Brand New Life Online: Rise Of The Goddess Of Harvest Chapter 2017: Fortress

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Norman murmured these strange words while remaining completely still. The Hollows surrounding him grew more and more confused as their sharp claws struck his body again and again, only to snap apart uselessly on impact.

Over and over, every attempt to harm him proved completely futile. Their attacks bounced off his frame as if they were striking solid stone.

Once he finished his quiet meditation, Norman finally raised his head and faced the monsters directly. His aura surged outward in a steady wave as he realized that the wish he had been forming deep inside was already complete.

To most people this might have seemed like the simplest realization in the world. For Norman, who had always been a little slower to understand certain things, it carried deep and lasting meaning.

He possessed a kind yet shy heart. It had taken him a long time to recognize just how tough he truly was and how much strength he carried within his large frame.

Through relentless training, Blank had helped him grow stronger step by step. His bones had been broken into near dust and then healed over and over until they adapted completely. They grew sturdy enough to withstand direct blows from even a Noble among Nobles without cracking.

In that pivotal moment, Blank had given him a surname and a clear purpose.

"You will become Elayne’s shield when Mark and I are not around, Norman. You will be the Bone Fortress that protects her and the sect."

At that time, Norman’s previous class, White Bone Pugilist, had already reached its maximum level. Under those special conditions, it began to evolve into something entirely new.

It became exactly what Blank had declared he would become.

[White Bone Fortress Sentinel]

His main Skill, the power that embodied his desperate struggle for survival, also transformed. Even though Norman had never been a natural fighter and remained a pacifist at heart despite his great strength, the Skill changed along with him.

White Bone Fist Style evolved.

Unlike Sailor, whose Skill simply gained higher tiers and new abilities that suited him perfectly, Norman’s power shifted according to his new class and growing resolve. He chose never to run again. He chose to protect those in need. He chose to release his old "curse" and embrace hope instead.

The Path of the Abyss was never the only road available to the Undead. The Path of Hope, the Path of Repentant Enlightenment, had always been waiting to be discovered by those willing to seek it.

Thus White Bone Fist Style evolved once more into something greater.

"I have had enough of running... of watching everyone die...! This time I will fight back. I will use this big body of mine and these large, robust bones to protect what matters!"

With a powerful roar that shook the air, his aura erupted in full force. It took the form of a massive white-gold bear with gleaming ghostly eyes that shone with quiet determination. Anyone who saw it would immediately understand that Norman was no ordinary Undead.

Even the oldest Nobles might never have witnessed such a pure ghostly aura. It shone almost completely white-gold, free of the grayish ash and lingering darkness found in ordinary White Ghosts. Their purity always carried a sterile, dry quality. Norman’s purity went beyond that and felt alive with quiet resolve.

He remained an honest man, determined to stay true to himself while also changing for the better. For any Undead, true change was the greatest hurdle of all, yet he faced it without flinching.

The bear that lived within him, the true essence of who he was, had never left his side.

In mere seconds, gigantic bear paws formed from pure aura slammed into the Hollows. Their twisted bodies flattened against the ground as the damage they had tried to inflict returned to them tenfold. Two of the four Hollows died on the spot. The extreme purity of Norman’s soul unsealed the trapped spirits within them, releasing faint cries of relief into the air.

He did not fight only for Elayne. He fought for every great friend he had made since that terrible day when he lost everything as a ten-year-old boy. At last he had found a family to belong to, and he refused to let another tragedy take them away from him.

He would fight. He would stop running.

For Sailor.

For Mark.

For Elayne.

For Blank.

For Granny Yaga.

For Shade.

For Lisette.

For Little Hope.

For many more.

And for her.

A beautiful, delicate songstress who had never left his side since the day he found her. She stayed close to him at all times, as though she remained afraid of the wider world and its dangers.

Norman, who had always believed himself vulnerable, had discovered someone even more vulnerable and precious to protect. She possessed an even purer soul and an even kinder heart that needed guarding.

The Ghost Songstress had once been an opera singer in life. Her tragic end came when her city was raided by Undead forces. She was a pure soul who refused to fight or consume Nether Ghost Pills made from the souls of innocents.

Like Norman, she had been thrown into that dark pit with Elayne. Together with Little Hope they had built their own small home and eventually escaped. From the moment he met her, Norman felt emotions he had never known before. Even now, as an Undead, those feelings still left him ashamed at times, yet he could not deny them.

Yet her kindness was real, and so was the innocent heart she carried. He wanted nothing more than to protect it with everything he had.

Some say that even the weakest and frailest person always has someone even more vulnerable to safeguard. In protecting that person, they discover strength within their own fragility. Norman fully embraced this truth as he turned to face the remaining Hollows with steady eyes.

The monsters roared in fury and fired thick beams of death energy toward him. Norman surged forward without hesitation, wrapping his entire body in his special aura. The beams struck the glowing barrier and redirected harmlessly elsewhere, exploding against distant buildings and creating a loud, chaotic ruckus that echoed through the area.

He leaped high into the air and swung his heavy bony fists. His aura manifested even more strongly around him. His defensive stats converted directly into offensive power, transforming him into the ultimate tank capable of delivering crushing force whenever the moment called for it.

Dozens of attacks struck him at once. Beams of death energy exploded against his face and body with full force. Norman was battered hard, thrown to the floor before he could land a solid blow, and stomped upon repeatedly by the enraged Hollows.

And yet...

He covered his body with his thick arms and slowly began to rise again. The Hollows stared in clear disbelief. They were so accustomed to crushing everything in their path with ease that the sight of something this tough stunned them into momentary stillness. Their feet and claws snapped and broke into pieces as they tried once more to destroy him.

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