Chapter 55 Battle Of The Dark Forest [part 3]

Chapter 55 Battle Of The Dark Forest [part 3]

The battle raged on with unrelenting ferocity, the clash of steel and bestial roars echoing through the forest like rolling thunder.

<You have killed...>

[You have slain a...

<You have killed...>

[You have slain a...

<You have killed...>

[You have slain a...

The two overlapping voices rang distantly in his ears as he brutally flowed in crowds of critters wielding boorish axes and hammers that shot at him with a frightening thirst for blood.

His onyx blade showed no mercy... carving through their flesh with lethal precision, unconcerned about the state of his own body.

Yet the monsters never stopped coming, for every one of them that was slain, there were even many more to slay.

The general, a towering mass of rippling muscle and curling horns, was a force of nature unto itself.

Its battle-axe clove through the air with earth-shaking power, matched only by the preternatural speed and durability of Northern's death guardian.

The two titans grappled in a cyclone of whirling steel, their combative dance one of incredible violence. Blow after thunderous blow rained down, shockwaves rippled outward with every impact. Neither gave so much as an inch of ground.

Northern ...'s clone fought with every ounce of his being, slashing and whirling through the lesser monstrosities that dared impede his path, cutting a devastating swath through the ranks of their enemies.

Time flowed like a blur, the dark forest was drowned in primal cries and clangors of steel. Only drenching the forest deeper with the blurring flow of time.

Bodies were rent asunder, dismembered limbs and gobbets of flesh scattering in all directions.

Someway afar, Northern's death angel was still locked in a terrifying clash with the general.

The real Northern leaned on his onyx blade, trying to catch his breath and move up his legs.

He gritted his teeth, frowning with frustration and looking down.

The general bellowed its fury, spittle flying as its bestial jaws stretched wide. Its muscles rippled and bunched beneath its matted, horned hide with each earth-shaking swing of its axe.

And despite its monstrous might, the death angel parried and countered with a cold, dispassionate fatality.

Their battle raged without cessation, the two figures hewing through the surrounding melee with impunity.

Lesser monstrosities were slashed apart or trampled underfoot, their bodies adding to the growing carpet of mangled forms.

The world seemed to fragment and blur with each resounding impact, the death angel's weapon meeting the cruel edge of the general's axe over and over in showers of sparks.

On the periphery, Northern's clone battled with equal desperation, slowly succumbing to the endless swarm.

Abruptly, an opening presented itself in the general's defenses. Its axe was committed too far into a devastating overhand chop, leaving its flanks horribly exposed.

With liquid grace, the death guardian flowed around the sledgehammer blow and thrust its axe deep into the creature's abdomen.

A deafening bellow tore from the general's throat as it staggered back, crimson ichor geysering from the catastrophic wound.

Its tail lashed in inarticulate fury as the axe slipped from its grip, strength visibly ebbing. The death angel did not relent, pressing its brutal advantage as it closed the gap once more.

Metal sheared through flesh and bone with sickening ease, severing the thick column of the general's neck in a fountain of gore.

The beast's head tumbled free, bouncing twice before coming to rest amidst the charnel ruin of the battlefield.

The death guardian stood implacable. Its burning gaze swept the surrounding massacre as the weight of the general's death slowly registered throughout the horde.

A wave of terror and confusion rippled through their ranks as they took in the gruesome sight of their fallen leader. Bestial roars turned to shrill cries of dismay and quickly, the horde broke.

Monstrosities fled in droves, shoving and trampling their own in a mad scramble to escape the death angel's reach. Within moments, the forest had fallen eerily silent once more, broken only by the susurrus of the wind through the shadowed boughs.

Only then did the death guardian turn its baleful regard towards Northern still battling the remaining stragglers.

As if in slow motion, its obsidian form began crumpling inward, buckling under the sheer trauma of its wounds.

Its sword slipped from its grasp to clatter against the loamy soil as the death angel folded in on itself with a groan of protesting metal.

Slowly... it crumpled to its knee.