Chapter 163
The Death Lord's eyes gleamed. The aura of black erosion swirling around him scattered in the air, losing its force.
The Death Lord gazed intently at his surroundings. It seemed he was closely watching the swordsman who had struck him with a blow.
That swordsman, of course, was Mikhail, enveloped in a faint, pale white heat from quite a distance away.
'No matter how many times I see it, it's awe-inspiring.'
Mikhail was busy dealing with the surrounding dead, but in that fleeting moment, he had also delivered a blow to the Death Lord.
Moreover, the power in that strike was not something to be ignored.
It held enough destructive force to instantly disperse the Death Lord's nearly impregnable aura of erosion.
Certainly, in terms of sheer aura output, Erich would be superior.
However, there was something in Mikhail's swordsmanship beyond raw power.
At any rate—
After receiving such a blow, the Death Lord also appeared to be bracing himself for Mikhail's sudden attack.
For good reason—there was a subtle crack precisely where Mikhail's sword had grazed the Death Lord's armor.
Seizing the brief moment Mikhail had bought him, Erich assessed the situation.
'It looks like Hrung-ga is starting to counterattack as well. Maybe I should press forward here too.'
Erich recalled the moments he had exchanged swords with the Death Lord.
His hand gripping the sword felt lighter than ever before, despite the Death Lord's heavy strikes...
There, Erich realized something peculiar. There was something more important than output.
Maybe Mikhail, both before and after his regression, had always tried to convey this to Erich.
*Click.*
Erich steadied his sword once again. The Death Lord's attention remained fixed on Mikhail.
'A form of power that suits me...'
A power he couldn't properly use even before regressing.
Yet Erich knew well that the power granted by Incensus was no ordinary thing.
And then, there were those beings close to gods.
The power bestowed by the Lord of the Dead or Incensus was inscribed with something mysterious, called a "divine ritual".
Before, when he didn't know its true nature, perhaps he would have been clueless. But now?
"I think I've begun to understand something."
Erich's aura flowed down his arm, scattering in a golden shimmer.
But this time, its form differed slightly from before.
Instead of channeling it through his sword, he was letting it flow through his bare hand.
And this time, Erich did not focus on "imagining" the form of the sun.
Where his gaze fell was instead upon the Death Lord's aura of erosion and the black chains.
*Whoosh!*
Erich's golden eyes blazed like a flame.
His pupils resonated with the golden light, and the scenery reflected in his vision was deeper, darker than any before.
In that vision, he could see the divine ritual—tiny sigils that allowed ordinary aura to be imbued with different properties.
*Crack.*
With a strange noise, the divine ritual of Erich's flame shifted subtly—not moving as it was given, but because Erich willed it himself.
It struck Erich that the key to wielding this power lay in the divine ritual itself.
Thus, Erich tried to imitate as closely as possible the power of the divine ritual possessed by the dead.
'Looking back, it's the obvious conclusion.'
The Lord of the Dead wields a power of his own.
No matter how close to godhood he is, such power cannot be infinite.
If he were truly that kind of being, he could simply sweep his hand once and end everything.
If the power the dead wield is just another form of aura, a new possibility emerges: just how efficient is their power, truly?
He could transmit power even from a remote distance, share immense force with all his subordinates, and still possess power akin to a force of nature himself.
Thus, there was no need for Erich to look elsewhere.
All he had to do was to refer to the power he had constantly witnessed and fought against in his enemies.
*Fwoooom!*
In an instant, a golden wave spread out from Erich.
The breathing of the dead who brushed against the gentle, steady golden ripple turned into groans of agony.
*Growl...*
The Death Lord's gaze snapped instantly to Erich.
He had no choice; something long and gleaming in gold had appeared in Erich's previously empty hand.
It was a sword.
More radiant than anything, a flame in golden light that brought a sense of peace just to behold.
That flame, like rice stalks rippling across a field, shone in gold, exuding a calming, peaceful glow.
Yet, it was only humans who felt calm upon seeing it.
The dead, on the contrary, grew more agitated.
Just as humans found the power of the dead repulsive, to them, Erich's power felt no different.
The corners of Erich's mouth slowly curled up.
*Bam!*
Suddenly, black chains poured out from the Death Lord.
Each one held murderous intent, saturated with the serpent-like aura of erosion.
*Clang, clang, clang!*
Erich, no longer empty-handed, skillfully parried the black chains with the sword he now held.
There was a clear intent to kill in the Death Lord's strikes, even heavier than before.
'He feels threatened by this power.'
*Crash!*
Erich swiftly moved past the side of a black chain.
He narrowly avoided it, but his peculiar, offbeat timing made dodging attacks much easier for him.
Yet, it seemed the Death Lord no longer intended to just size him up.
His body shifted quickly, and he appeared before Erich in the blink of an eye.
*Crack!*
"Ugh!"
The sound of cutting wind erupted in all directions—a blast powerful enough to make even the surrounding dead and members falter.
The Death Lord's strike tried to break Erich's stance. Immediately, follow-up attacks flew in, and the black chains tracing bizarre arcs sought Erich's life at every moment.
*Shhhk!*
Moreover, even the usually silent Death Lord exhaled a frigid breath from his mouth.
The eerie glow from his skull-like face and the icy air he breathed out overlapped, altogether embodying the legendary god of death.
And yet, Erich did not yield. Even in the face of the Death Lord's relentless assault, he managed to carve out an escape route time and again.
If there was no other way, he would twist the sword's trajectory.
What could the Death Lord be thinking at this moment?
He might not know what Erich was preparing, but he knew it was dangerous.
That's why he didn't let up, never giving Erich a moment's rest.
However, he likely was unaware why Erich wasn't yet unleashing the sword of fire and light imbued with the divine ritual he'd so painstakingly created.
And then, in that instant—
*Crack, crack, crack!*
A massive slash descended from above, tearing through the Death Lord's aura of erosion.
The impact was so powerful that it cracked the very ground beneath the Death Lord's feet.
It was Mikhail's support.
Even in that moment, Mikhail was battling six death knights at once and fending off the necromancers' spells from afar.
In that opening, the Death Lord's stance swayed.
Erich had no intention of missing such an opportunity.
From below, upward.
The sword infused with the power of the sun, previously only gripped in Erich's hand, was swung.
*Fwoosh!*
At a speed almost impossible to believe, his sword slashed, burning the body away in midair.
Yet, just as it seemed this might somehow fail, the surrounding space warped.
A force so overwhelming caused the air to contract for a brief moment, distorting sight itself.
And then—silence swept over all.
*Fwoooosh!*
From the abdomen to the back of a death knight who was just moving to attack, a giant pillar of light and flame erupted through the opening.
That fearsome power stretched endlessly skyward.
*
Balmung slowly recalled the previous sight: a ferocious slash that split even the clouds in the sky.
Just how many in the world could unleash such an attack?
Hrung-ga, seemingly unconcerned with Balmung's thoughts, wore a faint, amused smile.
[To think such a monster exists—I'd never heard of one.]
[... Surely there must be a trick hidden within such power.]
Yet, Hrung-ga's answer was utterly contrary to Balmung's expectation.
[Not at all. Sometimes the Imperials outdo even us.]
[So, is that what you were hoping for, that you betrayed your kin? How foolish.]
[Really? Maybe you should reflect on your own stubbornness before calling me foolish.]
At Hrung-ga's cynical mockery, Balmung's face twisted in anger.
[Whatever they promised you, it's all a lie. Lying is the special right of the Imperials.]
[Lies are the failing of humans. It's not unique to them.]
[If more thought like you, Hrung-ga, this ceaseless slaughter might have ended long ago. But reality is different.]
[And yet...]
Ungrim slowly lowered his club and continued:
[The land beyond this great forest is a place where humans have almost never set foot. Who planted such malicious delusions?]
[Calling it a delusion is insulting. Still, it's widely known that betrayal is their habit. Our leader, Ungrim, knows it better than anyone.]
Hrung-ga sneered, his perfectly aligned teeth showing between his fangs.
[Is Ungrim a god or something? So he knows everything now?]
[He knows everything, no matter what it is. That's the kind of man he is.]
[Hmm... A fanatic, then.]
As Hrung-ga shrugged, thick tendons bulged beneath his fur like spider webs.
Though he spoke of fanaticism, if Erich had heard this exchange, he would have said they were one and the same.
Hrung-ga intended to settle things with Balmung here and now. Swinging his massive club, he strode toward Balmung.