Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 59: Lightning and Death

"Face the wrath of my lightning, you outworlder!"

The Lightning Mage thrust out his wielding hand, summoning a ball of lightning on the round head of his scepter, and blasting straight at the traitorous Hero.

Percival activated ⸢Radiant Guard⸥, creating a silver shield that took and absorbed the brunt of thunder ball.

As the sparks and acrid smoke erupted, Percival swung his sword, blasting out in a sudden attack. ⸢Flash Strike⸥ blitzed him toward the Mage, cleaving across his chest.

The Mage drew backwards.

He glanced down at his chest plate. A searing red line burned there for a while, before evaporating.

Percival, now standing with his sword held low, narrowed his eyes.

The Highbards monopoly on Awakener Equipment was clearly how this Mage had gotten such high quality armor.

"What exactly is this Necromancer Class?" the Mage asked with a scoff. "If I didn’t know better I would have taken you for a Swordsman."

Percival offered no reply. He was a statue of cold intent.

"Hmph," the Mage swirled his scepter before leveling it. "Acting so pompous when you’re only a Lvl 26. Do you think you can challenge me, Zoron, a Lvl 78 Lightning Mage?!"

Letting out a grunt, he slammed the base of his scepter into the ground. Mana screamed outward as the sky answered him.

"Let me show you my Storm Authority!"

A pillar of white-blue lightning crashed down where Percival had stood. But the thunder struck nothing but stone.

The Swordsman had already moved.

He ⸢Grave Stepped⸥ and appeared close to Zoron’s side. Using his feet for forward momentum, he swung his blade for the Mage’s neck.

Zoron saw the threat in time.

Being a Lightning Mage, Speed and Agility were high Attributes he owned. This allowed him to raise his scepter just in time.

Lightning condensed around the staff, forming a crackling wall. When Lightpiercer struck it, the result was an ear-shattering KABOOM!

The impact detonated thunder outward, blasting both men apart.

"Ughh!"

Percival slid back ten meters, his hair falling over his face as his sabatons carved twin furrows through the rugged floor.

Smoke curled from his armor. But his arm remained stilled to his blade, his body solid.

Having a high Constitution meant that strikes like these—regardless of their output—had little effect on his health.

Zoron’s eyes widened. "Still standing even after that?! How high is your Constitution?"

Percival still said nothing.

The Lightning Mage spat. "Whatever! Let’s see how much you can endure when I hit you with this!"

"Chain Lightning! Scatter Pattern!"

Bolts erupted from the scepter, branching wildly.

The heir’s room collapsed inwardly, turning into a cage of death. Lightning snapped, whipped, and converged, all of it heading straight at Percival.

For a heartbeat, Percival was perfectly still, using his heightened to map the chaos. Every bolt of lightning, every stone coming at him.

The pattern was arbitrary, but if he was fast enough, he could go through it all and strike the Mage without taking any damage.

⸢Speed: 875⸥

Percival was fast enough.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

The rapid song of his greaves against stone rang out as he raced toward the danger rather than away from it.

He launched himself, placing his feet on one of the stones hurling in his direction, and used the momentum to push himself toward the shocked Mage.

Lightning ripped across his pauldron. His armor absorbed the heat as more bolts of the blue light zapped around him.

Then, he activated ⸢Bladewave⸥, channeling ⸢Soulfire⸥ into the edge of his sword.

Zoron tried to track back as fast as he could, but Percival was right in his face in little time.

He slashed the sword on the Lightning Mage’s chest, with ⸢Bladewave⸥ and ⸢Soulfire⸥ exploding out of the attack.

This created a double slash.

The physical attack struck the armor, the arc of death mana from ⸢Bladewave and Soulfire⸥ extended out of the physical slash and broke through the armor’s defense, catching flesh and rupturing Zoron’s soul.

"Arghh!" he yelled as the force catapulted him into the far wall with a sickening crunch of stone.

Percival landed in front of him, as the stones fell and the lightning sizzled off.

He raised his blade to end the Mage, but Zoron, opening his eyes in time, lifted his scepter and blocked the attack.

Clang!

"Eat thunder, outworlder!"

Zoron extended his free hand and shot a bolt of blue right at Percival’s face.

With no helm, it was a direct hit, sending Percival blasting high into the air and crashing through a section of the ceiling in a shower of timber and dust.

Zoron found his feet. He touched his chest where Percival’s attack had struck. His fingers were wet with blood.

Zoron grunted, looking up at the cave in the high wall where Percival had hit. "You have such explosive output for a Lvl 26."

He coughed raggedly. "You’re also very fast. But you’re still predictable!"

"Am I?"

Percival’s voice was right behind him.

While the Mage had focused on the ceiling, Percival had used ⸢Grave Step⸥.

"Haa!!" Zoron looked over his shoulder.

Percival swung his sword.

In a clap of thunder, the Mage vanished, reappearing twenty feet to the left.

"Begone, brat!" he pointed his scepter at point-blank range.

⸢Skill: Thunder Clap⸥

A concussive wave of sound and pressure exploded. Percival wove past the first two, but as he triggered ⸢Grave Step⸥ again, he emerged directly into the path of the third.

He was thrown back, exploding out of the wall and into the bloodied corridor, his boots treading grooves into the stone as he skidded.

The smell of smoke and iron was almost choking him.

This Lightning Mage, Zoron, wasn’t just high level; he was a specialist in keeping melee fighters at bay.

"That’s what all you Mages do, isn’t it?" Percival muttered. "You’re only good at ranged attacks. You can’t withstand a true close-quarters battle so you keep trying to keep me at a distance."

Zoron chuckled. "Kekeke. So you’ve figured it out? With wits like that you should have awakened as a Scholar."

"You want distance?" Percival spat.

He lifted Lightpiercer and returned it into his swordhold.

The Lightning Mage raised a brow. "What are you doing?"

Percival’s hand moved to the other weapon hanging behind him.

He drew the War-Scythe of Black Iron.

The massive, obsidian-dark blade seemed to drink the ambient light as its weight settled into Percival’s grip.

Zoron’s eyes widened, amused as he was. "A scythe? You would swap a B-Grade sword for a farmer’s tool?"

Percival spun the scythe skillfully with his fingers then tightened the shaft on his grip. He glared at Zoron with emotionless predatory eyes.

Zoron laughed. "Stop showing off and just surrender, outworlder!"

He extended his scepter once again to summon lightning.

But Percival gave him no time. He swung the War-Scythe, pouring ⸢Soulfire⸥ into the crescent blade.

Unlike the sword, because of the curved shape of the scythe’s blade and its size, it created a larger energy output.

This arc of ⸢Soulfire⸥ spread out through the room, leaving no space for escape.

A rupturing blaze of blue soul energy, heading for Zoron’s soul.