NOVGO.NET Chapter 471: Death Throes
Chapter 471: Death Throes
Some time ago, deep into the frigid regions of Solania.
“To the left!” the Knight King’s voice cut like a war drum across the frozen expanse, and Ludwig obeyed without thought. His whole body twisted, muscles snapping tight as he dragged Durandal across his chest, meeting the Wrathful Death’s descending mace. Steel on steel screamed, a shriek that rattled his hollow bones and sent sparks bursting into the snow like dying stars. The sheer force of it gouged a crater beneath his boots, ice splintering in rings outward.
His breathless snarl broke out. He had no lungs to fill, yet he felt the phantom pressure of strain pressing in his ribs.
“Incoming fist!” the Knight King warned again.
The titan’s other hand was already hurtling toward him, each black iron finger the size of a ballista, the air screaming around it. Ludwig reacted on reflex. He kicked off his heels, body folding forward in a brutal arch. [Summersault Slam]. His sword howled as it spun overhead, cleaving down into the Wrathful Death’s helm in passing.
A number floated before his eyes:
[-1,551]
“Tsk, too shallow,” Ludwig hissed between gritted teeth. The blow had kissed the monster rather than carved it. The helm barely showed a scratch, a mocking glimmer of red light pulsing behind the visor.
“Do not be hasty!” the Knight King barked, urgency swelling in his tone.
“I got this!” Ludwig snapped back, though he knew the arrogance for what it was, false armor to cover the threadbare edge of his control. He landed hard in the snow, knees sinking deep, then sprang away as another colossal palm split the earth where he had stood.
He rolled, fumbling for his inventory, and in a crack of shadow pulled free a blackened staff. The wood hummed with necrotic power, and when he slammed its base into the frozen ground, the sound thudded like a heartbeat. “Dark Explosion!”
A blast thundered outward. Not at the giant’s torso, Ludwig had learned the futility of that. Instead the detonation tore the ground at its feet, exploding beneath a knee already bent and half-broken from weeks of hammering.
The Wrathful Death buckled with a sound like mountains grinding. Its whole mass sagged, that impossible armor hissing as it strained.
Ludwig did not relent. He rammed the staff’s butt into the snow again. The white crust rippled beneath him as if it were water turned instantly to stone. “Death. Decay. Decline. Despair! Dark Tide!” His roar echoed until it seemed the mountain itself repeated him.
A surge of purple-black energy burst across the plain. It rushed like a tide up the giant’s legs, crawling with tendrils that hissed and gnawed at the iron plating. For one, exquisite moment, Wrath’s crimson aura flickered. Hatred itself seemed to stutter, as if threatened by the abyss of despair Ludwig had conjured.
Then the red ignited brighter, burning hotter, roaring back against the tide. The two forces clashed, colliding in a storm of sparks and screams. The snow between them boiled and froze again in rapid bursts, the ground cracking under the strain of rival eternities.
“Almost spent,” Ludwig gasped. His arms shook, the staff heavy as lead in his hands. “Bounds of Latvia!”
Purple chains erupted, spectral and snarling, lashing from the void to seize the Wrathful Death’s arms and torso. They rattled taut, locking its titanic limbs in place for the span of a heartbeat.
“This will not last!” the Knight King warned sharply.
“I know!” Ludwig’s voice was raw, his empty chest burning as though his phantom lungs had caught fire. His gaze snapped to the shadows. “Salem! You’re up!”
From beneath the giant’s unsteady legs, a maw of blackness yawned wide. A colossal jaw of shadow burst forth, teeth of void closing with a sickening crunch. It clamped onto Wrath’s feet, dragging, anchoring, compounding the bindings already screaming under strain. The feline has been plenty helpful in the fights, the only unfortunate part was that he rarely got to ’play’ as there was no shadows for it to move through most of the time. Especially with how ’White’ everything is in the peaks.
The titan roared, body thrashing, hatred spilling like lava. But it could not move. Not yet. Salem’s teeth were locked on it like a cat’s fangs around a mouse. Only the mouse in here was akin to a demigod.
Ludwig leapt, his chain dragging him skyward like a sling. His silhouette cut against the scarlet glow. “You hoped!” His voice cracked like thunder. “For more than a dozen years!” He dodged as the mace whistled past, then leveled his staff not at the beast, but at the weapon itself.
“[Graviol]!” Orbs of violet gravity clung to the mace’s head, dragging, distorting, making each swing a shade slower. He needed no miracle, only fractions of seconds, enough to tip the balance.
Durandal gleamed as he raised it in both hands. He drove it down, the blade shrieking as it carved through armor, plunging into the Wrathful Death’s chest.
[-777,112]
The number blazed. The titan staggered, its health bar slashed to a mere thread, a single pixel of vitality flickering stubbornly.
“I’ll be taking that hope away!” Ludwig hissed.
But the mace was already swinging back, an iron mountain cleaving the air. Retreat was impossible. His body could never clear the arc in time.
“Dark Explosion!” he roared, hurling his last thread of mana into the space between sword and beast. The blast erupted, digging Durandal deeper into the wound and hurling Ludwig backward, tumbling him across snow and ice.
Another number flared:
[-111,771]
The Wrathful Death convulsed. Cracks spread like spiderwebs across its armor, glowing fissures leaking blinding red. Its roar shook the heavens themselves, snow sheeting from the peaks as if the mountains wept.
Ludwig staggered upright, vision swimming. His body felt carved from stone, limbs heavy, each step a labor. But he forced his gaze upward, forced his defiance into words. “How does it feel now… that fleeting hope of yours?” He raised his trembling hand, fingers twitching toward the sky.
“It’s not dead yet! It needs one more blow!” Thomas said.
“I know…”Ludwig smiled, [Death’s Echo].