Chapter 1191: The One Left Standing (5)

Name:Bro, I'm not an Undead! Author:
Chapter 1191: The One Left Standing (5)



Karima's Dormant Territory.

"They've changed locations?!" Dellan exclaimed when he saw the image from the mirror, which he and the others were looking at the battle through, suddenly turn dark. It had just been depicting the full view of the great tower of darkness, but just when the four-armed creature had leaped out of the building...

"I've made it so that the mirror tracks the movements of both of them across Aigas," the Herald Erlton said with a deep frown. "Even if we can't see what is happening inside that building, their signatures will register wherever else they appear."

No one added, questioned or subtracted from his explanation.

Erlton, Soidon, Dellan and Karima had mostly been quiet while anticipating what would happen when the two fighters exited the building. It had, of course, been a little surprising to Erlton when his mirror failed to interpret what was happening within the tower, but he chalked it up to perhaps a series of Creeds that had been made by Skullius to prevent surveillance.Nnêw n0vel chapters are published at novelhall.com

Whatever it was that was happening inside must have been really intense though. But then...

"Oh! It's showing something again!" Soidon said as the mirror refreshed. He then tilted his head in confusion. "Why is it showing two perspectives?"

Just as he asked this, however, Karima snapped his head to the right, where he felt something funny going on around the borders of his Territory.

A girl with lime-green hair had poked her head in, and then proceeded to push her whole body into the dark interior of the Territory, which was littered with luminous shapes. She wore a nervous smile as everyone turned to her, surprised at her appearance. She waved, a furious blush growing around her cheeks.

Before she could figure out how to address everyone, though, her eyes were stolen by the images depicted on the large mirror.

Instantly, her eyes widened.

***

Skullius had designated every heavily populated place on Aigas as the venue for his battle with Replicus - that, along with the tower, of course, which was the 'default battle ground', as he had put it.

When the two found themselves out of the tower, they would be transported to random spots around Aigas where living beings were swarming. If they (Skullius and Replicus) found themselves outside these places, they would be warped back to the tower.

Even though he had known about this, Replicus hadn't been quite prepared to face the looks of horror that surrounded him when he appeared within a shoddy, half-collapsed building filled to the brim with frightened men, women and children.

It was quite large, and many tents, beds and blankets were packed on the dirty, dusty, bloody floor.

It was a thoroughly pitiful sight.

How everyone scurried away at the sight of the tall, four-armed creature with a long spear in its hand, was even more pitiful, however. Common women hugged their screaming children while reflecting in their eyes a look of silent despair. Common men mustered feeble courage, grabbing sticks or stones, and moving to stand protectively before their families. Many, many more simply scrambled away, trampling over whoever and whatever.

Replicus frowned. Something within him churned.

He wanted to say, "I don't want to hurt any of you," but knew it wouldn't do him any good.

couldn't find a trace of the Hybrid Luman.

Where was Skullius? Was he hiding?

If the Stolen Angel was here, then...

...!!!!!!!

Perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps it was simply an outlandish, inexplicable desire to survive.

An alarm rang in Replicus' mind, but by the time he allowed himself to be chilled by its warning, it was too late.

SHIIIIIIIIIIIIING!

Likewise, by the time he heard the prolonged whistle of a blade's triumphant swing, IT had

already happened.

A third or more of every building in the town had jerked upward violently, cleanly cleaved apart from the base by a boundless, merciless, lateral influence that couldn't have possibly been send forth by a mortal!

It was an ominously comical sight that happened in less than an instant.

The eyes of the thousands who had been sharing the same fear of an unknown threat

remained glazed with horror.

At the moment of the sharp strike, quite like the buildings, all the commonfolk and Knights

had had their torsos forcefully stripped from the rest of their bodies. It had been so quick that for most, their legs continued racing towards a refuge that didn't exist, a safety that was

never to be found.

For the younger and shorter ones, the tops of their heads had been divorced from the rest of their noggins, and for a brief moment afterward the damage, they suffered a semblance of

carefree insanity.

All the same, however, everyone died.

Everyone except the Warmoth's Progeny, who, like everyone else, found that he, as well as his

silver armour, had been cleaved in two as well.