ushernet Chapter 434 Worth
Chapter 434 Worth
"Ah ah! You defend well with that big sword of yours, but what about offence?
Would you mind swinging it for a moment?!" relentlessly hammering away with his fists, like a machine with only one purpose, Frenand was hitting so hard that the gauntlets upon his fits were being flattened and extended from the repetitive strikes, cracks steadily forming upon the black iron, the pride of the undead forges was being reduced to pieces.
'A mad dog...' Alisart Cleavster was familiar with those, blooddrunk warriors that only sought battles after battles in a manic frenzy, seekers of conflict were plentiful, but only a handful of them could be regarded as obsessed.
It was clear, this undead would not be backing off even if his arms and legs were slashed off, if anything, only the orders of a higher-ranking officer would get him to retreat, and said superior was further behind, holding onto his sword limply, letting it swing from side to side like some sort pendulum, something definitely gathering up as he was doing so.
Obviously, Ourlst had not enunciated his plan in the pale tongue, so the warking was none the wiser about what was being done exactly, but there was typically a constant in every fight of all kinds, which was to not let an enemy just do whatever they wanted, problem being that Cleavster had to get past Frenand in order to do just that, and as the left hand had claimed, he was not the best fighter around.@@@@
His knights and soldiers were having a hard time all around, especially with the other lieutenants of the dead.
Stomping down, Alisart's strength was enough to shake the ground, swinging his greatsword with all of his weight, feet stanced to perfectly, hips twisting like immaculate clockwork, posture enough to send waves of dread through the bones of lesser warriors, the undead was unfazed and rushed forward, crouching underneath the wide slash, punching up at the finger's holding up the handle, the position did not allow for an especially powerful blow, but it was enough to disrupt the king's flawless grasp, allowing for a follow-up. Enjoy more content from My Virtual Library Empire
Bringing his right hand back, left hand forward, moving it back as the other moved forward, landing a right hook straight in Cleavster's helm, bending it inward, a good sign, the living did not budge however, that was not a great sign.
Grabbing the undead by the back of the skull, with a groan, headbutted Frenand, causing a blast of chainmail to explode outward, flaying the veil all soldiers of the vanguard wore over their head, revealing exactly what kind of undead the champion was.
Stumbling back from the sheer strength of the blow, rising one foot, Frenand dug his heel into the soil, stopping himself from falling backward, as the veil slid off, the undead grabbed what remained of it and just completely tore it off, clacking his jaw, teeth perfectly lined up, an angular and thick skull shape, unlike the typical skeleton, Frenand's body was especially dense, giving him an especially strong defence and strength naturally, also allowing for a denser quantity of death force to course within the hollow marrow.
Apart from this, he was perfectly clean and white, as though tended to regularly, free of any rot, mummified remains or anything of the likes, clacking his jaw together again, producing a loud sound boom, striking both knuckles together, he shattered his gauntlets once and for all, exposing his bony fingers and hands.
Without saying anything, only clacking his jaw repeatedly, sounding like a malfunctioning bear trap, clenching both fists, striking the living's sword once more, significantly stronger than before, so Alisart responded in kind, exchanging blow for blow, his greatsword was surprisingly resistant, Frenand was trying to shatter it with every punch, with every kick, striking with his elbow, the living pushed him away and dug half of his blade into the ground, uprooting the ground before him into a volley of dirt, bursting forward, tackling into the undead, who ate the full force by redirecting to the side, throwing the living away, or at least attempting to as Cleavster grappled as well.
"R-"
"Frenand, that will be enough"
The undead froze and stepped back, the sudden presence that seemed to engulf him retracting into nothingness.
Ourlst was done, his sword planted into the ground, a scale now held within his left hand.
Tilting to neither side, simply emitting a wide sensation of deep discomfort within the living.
Hunger constricted the stomachs of all, sapping away all strength, the bodies of each and every one of them trying to reach into every possible reserve to stop them from starving.
"I guess... This is goodbye" Cleavster said, only that he was smiling, with a clear hint of disappointment, but without sign of worry or fear.
Bringing some sort of roundish object in between his teeth, bitting it into pieces, and in the blink of an eye, all that still held onto life vanished.
"..."
"Teleportation?" commented Frenand.
"I know what it is, was this one of those meals from the feasters? Dammit..." realising that escape was always open, Ourlst fell to one knee, the scale of famine falling apart.
Ourlst never had the chance to end things here.