Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead-Chapter 339: Fear The Night : Copper
Halberd and fists flashed past one another, Halbardier Pierre-Ornée and Nosferatu, Of The Foetid Blood were locked in constant exchange of blows, moving at neck breaking speeds for the smallest of thing, the eternal night filled with the gravelord’s laughter, for every punch he landed, the halbardier would land three, spinning his halberd masterfully, Nosferatu now understood completely where the copper knight ungodly strength and masterful martial arts were coming from.
To give up power in one form was to trade the talent and future held in this aspect to another, but what if one gave it all up? All energies, the arts, special artefacts, the system in its entirety, all to focus entirely on one’s simple flesh.
"You are a most fine specimen, Pierre-Ornée! I bet that even the king wouldn’t be capable of turning you into an undead without your authorisation!" laughing madly, Nosferatu burst forth, but both combatants were already at their utmost, and neither was triumphing, none had the edge.
The halbardier stepped back, and grabbed something wrapped in clothes and tied by abnormally tough ropes, it had been upon the back of Pierre-Ornée the entire time, and only now was he unfurling it, revealing some sort of metallic arm, with hints of bright orange, malformed and with a complete gap in the middle, still, the two parts remained together despite this void, and it was still moving.
Nosferatu raised one his bushy eyebrows, the living throwing this disembodied limb in the air, the thing flying away, as if pulled somewhere else.
"Oh oh… Ah… Was this thing hindering your movements? Now that’s interesting! But really, what is this?" he rubbed his chin, intercepting a thrust of the halberd, revelling in the fact that the living was indeed faster than before, meaning that Pierre-Ornée was faster than the gravelord.
Not by much, but any physical advantage over Nosferatu was an achievement worthy of being sung for generations.
"Who knows? I didn’t want to give that thing its arm back, but I might as well at this point-" the copper knight was interrupted, both him and the undead having their attention taken by the sudden bright orange shine in the distance.
"-But well, apparently he is called ’Nameless King, First Of The Hollows’, if he can get warmed up, he should be at least as strong as us" Pierre-Ornée casually mentioned, although short, he had never forgotten his encounter with the being summoned by the last of the defilers, a being smouldering with the defiler’s flame, the fire of heresy.
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A being that held influence over the fire unlike any other, he had beaten it down before it could properly even manifest and conjured up his power, Pierre-Ornée most certainly could have destroyed it had he wanted to, it was the perfect opportunity, but instead, he had used the fact that it prioritised reconstructing itself over unleashing its full power to trap it underwater.
Keeping the nameless king around for when he might be needed, which was right now.
Like a profaned shooting star, a stream of condensed flames crashed in between the gravelord and champion.
’This was quicker than I imagined’ the copper knight thought, the Nameless King rising from a crater of heretical flames rose his coiled sword high, turning toward Pierre-Ornée, and then Nosferatu, directing his blade at the both of them, but the living was not planning on taking part, sending forth of burst of wind, aiming to slip away and come to the help of his fellows.
’Would have been too easy…’ he shook his head, a curtain of defiling flames rose, encompassing a wide area, the First Of The Hollows was not allowing anyone to leave, Pierre-Ornée vowed upon his pledge.
The veil of flames appeared like a tower from a distance, its profaned shine capable of piercing through the night, allowing all to see it as the pillar stretched out far into the sky, but few stopped to stare at it.
Bough was focused on trying to squash the ghoul lord, the little thing with messed up limbs that twisted in every direction had even seemingly told the minor lords to go on their ways, leaving Vwoldtnir to take care of the strongest living shield, chest and ribs split open, the gravelord’s inner light exploded outward multiple times consecutively, most people would be blinded forever by only one, but Bough was not most people, he was a copper knight that served alongside Pierre-Ornée as a personal knight of his majesty Agilulf Wanneck, if the halbardier was the spear, then he would be the shield.
Striking his chest, slamming his shield into the ground, Bough leapt into the air, slamming down with all of his weight, lifting the soil and the gravelord by the same occasion, swinging his shield, flat side first, he stirred the winds, attempting to take the ghoul into the currents, but Vwoldtnir used his four arms to grasp onto pieces of the earth that had been risen, using them as leverage to send his small stature spinning through the winds, landing right onto the shield as it was swung, the lord’s claws managing to dig into the copper-coloured shield.
Crawling up its surface, climbing onto the very top of it right as Bough slammed the front into the ground, leaping forth, Vwoldtnir wrapped all four arms around the knight’s helm, charging up his blinding light at point blank.
"Gehahah! Try me little ghoul!" rather than trying to wrench the gravelord off, he closed his eyes, not very effective against the gravelord’s light, but better than nothing, Bough trusted in his defences, and instead held his shield with both hands, headbutting it, the undead right in between.
The lightshow was accompanied by most horrendous music, Vwoldtnir’s body was relatively feeble compared to other gravelords, but he was built to dig and burrow, he was inimaginable flexible and malleable, so he took the risk and continuously erupted with his light as he was being battered, until eventually, Bough grabbed the ghoul lord and threw him away, grasping at his helm, his eyes bloodshot, the veins red and clearly visible, some of them having already ruptured and painted the scleras with stains of crimson.
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But his sight was not yet lost, his extraordinary constitution was to be praised, without much delay, he went right back to attack, dropping on top of the gravelord, sensing a distinct lack of crushing, the ghoul having burrowed right into the ground, dropping below ground like it was water, remerging below Bough’s right foot grabbing onto it, and lifting.
Managing to pick the shieldmaster off the ground for a brief moment, the living reacting predictably, stomping down to break free and step right on the ground, but this time, the ground gave in, within less than a second, Vwoldtnir had carved an underground system that would precisely come crashing down if Bough stomped.
The copper knight was free falling.
