Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 97: Battle in the Muck (1)

⸢Iron Hold: An ultra defensive Skill that creates a solid force around the user, turning any armor or shield into an unmovable roadblock⸥

⸢B-Grade Knight Skill⸥

The impact was cataclysmic.

A shockwave of force and sound ripped outwards, flattening fungi and sending concentric ripples across the black lake.

The ground beneath Mercius’s feet cratered, the root-flesh tearing and compacting into a hardpan. Chips of mystical fungus and stone shot through the air like shrapnel.

From the tremor that reverberated, Mercius slid back a foot, his boots carving trenches. A crack appeared in the spectral face of his Paragon Shield, but it healed itself in the following moment.

Mercius held strong. Stopping a powerful charge like that, even with ⸢Iron Hold⸥, would have broken the arms of a lesser man.

But this was Mercius of Brackenbridge. Butcher of Demonspawns.

And after this battle, Butcher of Dragons.

He refused to give the dragon a chance to recoil. Using his Shield, he rolled over to the side, facing the long neck of the swamp beast.

Mercius raised his sword-wielding arm to strike. But the Swamp God Dragon was fast to react.

It coiled up, escaping the vertical slash, and shot towards him again, aiming to spear right through his armored chest.

"Argghh!" Mercius struck his shield down again, just in time for the Dragon’s head to slam into ⸢Iron Hold⸥.

The earth spread again, the expanse thundered from the collision. Mercius held firm once more, but the Swamp God Dragon, even with it going head first into such a powerful solid force, it barely took any damage.

Mercius let out a ferocious roar as he took on offense. Without wind-up or flourish, he turned the defensive position straight into an attacking one.

First, he pushed forward against the immense weight, using his high Strength Stat to force the giant head backwards.

When he created enough space, Mercius swung the Paragon Blade from his low guard in a cleave aimed to devastate.

⸢Glorious Crescent⸥!

The blade, fueled by the magnanimous essence of Knight Mana and the sheer legendary Strength of its wielder, transformed into a blur of ghostly silver and blue.

⸢Description: An arc empowered with blessed mana. 5% Damage increase if executed perfectly. 2% Chance of Bleed Damage⸥

It struck the dragon’s snout, right below its nostril.

SHAAANNNG—CRACK!

Rather than a slicing sound, what came was more of a shattering. A plate-sized, iridescent black scale exploded into fragments.

Glowing, thick ichor, the color of primordial oil, sprayed into the mist. The dragon’s head snapped sideways with the force of the blow.

The scales were far too strong, almost like Dranarg Metal, for the Paragon Blade to slice through at first try.

But this didn’t mean it didn’t hurt the giant lizard creature.

⸢-50 Damage⸥.

The Boss let out an infuriated roar. Mercius felt the pure, outraged pain and surprise blare on his face as the roar shook the Oubliette.

The water of the lake heaved.

The Swamp God Dragon recoiled, its head whipping back. The eight eyes blazed with new, furious light. "YOU DARE MAR MY SCALE!"

Mercius ignored its mad rage and leaped to stroke his sword again.

But his blue soulless eyes shot wide when he saw the Swamp Dragon open its maw.

Then it exhaled.

From the ends of its throat erupted a blackness that certainly wasn’t fire.

⸢Tidal Torrent⸥.

It was concentrated, pressurized swamp water.

However, it also was no ordinary water. It was the essence of the Festering Oubliette—thick with decay, acidic, alive with hungry microorganisms and crushing density.

The jet hit Mercius like a liquid fist.

He crossed his arms, shield and blade together, and was struck back, his feet dancing in the poisoned air.

The corrosive water sizzled against his armor, eating at its spectral sheen. The ⸢Scalding⸥ and ⸢Rot⸥ effects tried to seep into his form, but his immense Constitution and undead nature resisted the worst of it. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

He fell to the muddy earth. But only on his feet, his spectral greaves sinking into the green moss.

The dragon followed the torrent, its body surging forward, one colossal, clawed forelimb rising high, wreathed in a nimbus of toxic green energy, and swiped down. ⸢Verdant Ravage⸥.

Mercius dropped his guard and met the claw with his blade in a vicious upward parry.

Green and blue light followed the clash, exploding here and there. But the force was enough to drive Mercius to one knee.

Beneath the moss, the ground splintered. But his blade held, locked against claws that could shred mountains.

For a moment, they were frozen, a tableau of impossible strength: the god-beast pressing down, the ghost-knight holding it at bay, muscles of spectral light and ancient sinew straining.

The dragon’s voice hissed, close now, vibrating through the locked weapons. "YOU ARE STRONG, GHOST. STRONG ENOUGH TO BE INTERESTING. BUT YOU ARE A FRAGMENT. A MEMORY. I AM THE ETERNAL PRESENT OF THIS WORLD."

Mercius, knee deep in muck, looked up into the descending face, his blue eyes burning. He had nothing else to say. Words couldn’t defeat a beast so monstrous.

Rather, he pushed his weight to the side, pulling his sword alongside. With that maneuver, Mercius was able to wrench his blade free and, still on one knee, executed a perfect, widening spin.

He caught the beast’s ankle.

As the Dragon growled, he rolled over and then, he unleashed another skill. ⸢Heavenfall⸥.

A pillar of brilliant, silvery light erupted from the cavern ceiling—no, it formed from the ceiling, a manifestation of divine retribution made solid.

The massive slab of golden light struck the Swamp God Dragon.

It shrieked in terror, a sound of genuine shock and pain, as the concentrated force of the blow hammered its limb down.

Mercius immediately pushed on the advantage. The Paragon Blade glowed a golden light as he activated ⸢Blessed Edge⸥—a Skill shared by Swordsmen and Knights—and aimed a decapitating slash at the Dragon’s exposed throat.

The Swamp God Dragon, for the first time, showed something akin to alarm.

It acted on reflex. Its massive body, defying physics, contorted backwards, the neck bending like a reed to avoid the blow.

The blade whistled past, missing by inches and carving a canyon in the ground that wept black water.

The Dragon retreated to the center of its lake, its wounded snout and limb dripping ichor.

Mercius skidded to the side, finding his halt near a mangrove tree. He had barely used any of his properties. His Mana, Health and Attributes were still full.

For as long as this monster wanted, he would fight until he killed it. As his Master had commanded.

He looked into the ugly lake and the Dragon glared at him from its depths.

The two titans regarded each other across the ravaged bank. The air crackled with mana residue and burgeoning rage.

"YOU FIGHT WITH THE BORROWED ANGER OF A DEAD MAN," the Dragon hissed, its voice now cold, all mocking curiosity gone. "It is a finite fuel."

Mercius raised his shield and sword once more, settling into a fresh guard.

"I am a dead man," he said. "Come join me."

The Dragon roared madly.

Mercius charged. His feet caused the water and the muck to splash away as he sprinted, his blade held high for a strike that promised to split the world.

The Dragon reared back, the waters around it churning as it gathered the full, terrible power of the Oubliette into its maw for a heavy, annihilating breath.

The collision was imminent.