Griar narrowly evaded an attack before landing a kick right against the undead’s waist, shaving away another portion of his opponent’s HP. He quickly backed off, but stepped back onto a miasmic skull left over from a previous attack earlier. The blast pushed him forward, straight into getting struck by both of the scythes at once, throwing him into the ground, upon which he brutally bounced before managing to land back on his feet.

The red bar representing Loimos’s HP had been depleted by about one quarter so far. This was in spite of Griar managing to land numerous blows... Meanwhile, he himself was down to half of his reserves... He would actually already be dead if not for the fact that he could somewhat heal up using his gold–However, it only proved effective the first few times. The heals were getting less and less effective, and he could tell that they would soon do absolutely nothing.

The living stomped down upon the floor, grounding himself in place as he focused intensely... Not all strikes were equal. Certain portions of the undead body took away more of his HP when struck. Griar felt that he would need to at least land several consecutive blows to one of the more vulnerable parts if he wanted to have a shot at actually bringing the undead down. As things stood, Loimos still had the advantage. Even after everything that had happened, the Pure Undead was somehow still the one holding the power.

Loimos slammed his foot into the ground, manifesting a mass of bone spikes right in front of Griar’s feet. Thankfully, the living had already seen this attack several times before, although a close call every time, he was able to consistently dodge it as long as he was paying attention.

Griar evaded various kinds of projectiles–Despite melee attacks being the most obvious to see coming, Griar found them to be the most likely to hit him anyway. Loimos had two scythes to attack with, and he could also kick or even unsummon his scythes to go for other kinds of attacks on a whim. The close quarters were where things were the least predictable for Griar, but it was only by getting closer that he could actually do anything of consequence. He could still use ranged attacks, but they were pitifully feeble, even when they actually hit–Which they rarely did–The HP they would remove would be so small that it was akin to a rhinoceros being pecked by a baby sparrow.

It was a waste of time to use them. Progress could only be made by closing the distance and fighting face-to-face, man-to-man... Even if it was the most dangerous place to be.

’Loimos isn’t the king of the undeads... But he has to be the strongest undead of them all, right? If I can defeat him today... I can defeat the Undead Empire. I can save the Peaceful Realm! But...’

Griar frowned. The most damaging area to strike would have to be the undead’s head. Everything else seemed to follow this basic pattern. The limbs weren’t an effective area to target, while the abdomen was the average, and the chest was far more effective... Following this logic, the head would be a much more efficient place to attack.

However, actually hitting it was a tall order–Literally, Loimos was impressively tall, and with how aggressive he was, any attempt was likely to violently backfire. There wasn’t much else that Griar could do, unfortunately. If things continued at the pace they were going, he would be dropping dead far before Loimos got anywhere close to zero.

The living had no other choice but to be bold. He kicked off the ground, rushing at the Putrid Knight. He dodged spikes of bones, leapt over bursting puddles of rotten blood, ran around miasmic skulls, had to carefully predict piercing drops of black blood, and had to perform some back-breaking manoeuvres to not be hit by either of the scythes whilst maintaining his momentum.

So far, Griar had mostly held back from actually using his golden wind to cast spells–Primarily because spell-casting was no longer worth it in the current state of affairs, but now was a good time to make use of something.

Griar quickly manifested a platform beneath his feet, using it to rise upward while maintaining his footing, allowing him to deliver a full-powered punch directly toward Loimos’s face–As his fist neared the undead’s helm, flames manifested behind the visor.

The flames burst out before Griar could make contact, and his fist was the first thing to be engulfed–He didn’t have to worry about being burnt, but the flames were powerful enough to push him away. The goal was obvious. The living was either going to have to be slightly struck and back off, or commit and be swallowed by the dark fire for much longer, which would result in a massive loss of HP for him.

Griar’s mind told him to retreat right now, but his body refused to listen. Something pushed him forward, and he struck right through the blazing inferno, his knuckles making direct contact with the side of the Pure Undead’s helm.

Time seemed to come to a grinding halt for a split instant as a golden incandescence emerged. The flames were instantly dispelled, and both combatants were flung toward opposite ends of the area–Loimos at the foot of the two great pillars, and Griar at where the entrance of this place should normally be.

Griar had fallen to only have a single quarter of his HP left, but it had been more than worth it–He had just landed a ’Natural Stack’. He had just hit Loimos directly in the head with a Golden Glow, and the effect was noticeable. He had fought tooth and nail to remove a quarter of the undead’s HP pool before, but now? He had just removed the same amount in a single blow.

Not to mention that landing this blow had caused Griar’s golden wind to flow with even greater smoothness now. He could feel that he had a real fighting chance now... Griar rose to his feet.

Loimos had been launched to the other side of the arena, and it seemed like the Golden Glow had driven golden wind directly into him. The Pure Undead got onto one knee as he expelled the foreign energy from his body–Now was the time for Griar to capitalise on this incredible moment of luck.

He took one step forward. He was about to rush down the undead, just when the mass of darkness pulsed stronger than ever before, making him stop out of sheer instinct. He couldn’t help but look up to the throbbing dark force.

His gaze locked onto it as the darkness split itself down the middle. Revealing a pale silhouette.

"...I can never express how grateful I am. I was truly blessed to be granted such kind and loyal scions..."

’N-No way...’

Griar took a step back. He had just recently met the Golden Lady, so he knew what a Lady was like, and he could feel it coming from this pale woman without the shadow of a doubt. This ritual had actually been made to tear open a gash between worlds and allow the Pale Lady, Patron-Mother of Undeath, to step into this world and be physically present here... Where her scions were steadily conquering the entirety of this world, set on making undeath the only form of existence inhabiting it.

From the very depths down to the center of this world, to the very edges of deep space–There was no place the Undead Empire was not intent on conquering. Such total domination of a single type of existence in a world so vast and rich with the full diversity of the Blind One’s endless imagination... It was unheard of, and when one thing deemed impossible happened, it invited even more of the impossible to become possible.

Griar was made to bear witness to one of such events as the Pale Lady stepped down from the darkness and let herself fall like a feather onto Loimos’s back, instantly dispelling the golden wind within her champion as she wrapped four arms around him, remaining on his back as the Pure Undead rose from the ground, the depths beyond his visor becoming filled with a deep, dark purple light.

"...O, ornate messenger... I hear my sister’s plight..."

"...O, last rampart of the living... I am afraid that my champion will usher in an endless Golden Age... A Golden Age of Undeath..."

The Pale Lady had two physical arms and two spectral arms–One of the latter extended its hand toward Griar.

"...Accept my blessing, do not let yourself be a wandering lamb..."

The living raised his fists, not saying a word.

"...Then it shall be a fight..."

The ritual had come to an end, and the surroundings returned to what they once were when Griar first arrived here. A strong brilliance flooded from all around, but more importantly, Loimos was no longer constrained by the rules of the ritual.

Griar knew it... But he ran forth nonetheless.

He concentrated the most amount of power he could muster as the undead walked toward him.

Loimos swung his War Scythe once, walking past as the living crumbled to the ground. His body was intact, but his so-called ’HP’ had been depleted. The gold left his body.

The Pale Lady got down from her champion’s back, looking up at Loimos with a warm smile on her face.

"My Dear Champion. You have fought for so long. You have brought me the greatest gift I could ask for, allowing me to meet with my beloved scions by connecting my world to this one... Allow me to perform a miracle"

"Allow me to make this world what it is destined to become"

"Let all be dead... Together"