moved with terrifying speed, bearing down on her. But then, out of nowhere, a figure clad in heavy crimson armor appeared near them.

In an instant, a domain expanded outward from the armored figure, encapsulating everyone within its shimmering boundary—Broken, Ivana, Alora, and Frostedge were all caught inside.

The figure, SpeedGang, struck his shield against the ground with a resonating clang, pointing at Focalor, who hovered above them.

"No one can use magic in this domain!" SpeedGang declared.

No magic? That would be disastrous. Focalor thrived on raw power based on his stats alone, making him even deadlier without magic to counter him.

Is this guy out of his mind? Broken cursed inwardly.

"Hah! It seems you’ve learned nothing," Focalor sneered.

Unfazed by SpeedGang’s declaration, the Named Demon ascended higher into the air. With terrifying precision and raw, overwhelming power, he slammed into the domain’s barrier.

In mere moments, the barrier shattered into countless fragments, breaking apart with a deafening crash.

SpeedGang froze in place, his figure flickering briefly before dissolving into pixels and vanishing into thin air. The domain that was supposed to turn the tide had been obliterated effortlessly.

Focalor’s raw strength had rendered the strategy futile, leaving the battlefield exposed and vulnerable once more.

Damn it!

There was no one left to take the full tanker role, and Broken couldn’t allow Ivana to step into such a vulnerable position.

"Ivana, retreat!" he shouted.

As Focalor’s strike neared Ivana, Broken surged forward, intercepting it just in time. Massive ice swords materialized in the air, slamming repeatedly into Focalor, but the demon’s magic shield absorbed the relentless onslaught.

Broken didn’t let up. He launched a flurry of attacks, spinning his spear with precision and thrusting it forward in rapid strikes aimed at breaking through Focalor’s defenses.

Suddenly, a colossal ice wall appeared behind Focalor, trapping the demon in a confined space. This was the opportunity Broken needed for a decisive blow. He moved in for a fatal strike.

But Focalor was faster. The demon slammed his hand forward, unleashing a powerful wave of energy that blasted out in all directions. The sheer force hurled Broken and everything near the demon backward, scattering debris and allies alike.

Broken gritted his teeth as he regained his footing.

Even with the buffs from the Golden Paragon, this demon was proving to be nearly impossible to defeat.

Broken summoned the Legendary Golem Blackthorn to the battlefield.

With a thunderous crash, the colossal golem materialized. Wielding an enormous greatsword, Blackthorn wasted no time and charged directly at Focalor, its heavy footfalls shaking the ground.

At the very least, Blackthorn’s presence relieved some of the pressure from Broken, taking on the critical role of tanking the heavy damage. This gave him a brief window to recalibrate his strategy while continuing to coordinate his team.

The battle raged on for another grueling three minutes, and the tension only grew heavier. This fight was exhausting, both physically and mentally, as Focalor remained virtually unscathed despite their desperate efforts.

Everyone attacked with increasing desperation, aware of the stakes. Broken, too, pushed himself to the limit, knowing full well that the duration of Golden Paragon was ticking down.

He unleashed every skill at his disposal, aiming to deal as much damage as possible before his time ran out.

But it was becoming painfully clear—this Named Demon, levels over 400, was far tougher than any of them had anticipated.

Frostedge, Galactron, and Zeno didn’t falter for a moment, their relentless barrage of attacks showing no signs of slowing. Yet, the battlefield’s grim reality was undeniable. Despite their best efforts, they had yet to inflict any significant damage on the demon.

Broken pressed forward, his Golden Paragon Avatar mirroring his every move, amplifying his speed and power. His strikes were faster, stronger, and more precise than ever before. But even now, Focalor seemed untouched by fatigue, his movements swift and calculated as he countered and evaded with ease.

Hovering in the air, Focalor smirked, effortlessly dodging and deflecting the barrage of attacks from every direction. With a casual, almost mocking glance, he retaliated repeatedly, sending waves of destruction back at his opponents.

"The duration is almost up, isn’t it?" Focalor’s voice was laced with disdain. "Ha! Amateurs. You’ve wasted the Golden Paragon. What a pathetic waste!"

With that, he darted through the air at incredible speed, his trajectory aimed directly at Broken.

"Once this ends, so will all of you. There will be no second chance, no last stand. This fight is over!" Focalor roared.

3 minutes, 48 seconds.

The duration of the Golden Paragon was down to just over a minute. Broken pushed himself to the edge, pouring every ounce of mana and resources he had left into a relentless flurry of attacks. If his time in this battle was coming to an end, he was determined to leave behind as much damage as possible to ease the burden on his allies.

3 minutes, 59 seconds.

His eyes darted across the battlefield, searching desperately for any signs of a breakthrough, any glimmer of hope. But no answer came to him.

4 minutes, 19 seconds.

In a critical moment, Ivana stepped in to shield Broken, blocking Focalor’s attacks. Her actions gave him just enough time to recover and prepare for a counterattack.

"Ivana, you need to leave!" Broken shouted firmly.

Ivana didn’t respond, her focus locked entirely on the fight. Meanwhile, Alora continued to exploit the chaos, slipping in and out of Focalor’s blind spots to strike from unexpected angles.

The team’s attacks came in waves, one after another, but it was becoming painfully evident that even their best efforts couldn’t make a dent in the Named Demon.

4 minutes, 34 seconds.

Is this it? Is there really no way out of this? Does it all end here?

Focalor unleashed another devastating energy explosion, scattering the frontline once more. Chaos spread as their formation disintegrated.

The Named Demon remained untouchable, undeterred, and impossibly powerful.

4 minutes, 52 seconds.

And then it happened.

With a blinding burst of speed, Focalor shot toward Broken, timing his attack perfectly as the duration of the Golden Paragon expired. The radiant avatar dissolved into nothingness, fading from sight as if it had never been there at all.

Before anyone could react, Focalor closed the distance. His clawed hand extended and about to reach Broken.

"Enough with the games, kiddo," Focalor snarled.

[The duration of the Golden Paragon summon has ended.]

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Broken felt the crushing weight of reality as his stats plummeted, leaving him drastically weakened.

The penalty for using the Avatar struck hard, locking him out of all his skills.

The final blow came swift and brutal. His health dropped to zero.

[You have triggered the Ethereal Form.]

A brilliant light enveloped his body, wrapping him in an ethereal glow. In this state, he was immune to physical attacks—but still vulnerable to magic.

"Such an adorable way to try and cling to life," Focalor mocked.

Broken clenched his fists tightly. He could still survive this. If he used the Mask of Scorched Fury, it would trigger the Fiery Rebirth skill, allowing him to resurrect and launch a counterattack, no matter the cost.

Focalor, wearing a cold, thin smile, prepared his follow-up strike. Dozens of glowing magic circles appeared behind the Named Demon, ready to unleash a relentless barrage of attacks.

Suddenly, an explosion erupted around Broken, engulfing his vision in blinding light.

What just happened?

Before he could make sense of it, someone grabbed him from the side. The grip was firm, and the next thing he knew, he was slung over a shoulder and whisked away at incredible speed.

"You’re such a troublesome Guild Master! Can’t any of you hold your ground without me around?" the figure said as they ran, carrying Broken on their shoulder, away from the clutches of the Named Demon.

Broken, still dazed from the sudden explosion and his health depletion, could barely process what was happening.

At the same time, a ripple of shock spread through every member of Vensalor Guild, as a notification lit up the guild chat.

[Maylock has logged into the game.]