Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Chapter 328 Fear The Night : Proper

In the darkness beyond the mountains, lines of destruction spread throughout the confusing landscape of Tokstrom, Continental Fortress of the undead empire, compressed winds split stone and air, like massive detonations rippling through the eternal night, Nosferatu struck those raging winds head-on, dispelling the crushing unseen blade.

Moving in the blink of an eye, Pierre-Ornée thrusted at the vampires face, twisting his weapon after it missed, creating a sudden vortex, cutting into the gravelord's face, the wounds remaining for less than a second, the copper knight could barely even see them appearing.

Swinging again, it was blocked, Nosferatu replied with a jab, the knight evading with a back step, planting his halberd into the ground, the flat roof of a nondescript building, he launched pieces of debris at his opponent, the stone used here much tougher than anything he was used to, his idea went through anyways.

With a clap of his hands, the vampire dispersed everything, the resulting sonic boom, whistling in the living's ears, the mark of a graze was etched upon the side of his helm, the two combatants stood opposite to one another, holding his halberd's handle high up, most of it hidden behind his arm and back.

They had begun fighting for a little while now, the sound of the barrier cracking in the distance served as a reminder that life was on the losing side, by now, each and every heavy hitter of Tamaris had probably gone to face the gravelords, he could not know for certain, all that he knew was that Nosferatu was tough nut to crack, in the very first instants of their confrontation, Pierre-Ornée had managed to blast the undead's head into pieces, a mere feint as even without it he managed to land a strike upon the helm.

Regrowing his head entirely, Nosferatu was wholly unfazed.

At least physically, the vampire lord was elated otherwise, he had not been told bollocks, the halbardier was truly the strongest warrior of Tamaris, without life force and without mana, a pure warrior capable of holding his own against the strongest gravelord.

In fact, as Nosferatu rose both of his hands, the surroundings drowned in the king's darkness, basked in the glorious dark of the black sun, the continental-wide fortress was empty in the surroundings, Luminary Nitok had taken precautions ahead of time, having predicted who would take up the job and challenge his gravelords, his dominion had expended far beyond its previous reaches, Tamaris was but a miniature oasis sitting somewhere in his territory.

Nosferatu was a gravelord, but before Loimos had officially taken up the mantle, Nosferatu had been an unofficial champion and repressive agent in the name of Nitok, he had slaughtered countless living champions and heroes, of all kinds, from all corners of Viridis and even from other continents, the first war had been difficult, the continent had been wild and rich with strife many years before the rise of the undead empire.

Dragons had still been numerous, there had been a king of monsters, kings of beasts, bloody emperors who only knew strength to rule, he had crushed many skulls like grapes, mages, warriors of all sorts, the diversity in energies had been otherwise more pronounced back then.

Nosferatu knew to recognise any source of any power at a glance, and yet, he was forced to admit that he did not know what had made Pierre-Ornée the man that he was, when striking him, when analysing his movements, he felt no energies, no innate abilities, no traces of the system even.

Nosferatu made himself the strongest by employing everything available and unifying it all, but Pierre-Ornée had made himself the strongest by doing the opposite.

Striking both of his fists together, Nosferatu licked his teeth with a laugh.

"I had heard of the possibility, but I was not quite aware that divesting oneself of everything in exchange of true physical power could be so rewarding" fingers cracking, he clenched his fists.

"You'll make fine food for The Graveyard!" stepping forward with a boom, they clashed once more, a deluge of shredded flesh and heavy blows, ever regenerating, never faltering.

The barrier cracked louder than ever before.