Chapter 162
Erich slowly gauged the distance between himself and the Death Lord.
The undulating force of erosion behind the Death Lord's back writhed as if it might surge forward at any moment.
Of course, the actual physical distance between Erich and the Death Lord was still quite far.
But both knew that, at their level, such a gap meant nothing.
'He brushed aside that aura I just used so easily. I can't take him lightly.'
The sword energy Erich had sent earlier was merely a formality, yet never before had it been so utterly ineffective.
That spoke to how overwhelming the Death Lord's power was.
However, perhaps the Death Lord had never before seen such power, for after that attack, his eyes fixated on Erich.
He must have at least recognized Erich as a threat.
― Kwarrrk
The Death Lord's chains swung with a hideous sound.
However, since there were no threads of murderous intent connected, it seemed he had no intention of attacking right away.
Even so, his very demeanor felt like a warning sign to Erich. He sensed that the Death Lord was weighing something.
'Is he considering whether this is a situation where he must act personally?'
Death knights and necromancers were arrayed around the Death Lord.
Yet those under his grasp were not moving hastily. They only watched Erich all the more intently.
Amidst all this, an intense explosion echoed from all directions, apart from this standoff.
Mikhail's slashes were cleaving through the enemies.
The Death Lord's gaze shifted that way.
It seemed, after some thought, he now considered Mikhail to be the greater threat. However—
'I can't let that happen.'
Erich gripped his sword with purpose.
― Whoosh!
Golden flames blazed along the blade.
But unlike before, these flames shimmered along the sword in an iridescent, scale-like pattern.
At this, the Death Lord's white eyes turned back to Erich.
He, too, could instinctively sense how dangerous the attack Erich was preparing could be.
Soon, something small condensed on Erich's blade amid a fierce surge of heat.
It was the power with which he had previously one-shotted a lich.
The power to forge a sun-like force was once again recreated.
But, unlike before, Erich now channeled this power through his sword instead of his hand.
This was his own effort to find the optimal form of that power.
― Pop!
Erich closed the gap at speed.
Immediately, the Death Lord's black chains lashed out at Erich, slamming into the stone and iron around him, twisting like snakes to crush him.
But then—
― Shhreeee!
Erich swung his sword at the black chains rushing toward him. The golden arc cleaved the chain cleanly in two.
As the cut edges lost their power, the force of erosion dispersed into the air.
The severed chain grew faint, then lost its form and vanished.
A satisfied smile spread across Erich's lips.
'Clean.'
He made his aura even thinner and sharper. This was something he had learned from his master, Mikhail.
However, Erich's own variation was to stretch that power as thinly as possible, unlike the extremely wasteful technique he'd used previously.
The black chains, usually of incredible strength, had once only been able to be parried, never destroyed.
That had been a unique trait that gave Erich and other swordsmen a hard time before his regression.
Now, though, Erich was able to cut the Death Lord's chains with an aura merged with Incensus's power—so it was impossible not to feel satisfaction.
'Still, it's not enough for my true goal.'
Moreover, although the increased strength was important, the sensation when using it was uncomfortable.
It also couldn't be launched at an enemy from range.
Still, Erich chose to be satisfied with such progress, viewing it as a major step forward.
On the other hand, the Death Lord stared at Erich after seeing his own chain severed.
The attack seemed to have piqued his interest greatly.
Then—
― KWAANG!!!
Reflexively, Erich raised his sword to block. Had he not sensed the thread of murderous intent, he might have been struck directly.
Erich's golden power gleamed before his eyes, struggling not to be devoured by the black eroding force pouring from the Death Lord's massive greatsword.
'I didn't even really see his attack.'
The Death Lord's strike was instantaneous. Once his chains were cut, he himself launched an attack at Erich—a blow shrouded in a corroding energy so powerful it hurt just to look at.
Of course, Erich already knew the Death Lord's true might resided in his own body.
The black chains were nasty and unpredictable techniques, but the Death Lord himself was always a higher entity than any death knight.
It was his own martial prowess that was the true power of the Death Lord.
― Huff!
Exhaling, Erich shoved the Death Lord's greatsword aside with all his might.
An explosive burst of golden energy forced some space between them.
Erich's counterattack followed immediately. One, two, three golden lines.
Multiple attacks from different directions rained down on the Death Lord in an instant.
The Death Lord, however, lazily twisted his greatsword and nullified all those strikes.
Then, as soon as Erich's attack ceased—
― KWAGWANG!!!
With an explosion, the black chains surged at Erich all at once.
It was as if dozens of snakes were writhing to bite Erich apart.
Yet Erich, at the center of the assault, swiftly severed the heads of those snakes, keeping his distance from the Death Lord.
To deal effective damage to him, he would have to repeat that earlier attack, which was something he couldn't use from range.
If he was to do more than simply defend, Erich needed to maintain the optimal distance for using his current power—one which could strike through the force of erosion.
He continued to press the Death Lord, probing for any opening.
But neither Erich's blade nor the Death Lord's greatsword managed to wound the other.
This was a duel between those who had ascended to the utmost heights.
A single successful hit would instantly widen the gap beyond repair.
Thus, enveloped in golden and black light, the two continued to attack each other, each aiming for that single decisive moment.
***
Ungrim's barbarians came to a halt. A scene exceeding their expectations was unfolding before them.
They had, naturally, expected Hrung-ga and his subordinates to be troublesome—such was Hrung-ga's reputation among the barbarians.
But what exceeded their expectations were the Watch's crows, who they had thought were just small fry.
Moreover, it wasn't just a matter of being a bit more troublesome—their counterattack was far fiercer than anticipated.
"Push forward!"
The two swordsmen leading the charge—Frederick and Barnes, if the names they heard were right—were giving them a hard time.
The ground around them was littered with barbarians who had fallen, barely clinging to life.
What's more, the Watch forces would sometimes seem to retreat, only to launch a sudden counterattack and then fall back again.
Although it was obvious they were trying to lure them, Ungrim's men couldn't go on the all-out offensive because of it.
― KKANG!
Whenever they tried to press the attack even a little, Hrung-ga—wielding his rough-edged iron club—would step in to block Ungrim's barbarians.
Here, there was only one warrior who could face Hrung-ga: Balmung did his best to wound Hrung-ga.
His sharp scythe cut fiercely at Hrung-ga, but Hrung-ga would dodge with strange, agile movements each time.
Not only that—Hrung-ga also coordinated the surrounding forces, deftly pulling them back during the clash with the Watch.
He was exceptionally skilled in joint attacks.
Balmung ground his teeth loudly as he watched Hrung-ga, once again withdrawing after an attack.
[Damn bastard! Come back here, you coward!]
Balmung roared in frustration. But even faced with the gravest of insults, Hrung-ga only moved further away.
Balmung wanted to chase after him alone, but knew that if he left his allies behind and became isolated, it would lead to disaster.
'Damn it!'
In the end, it came down to Ungrim's barbarians having significantly less skill than the Watch and Hrung-ga's subordinates.
As time went by, Balmung only grew more agitated.
They were far from where they'd started—so far, in fact, that the dead were no longer in sight.
With no idea what was happening there, they might find themselves attacked from both sides.
'Maybe this is what they're aiming for?'
Acting as if they were fighting the dead and Balmung's barbarians separately, only to join forces and launch a combined attack—Balmung, of course, assumed the target of that maneuver would be his group.
After all, actually confronting the Death Lord head-on was basically suicidal.
'That would be insane—no one but a madman would try it.'
Balmung couldn't help but recall the Death Lord's monstrous power.
That force was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen.
It was a primal fear, the sense of danger that only the living could feel.
He did not despair in the face of that overwhelming existence for just one reason—because he knew of someone who possessed power greater than the Death Lord.
But at that moment, everyone froze in their tracks.
Thunderous explosions boomed repeatedly from beyond the ridge.
[Wh-what's that? A landslide?]
What they witnessed, however, was a tremendous collision of powers—the shockwave of it splitting the clouds in the sky in two with a horrific display.
Only then did Balmung realize which side the others had chosen.
They... seemed to have resolved to take on the Death Lord directly.
And, perhaps, it seemed there really was someone there who could make it possible.
'I don't know what kind of monster could do it, but...'
Right then—
[... Time for us to settle things, too?]
Balmung again found himself facing Hrung-ga and his smiling face.
As if he'd been waiting for this very moment, Hrung-ga's fangs glinted, a predator intent on his prey.