Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead-Chapter 1219: One Strike

Ourlon stood across from an old man, both had their dominant hand placed upon the handle of their sheathed blades. They were standing at the very top of the realm's greatest, strongest city.

The horizon extended far into the distance. Tall mountains, deep cliffs, and extreme biomes could be viewed as far as the eye could see. This realm was far from hospitable to creatures like humans. In fact, even Ourlon and his men had struggled dearly to get around and fully adapt to the conditions.

Yet, in front of him today, was The Kensei–Chikara, a man who had claimed this land through bloodshed many years ago. He was the uncontested leader of this realm, even if its great landscapes were home to majestic, powerful creatures, it made no doubt who stood as the most prominent figure amidst it all.

The other civilisations and groups Ourlon had encountered could not afford to show themselves lightly. The Hitobito, under Chikara's leadership, instead built upon this land out in the open, as though challenging the great beasts and monsters to do something about it.

This man had lived many years for certain, but nowadays, his once proud, immovable stature had become emaciated, his hair had greyed and thinned out, his skin had paled as the toll of time had passed, rendering a once unstoppable warrior more feeble and susceptible to sickness than ever–Or so it had seemed at a glance.

Ourlon had always thought that The Kensei's lack of physical presence was strange. The skeleton had come up with several ideas as to why that was. Whether he had already passed away, but his death had been kept a secret so as not to destabilise the population and convince people to attempt a coup… Or whether he had grown weak, and could thus no longer stand as the proud warrior who had conquered this land long ago…

When the undead had come face to face with the man himself–Just a few minutes ago–It had seemed like the latter belief was correct. The man was old, decrepit, and clearly plagued by several illnesses and natural ailments.

Ourlon had felt it clearly. This man was close to death.

The first clash had instantly proven him wrong, however. Ourlon was dazzled–It was obscene how perfect and powerful the old man's first strike turned out to be. Regardless of what he believed, the minor lord had not dropped his guard in the slightest, but his defences were shaken and nearly broken through in a single blow.

Chikara wielded the classic style of Tochian sword, the Katana. Albeit his noticeably longer, wider, and heavier than any variation of the weapon Ourlon knew. It was custom-made, and the craftsmanship was flawless at that.

The skeleton could not detect any weakness in the sword. Whatever it was made of, or however it had been made, was incredible. This sword was something Ourlon could not easily shatter or even just damage–Anyway, its craftsmanship was so refined that he didn't even want to inflict wear and tear upon it.

The exchange that had followed the first strike had been swift, not even lasting two minutes, but each motion had been precise and swift. By the end of it, Ourlon's attire had been slashed five times, and the bones beneath them as well.

They had been cut through so cleanly that no cracks spread from the damaged areas.

Chikara had not come out unscathed either, though. A cut on his forehead bled heavily, and on his body, four more slashes had reached him. Superficial flesh wounds were what the living would have called these, were he still in youth, but at his advanced age, even such light bleeding made him unsteady.

Regardless, he kept calm, his breathing and heartbeat perfectly under his control. Something worth mentioning was that Ourlon's signature battle art, 'Pseudo-Death Blade' had seemingly been wholly ineffective against the old man. He did not experience the momentary death as any other livings would have when cut by Ourlon's pale, chipped blade.

Although The Kensei's life force was indeed robust despite his health, it wasn't actually what was allowing him to rest the battle art here–Instead, it was purely due to his own mastery of the way of power, seemingly granting him a passive resistance to all arts without exception.

Speaking of arts… Ourlon could feel that the old man was using many of them, but their effects were rather subtle. It seemed like Chikara was using battle arts to support his failing health and to supplement his strength rather than do anything flashy.

It was rather impressive, to say the least.

Nonetheless, the two swordsmen now stood at a standstill, blades sheathed and ready to lash, typical Tochian style. There was great tension in the air. The short exchange of blows just before had seemingly been enough for both of them to evaluate their adversary.

The next swing of their swords was going to be fully powered. The next strike was going to put an end to this fight. The world around them seemed to slow down to a crawl. The blazing city below them, where Ourlon's men were locked in a bloody conflict with Chikara's warriors, seemed to grow eerily quiet, as though all combatants had frozen in place.

The old leader gathered his strength, battle arts activating following his will like clockwork, flowing to each portion of his body, into his swords, and even to his surroundings, setting him up to produce a single, powerful attack–The most powerful blow he could dish out at his current age.

All around him, gravity seemed to become more and more tyrannical, as though the law of nature was answering to him and reacting to him.

Ourlon did the exact same thing, applying each and every battle art he knew, intent for the attack he would produce once unsheathing to be the most powerful he could possibly make it–However, it wasn't just a contest of who was the strongest with battle arts, who could use the most of them in a single strike, or who had the best base strength and skill to begin with.

It was a test of resources in general as well.

In this instance, the undead had access to Ierpalam…

"Peritia"

He spoke in a soft tone just as both he and his opponent moved, blades whistling out of their sheaths as they exploded with power, blasting apart the top of the tower they found themselves upon. They moved so quickly that they were imperceptible to everyone else who could currently see them, but from their perspective, everything was incredibly slow.

The great Katana and pale, chipped blade travelled through the air, slicing right through the air without resistance.

The trajectory of the swords should have guaranteed that they were going to clash, but they did not. It was like the two combatants were capable of bending space by the sheer strength of their attack–Of course, it wasn't quite the case, although it may be possible for them to achieve such an effect. Here, it was purely due to the fact that two unstoppable forces were heading straight for one another.

This led to the space in between them to contort and twist unnaturally, as though the space separating them was afraid to be slashed as well. Thus, everything seemed to become crooked. The two combatants went right past one another, their arms and blades outstretched as they now stood on opposite sides of the platform, back turned to one another.

In unison, they sheathed their weapons once more.

"How… Unexpected"

Chikara's chest suddenly burst with blood as a diagonal cut manifested across his body, starting from his right shoulder, going all the way through his left side. The sudden loss of blood brought him to his knees.

He simply sat there, engaging a battle art to stop the bleeding but not moving at all.

Ourlon walked up to The Kensei's side.

The living sighed.

"Finish the job. My time has come"

"Indeed. Your curse ends here"

Ourlon retrieved the dark blade on his back, raising it high before striking once, cutting right through Chikara's carotid, casting one last effusion of blood before the living silently passed away, remaining seated for several more seconds before falling to the ground.

Ourlon had done it. He had achieved victory.

He put back the blade in its sheath–Nonetheless, it was only the beginning. Taking down the realm's current ruler was but an early step of conquest for the Undead Empire. It had taken him a while to get there due to the impressive strength of the Hitobito.

Ourlon could defeat The Kensei, but his men struggled greatly against the warriors of his now fallen adversary.

In any case, the minor lord now needed to conquer the rest of the realm. This included small pockets of civilisation, which, while lesser than the land of Seinaru, were certainly numerous and hidden away–Finding them, dealing with the great beasts and the like, while having to get through the extreme terrain…

Ourlon was definitely going to be the last minor lord to return from his assigned realm.

'...I wonder how Yuolrt is doing…'