Bro, I'm not an Undead!

Chapter 1219: ...Is Me



<Ah. How fascinating indeed. Your prediction held true.> Boron said as his great figure slowly began to descend.

Suzamete flew out of his palm and floated still in the sky, gazing at him intently.

<I never would have expected that two mortals could entice me so much with their battle. This perhaps was the greatest battle to take place on this world, as you said. Though its ending... I wouldn't say it was as spectacular as you claimed.>

Suzamete gave a weak, suspicious smile, but Boron missed it.

<Forgive me, then...> she said.

<There's nothing to forgive, my love. Nothing at all.>

Boron stormed downward, piercing through the veil of clouds in the sky, leaving Suzamete behind. The Deitess wore a dark visage.

<Forgive me...> she whispered.

*

Jiggorrhax was heaving great, laboured breaths.

He himself couldn't believe he was alive after THAT.

His vast body was standing on its hind legs, and his other pair of limbs were stretched out wide, quite like his great wings.

Very little remained of the great Herald.

He almost looked like a carbon copy of the Daemon's Stygian Mimic.

His scales had been eradicated - every single one of them - and his flesh was mostly gone, blasted off, or charred to the point of shrivelling and attaching to his great bones. Most of Jiggorrhax's torso was spine and ribcage, and it couldn't support his erect stance anymore. Thus, he collapsed.

The dragon heaved and hissed.

Despite his sorry state, he was proud.

Because of him, Aigas was safe.

Even though half of Pelian was obliterated, this was a small price to pay.

The illusory figure of Sause, floating in the sky like a cloud, wore a dark grimace.

He had begged Jiggorrhax to return to his time earlier, fearing that he would perish in a battle he had been dragged into. While the dragon was merely a relic of the past temporarily thriving in the present, Sause hadn't wished to see two of his Elders die mere days apart.

Now, however... he was compelled to believe that this was ordained.

When a catastrophic explosion had ripped open the darkness which had spread over Pelian several moments ago, rolling out with staggering, galloping might, Jiggorrhax had unleashed an unending series of Rule Runes in an attempt to contain it. He created nine worlds around the vile detonation, and they were all blasted to high hell in less than instant, but they significantly tore down its power to a degree that Jiggorrhax could contain... somewhat.

But this came at a cost.

The Herald's body wasn't able to handle the power, however shrunken down it was, hence his current state.

Furthermore, one of the human nations had paid part of the price.

At the moment, a great crater approximately six hundred kilometers in diameter had replaced anything the civilization under the reign of King Royan had established in that range.

Jiggorrhax was also in this crater which spewed lava and toxic fumes in dangerous volumes, warping the state of the sky.

The dragon's purple pupil turned hazy, but he refused to lose consciousness before seeing what became of the two who triggered the madness he had been left to contain.

His vision travelled past the heat and choking fumes; it scoured a great distance around him until...

'AH...'

Two figures appeared in his sight.

One was standing with his head held high, and the other was kneeling with his head hung low. Only a few dozen paces worth of distance split the two.

The smaller one between them, was the one standing proud, heaving and coughing terribly. His body was a mess. His flesh was molten, cracking like a mud pot, and black. His face was hardly recognisable. Its features were distorted like stirred wax; they were lumpy, swollen and charred, except for the eyes.

He was missing most of his limbs - much of his legs and left arm - but he substituted them with darkness to be able to stand stably. He was making a generous effort to heal, but it wasn't working all that well, but he could hardly be annoyed.

As he had declared, he was the one left standing.

Skullius, was the one left standing!

He gazed at his counterpart with what might have been a grin; broken pieces of dry flesh chipped and fell as he moved his lips.

The Soul-Burdened Warmoth looked horrible. He looked worse than Jiggorrhax!

The only thing that looked decent about him was the pair of brass bracers around his topmost arms; but they hardly looked like arms - they were simply cracked bones layered with blackened flesh and furs.

The Ju`wtta had sustained heavy damage, but because they had grown even tougher with Replicus' Implicit Evolution, they had survived the formidable ray's might. They were swiftly approaching the durability of the Warmoth's Spine, which was tight in Replicus' grasp. Everything of Replicus' was smoking profusely. None of his flesh remained and his head held the worst of the damage he had received.

There was barely one.

Only a jaw remained, and even that was half gone.

Skullius greedily took in the look of the Warmoth.

"Ha... hahaha... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" he began laughing like a madman, bits of his burnt hair falling off as he rocked his head back and forth. He seemed truly insane.

"As I predicted! It's me, it's fucking ME AND MY IDEALS that stand proud in the end!"

He laughed some more, his face facing the sky, and staggered. Then he sighed and looked

back at Skullius with Crude Vision. His smile dimmed.

As much as he wanted to celebrate a complete victory though, Skullius couldn't.

After all, there was the thrum of a soul deep within him.

During that final attack, he hadn't quite managed to see and dodge the dark arrow that had been hurtling towards him. The arrow had struck him point blank and bashed him with a volley of Inverted Mana which was now preventing him from healing properly.

While Skullius had been wrestling with the agony, his soul had been swiftly pushed through him and reconnected with his body perfectly.

"Tsk!"

Skullius scowled, rushed forth, and kicked the Warmoth's charred body. It remained fixed in

its kneeling position.

"That was all you managed. Nothing more. I'll purge this weakness sooner rather than later anyways," he said and then he tore his eyes away from Replicus.

The Stolen Angel was a few meters behind him... frozen in Cold Time.

Right when Skullius was stricken by the dark arrow, the Angel had been smitten by one

charged with Replicus' skill [Cold Time], freezing it in place.

"This must mean you're still alive somehow, right? Get lost already," Skullius said, turned

back to Replicus, and extended his remaining right hand which was immediately drowned in a

cold cutting energy to erase Replicus' remains.

...But Skullius' hand never reached Replicus.

It suddenly turned stiff.

'What?'

Before the Hybrid Luman could even process what was happening, his hand turned against

him, and gripped his throat so tight that it shrunk and squelched!

Skullius' eyes bulged and immeasurable fury burned from him.

"SILAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" he cried, barely managing to squeeze out the words.

But then...

The pitiful, miserable, defeated body of the Soul-Burdened Warmoth suddenly rose, faceless

as it was, and lunged, grabbing Skullius' head!

...!!!

What...

How...

When...

Cold fear sprang through Skullius. The lone eye on his face that wasn't blocked by Replicus'

large hand trembled.

"NO00000-" the Luman shrieked in panic, but his voice failed midway through, and he

slowly stopped struggling.

Replicus slowly removed his hand - which quickly fragmented, having been sliced a bunch just now - from Skullius' head, and on the Hybrid Luman's forehead, a glowing brand appeared. It looked like a tiny tree made from Ju`wtte, with branches that had stars on each

end.

Both the Luman and the Warmoth slumped to the ground, kneeling with barely an inch between them.

Replicus' lost head started to form rapidly, as did his flesh. Oddly, it didn't seem as though he was healing. As his limbs were restored, they were covered in a kind of goo, as though they had been incubating in some egg. The same was true for all his other bits that sprang out like

inflating balloons.

The fur from his body was gone and his stature now resembled that of the Warmoth's Progeny once again, fully recovered. Yet Replicus felt an ungodly level of exhaustion. He could barely stand. This was a side-effect of the Implicit Evolution, no doubt.

Replicus gently grabbed the back of Skullius' head and sighed as he looked at his slack face

with the Ju`wtte tree crackling on it. His vision was back now, and his voice was restored. "Thanks, Sila. I really owe you one," Replicus said with a small smile.

He had won.