Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 72: Mire Crocs (1)

⸢Threat: Iron-hide Mire Croc (×5)⸥

⸢Level: 40 - 50⸥

These massive reptilian beasts most likely weren’t this way from the very beginning.

Percival could tell from the way they moved that they were evolved beasts, adapting past their original form to survive in the acidic, mana-dense waters of the marsh.

Unlike normal crocodiles, their scales had absorbed metallic minerals from the swamp bed, forming a natural, spiky plate armor that covered 90% of their body.

They were slate-grey in color, resembling floating boulders when submerged.

They had eyes, but Percival could tell that they really couldn’t see at all with them. They were milky white and atrophied (blind), relying entirely on other senses.

When they opened their maws hungrily, he saw the irregular, rusted teeth that lined their jaws, likely capable of crushing plate mail.

He remembered them. And although he couldn’t fully remember their abilities, he at least recalled what type of beasts awaited him in the next Encounter Zone.

Nevertheless, he pushed that thought away and focused on his present issue. For now, he had to survive this Zone first.

Taking careful steps backwards, feet sinking into the mud and squelching out, he deep dived for more information on the Iron-hide Mire Crocs crawling closer to him

⸢ Main Skills: ⸥

⸢Iron-Plating (Passive): The creature’s scales possess the hardness of low-grade steel. Physical damage from non-magical weapons or weapons below B-Grade is reduced by 60%⸥

⸢Thermoreception (Passive): The Mire-Croc is blind but possesses heat-sensing pits along its snout. It can detect warm-blooded prey through water, mud, and fog, rendering visual camouflage or blinding attacks useless⸥

⸢Corrosive Spittle: The beast can regurgitate a concentrated glob of stomach acid. On contact, this acid deals high DoT (Damage over Time) and permanently reduces the durability of armor it touches⸥

⸢Death Roll: Upon grappling a target, the Croc spins violently in the water. This inflicts massive physical damage and applies the [Drowning] and [Disoriented] status effects⸥

⸢Mud-Anchor: By burying its claws into the swamp bed, it becomes immovable, preventing knockback effects⸥

The same strategy that guided his leveling up ever since regressing crystallized in his mind:

Swordsman mana for the shell. Necromancer mana for the kill. If he could infuse ⸢Soulfire⸥ into the killing strike of his Swordsman Skill, the death Class could still lay claim to the EXP.

Because it was the one that needed it most.

Recalling how ruthless these reptiles were, Percival knew was assured that his strategy was the right move.

Only his Swordsman might could challenge such vermin violence.

His pupils moved left.

Movement.

It was the largest one, the Lvl 50.

It moved faster than its size suggested. It didn’t slither.

It was rather a surge.

A half-ton of iron-plated muscle launched from the water like a living catapult. Its jaws, wide enough to swallow a man’s torso, snapped shut on empty air as Percival moved.

He didn’t use ⸢Grave Step⸥. That was precious Necromancer mana.

Instead, he relied on his speed.

⸢Speed: 875⸥.

He blurred sideways, the wind of the creature’s passage ruffling his hair. His boot found purchase on a half-submerged log.

He pivoted, golden Swordsman aura flaring around Lightpiercer as he activated ⸢Blessed Edge⸥.

Just then, a second Croc (Lvl 45) swung its massive, spiked tail like a maul.

CLANG—!

—SHATTER!

The blade clad with the empowering magic of ⸢Blessed Edge⸥ met the tail in a shockwave of sound.

The log beneath him exploded into pulp from the transferred force. Percival rode the impact back, skidding through the mud, his muscles singing with strain.

The aura had prevented the blade from chipping, but the vibration numbed his arm. Iron-Plating was no joke.

The two Crocs flanked him, their heat-sensing pits locking onto his glowing core of life force.

Another Lvl 40 submerged from the pool, its feet sinking into the muddy earth as the pool rippled from its departure.

Others waited back in the pools.

Percival narrowed his eyes. ’These crocodiles. They attack smartly. In groups of three.’

He gripped his blade tighter. ’If I want to maximize my chances of defeating them faster, I have to force all of them into attack.’

Sure, it was a riskier move. But from the looks of it, there was no Beast Source in this Encounter Zone, waiting for them to attack in trios was a waste of time when he could battle and slaughter them all at once.

The thought vanished quickly as Percival’s Perception tracked a ripple moving left. Tl

The Level 50 was coiling for another lunge.

He angled his sword to pierce rather than block, but that was when he realized that it was only a distraction.

His Perception tinged again.

Percival’s eyes widened. One of the Level 45’s was inhaling, its throat swelling grotesquely.

Acid.

Quickly, he kicked off a peat mound, just as a glob of sizzling green spittle shot past his shoulder.

It struck a stone behind him with a hissing SCREEE, eating through it in seconds, the fumes making his eyes water.

The submerged Croc chose that moment to strike. It erupted directly beneath him, jaws vertical, aiming to swallow him whole in a single, gruesome bite.

But Percival’s Agility allowed for his escape.

He twisted in mid-air, an impossible contortion. The rusted teeth grazed his greave, scoring the metal. He landed on the beast’s snout, using it as a springboard to vault high.

As he reached his apex, he saw the Level 45 Croc firing another acid glob, this time in a predicted arc to meet his descent.

The Level 50 charged, maw open, to catch him if he dodged.

’These bastards! So brutally intelligent.’

To tackle these tactics, Percival didn’t dodge. He fell toward the acid.

At the last possible millisecond, he triggered ⸢Bladewave⸥, swinging his sword at the green glob.

It wasn’t an attack, but a repulsion.

WHOOM.

The acid glob detonated harmlessly in the air, shredded by the burst. The force also altered his trajectory, slingshotting him down and directly into the path of the charging Level 50 Croc.

The beast saw a hot target falling right into its mouth. Its jaws opened wider.

Percival’s silver aura winked out. In the space between heartbeats, a cold, hungry blue wreathed his blade:

⸢Soulfire⸥