Grandson!

Peasant felt his heartbeat thumping faster. Though it was a game, he had normal physiological reactions.

Ten other gamers who were Tanks were in place.

Lord Sherlock had grabbed Samael's skull and was smashing it into the ground.

A ray of light shot out from where Sherlock was smashing and sent Sherlie flying out.

"It's now! This is our chance!"

The gamers thought that it was a new stage of the BOSS fight.

Peasant charged forward. In the pit smashed out by Sherlock's fist, the bloody Samael stood up.

A few naked Gnomes with shields walked over and shouted vulgarities.

"D*mn you! Grandson!"

"I'm your dad! You silly dude!"

"Hit me! Come and hit me!"

"Catch me, and I'll give you some intelligence syrup!"

"Waaaaaah—!"

Samael's clothing was completely destroyed. His damaged flesh and muscles were vibrating, and his wounds sealed up. His body looked lacerated.