Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Chapter 306 Key

Within the pyramidal barrier, moments before life's champion departed for his promised duel with death's chosen champion, Thanatok Ynigós stands with one knee on the ground, hands cradling something, surrounded by two women, descendants of proud warriors he had met during the first undead war.@@@@

In all his years as The First Death Hunter prior to his turning into Sun-Walker, he had only ever found a handful of people he had true respect for, for their character, for their stalwartness, and for their might.

Maiele Liameilos was one of them of course, like him, she was undying and ever-living, although it was naught but an aspect of her magnificent elven lineage, which she was the last representant of, he held a great deal of admiration for her, viewing the Elven Light as an equal, who had clashed with the likes of The Defiler, even if she claimed to not have been the one to bring him down, brushing with the original wielded of the heretical flame was an exploit, it was said that none could resist his fire.

It was certainly unfortunate that Sun-Walker and The First Seed had to inherit part of that admiration and twist it in the ways they had.

The two descendants were far from being as resplendent as their ancestor, Yuhu, the rabbitfolk woman was brash and undisciplined, although still using the ancient fighting style created long ago to topple the great corpse giants, it had lost much of its allure.

And Lylya, of pezerxian descent with demon blood, she still practised the ancestral dance, but she was no fighter at all, frankly, he thought them weak and unfit to fight against the dead, it was not his place to tell anyone off however and it was always heartwarming to find the traits of his old friends in them.

His hands were approaching one another, compressing a sphere of life, Lylya was exerting the old desert dance, which empowered allies and even ally construct, Thanatok had rallied everyone he could to assist him with this compressed ball of his devouring life, the modern champions serving for Tamaris were not half-bad, he could see them managing to avoid a total defeat.

Although they were looking into ways to flee from battle if the tides were irreversibly turned, he did not bother chastising them.

Various magical contraptions and arts were helping him in his creation of this sphere, hiding its presence, empowering it even further than the normal upper limit, it was already unusual for the death hunter to focus on an attack, capable of firing off blasts that could mow through great undeads on a whim, but today was different, he was fighting who he believed to be his fated enemy.

He was treating it like he was fighting himself, like Loimos and him were one and the same, separated from some otherworldly being that once ruled over both life and death, like this duel would settle something cosmic.

Most of all however, it was deemed to be a good fight, he could not go in carelessly, he could not reveal all of his cards from the get-go, no matter how few he actually held, this would be a monumental fight, and this sort of confrontation called for the core of combat to be put to use- Trickery.

A good warrior was one that had no honour, lied and fooled without shame, yet, that could crush others even without their usage, a good warrior was versatile.

Nosferatu's stack and regenerative mastery were of no particular use.

Vwoldtnir's blinding light would not stop the oncoming strike.

Vespertillo's power over aspects of beasts might help him wrench himself out of here, but his lack of power output meant that time would be insufficient.

Atsalinopalo's skillset fell under the same problem, it could help soften the blow but the fist was soon to strike.

Multaemanus's death tongue mastery and spectral hands were both too complex to pull off on a switch in this state.

Körpersucher's ghostly form and possessive abilities were out of the question, life would tear Loimos to pieces corporeal or not, especially the devouring life.

Slotriig's swordsmanship and Unacunerra's spellcasting served no purpose in this instant.

Faraday's, Irmandos's and Artencil's teaching also had no direct applications right now.

Loimos's purple glow heightened as he recovered bit by bit, but this was not due to this, this brightening was not the ghoul lord's technique either, the undead's body was cracking, allowing the glow to peer through as it came from within his bones, not his hollow sockets as usual.

This gave Thanatok Ynigós a pause of the mind, but not of the body, he did not stop his momentum as Loimos weaved in a technique, holding it up with arts and conditions, like hoisting up a rock using twigs and damp strands rope, all that mattered in the end, was that it worked.

Exploding into a cloud of festering death, blood, miasma, putrescence, extreme heat and cold intertwined.

The First Death Hunter had to recover from this blast, as an abomination propped itself up from the crater.