Chapter 988: The Crow

Upon nightfall, Liliazin looked to be mostly unharmed, although his clothes were riddled with cuts and tears, he himself did not bear any wounds as he had been able to heal them all before they could stack up and affect his movement speed, on the other end, Ourlon looked exactly the same as he had been when he stepped forward to fight, some stray rays of emerald light had indeed hit him, but they hadn’t even left any visible marks behind.

The minor walked away from this confrontation without having ever actually fought at all as he had just been chasing the Emerald Herald around, it was unfortunate, but it was only logical, catching someone whose power were primarily centered around light when they were intent on running away and nothing else was something most people would struggle with, in fact, had Liliazin truly been attempting to fully run, Ourlon probably wouldn’t even have been able to follow him as the herald could have just darted off without stopping or teleported to the other side of the realm.

He could have probably done that, it wasn’t like Ourlon was going to complain that his opponent was using his abilities to the fullest extent to avoid clashing with a sword that could cause people to die on contact, but Liliazin had still stuck around, probably because he reasoned that if the minor lord had no direct opponent, that he would just head for the warriors.

In any case, the skeleton was unable to send a message by slaying one of the powerhouse from the side of the livings, but the overall message was still conveyed as the herald was well aware that he could have easily died when the sword sliced his ear off, in fact, if he was not an Emerald Herald, he probably would be dead right now.

It was a good thing that he was the one to end up facing Ourlon, if anyone had tried to fight him head-on, they would have been instantly slaughtered without the shadow of a doubt, knowing this, he relayed the information to the others, making tensions rise steadily until the next battle arrived…

Prikrip was finally given the podium, although the title of strongest minor lord belonged to Ourlon, that title was not one the skeletal warrior actually claimed himself, it was something the others had agreed upon as they believed that in terms of slaying powerful livings, that he was the best amongst them.

Though that title had been given a long time ago, since then, each and every one of them had become far more powerful and sharpened their skills, even receiving guidance and training from Loimos himself, so who knew if it was still accurate or not.

No one really cared about that, Prikrip was here to kill his opponent, or at least seriously maim them, moving using his four limbs, his greatsword tightly held in hand as he appeared like a malformed abomination crawling forth toward the livings, and indeed, the corvid-like undead’s body was nothing short of horrendous looking, appearing like the shrivelled up remains of a mutated giant bird who had been born with front paws in the place of wings, there were no feathers left upon his corpse… The best thing that remained to identify him as some sort of bird was his crow-like beak.

Which peeked out from his wide hood, the ample blue cloak draped over his whole body did nothing to hide the appalling form of the minor lord, if anything, it made things worse as his limbs brushed and pushed it upward, giving the impression that was laid beneath was a tangled mess of limbs and bones.

Usually, he would be wearing an armour of pale steel, which also provided his talons with weapons that he could use to fight with even greater aggressivity, but being that it was the item General Loimos had bestowed upon him, much like Herlbe’s cleaver, he restrained from using it, just like he would restrain from using his Ierpalam unless absolutely necessary.

As his personal knights and soldiers moved past him, utterly ignoring the Divine Dancing Priestess and instead moving directly for the warriors, with orders from their leader to not leave a single one of them alive, Prikrip was intent on delivering a crushing defeat to the emerald folks today.

But he did not dare underestimate his opponent, Artazun, the leonine priestess looked quite fierce.

Before hostilities began, Prikrip rose up by standing on his hindlegs, pointing his greatsword, which broadness nearly matched the width of the bestial woman he was directing it at.

“You could be a precursor if you surrender and offer your neck right now” he said, receiving an immediate growl as an answer.

“If you want my head, you’ll have to earn it” she replied, making the minor lord clack his beak repeatedly in some foul imitation of laughter.

“Very well, I certainly hope that your true full power actually has something to do with dancing, I have been wondering why you were called Divine Dancing Priestesses this whole time, retracting his blade and instead poising himself up into a combat stance.

“We shall see if you are worthy of seeing anyone’s full power…”

In the next instant, both of them attacked, Prikrip swinging his blade with overwhelming strength, sword already bursting with the dust formed by his innate ability, clashing against the resilient hide of the bestial spell Artazun manifested, a Polpitir, or as the minor lord would describe it, a large, white elephant with four tusks that were straight instead of curved.

In terms of pure resilience, a Polpitir were even harder to damage that an Ahltaizth, but under the strength of Prikrip, the bestial spell was stopped in its track, the dust taking it apart within moments, allowing the corvid the tear it apart stepping forward to swing at the priestess, who leapt into the air, evading from the sword swing and the subsequent cloud of dust that followed it.

From her maw, she launched concentrated bestial energy, the sphere seemed alive, feral and eager to find a prey to tear apart, the minor lord did not even engage with the attack and instead moved directly to perform his signature fighting style.

Although he lacked wings, as a bird-like being, the air was his true battle ground.

Leaping upward, he launched slashes of dust forth, each of his attacks seeming to allow him to remain airborne, moving upward, from side to side as his attacks came raining down, cloak and hood slung chaotically around, rendering him to nothing more than a vague, ever-changing shape that seemed to lack a solid form.

From the get-go, the battle between the divine lioness and malformed crow was intense…