[The skill known as "Emotion Eliminator" delves into the depths of the user's psyche, enabling them to tap into a state of zero emotions. When invoked, this skill effectively strips away any emotional hindrances that may impede the warrior's will to fight, resulting in a state of cold detachment.
By eliminating emotions such as pain, anger, fear, and even compassion, the user becomes liberated from the distractions that can cloud judgment and hinder decision-making in combat. This state of emotional detachment allows the mind to work with utmost clarity and efficiency, enabling the user to assess their surroundings swiftly and discern the optimal strategies and techniques to employ in any given situation.
With emotions cast aside, the user's focus sharpens, and they become immune to the distractions and vulnerabilities associated with emotional responses. Pain, whether inflicted by physical or psychological means, is no longer a hindrance, as the user's detachment from sensation allows them to disregard discomfort and press on undeterred.
While emotions are eliminated, it is essential to note that the skill does not render the user completely devoid of consciousness or empathy. Rather, it provides temporary respite from the influence of emotions, allowing the warrior to operate with a detached perspective solely geared towards achieving victory.]
As the skill enveloped him, Grok's eyes turned pure white, his emotions shrouded in a veil of detachment. Pain, fear, and grief were banished, replaced by a singular focus on rescuing his injured comrade.
[The skill known as "Nimble Shift" is a last resort ability to be employed solely in moments of ultimate crisis. It harnesses the untamed mana present in the surrounding environment and channels it directly into the user's legs, granting them unparalleled speed and agility. However, this power comes at an excruciating cost.
When Nimble Shift is activated, the wild mana surges into the user's legs without being filtered by the heart or any other regulating mechanism. As a result, an intense and unbearable pain courses through the user's lower limbs. The agony becomes so severe that the user may even entertain the thought of severing their own legs to end the torment.
Paradoxically, it is precisely this agonizing pain that fuels the true potential of the skill. As the user endures the excruciating sensation, their speed is exponentially increased. The more intense the pain inflicted by the untamed mana, the greater the surge in the user's velocity. It is as if the anguish itself propels the user forward, transcending the limits of human capability.
In this state, the user becomes a blur of motion, their movements defying the laws of physics. Their reflexes are heightened, allowing them to evade attacks, navigate obstacles with finesse, and strike with precision. The pain, although excruciating, is transformed into a source of power, enabling the user to outrun danger and react swiftly in dire situations.
The key characteristic of Nimble Shift lies in its delicate balance between agony and unparalleled speed. The user must find the threshold where pain is intense enough to unlock extraordinary swiftness without incapacitating them entirely. Mastering this skill requires tremendous mental fortitude, as the user must endure unimaginable suffering to unleash their full potential.
Nimble Shift stands as a testament to the lengths one would go to survive in dire circumstances. It is a skill that defies conventional wisdom, turning anguish into a catalyst for extraordinary speed and agility. However, its utilization comes at a grave cost, demanding unwavering resolve and an unwelcome acceptance of unbearable pain.]
In an instant, Grok vanished from his previous position, reappearing beside the chimera's hand that still clutched Arthur's injured body. With a swift motion, Grok severed the hand, freeing Arthur from his grotesque captivity.
The chimera's regeneration was swift, yet Grok was unyielding in his resolve. He cradled Arthur in his arms, his powerful strides propelling him forward with unmatched speed.
The chimera gave chase, its monstrous form closing in with relentless determination. But Grok had a plan—a plan born of a mind devoid of emotion, focused solely on the preservation of his fallen comrade.
One by one, Grok hurled his soldiers at the chimera, using them as sacrificial pawns to delay the relentless pursuer. The clash between soldiers and monstrosity echoed through the battlefield, each sacrifice serving as a momentary distraction.
The soldiers valiantly fought, their cries of pain serving as a backdrop to the resolute determination etched on Grok's face. He knew the cost of his actions, yet his mind remained unclouded, his purpose unwavering.I think you should take a look at
The chimera dispatched the soldiers with ease, its focus solely fixed on reaching its intended prey. But with each sacrifice, Grok gained precious moments to escape, to carry Arthur to safety.
As Grok's gaze met the relentless pursuit behind him, a glint of determination burned within his eyes. The battlefield was a testament to his unyielding will—a canvas painted with the blood and sacrifice of his comrades.
He would not falter. He would not fail.
For Arthur.
And with a final surge of strength, Grok pressed forward, his heart aflame with an unquenchable fire, as he fought against insurmountable odds to protect his fallen friend and carve a path to the backlines.
After a final, mighty push, Grok triumphantly reached the back lines of his army, gently laying down Arthur's battered yet still breathing body. Despite the relentless assault he had endured, Arthur clung to life, although his chest bore a gaping hole, surrounded by a swirling vortex of ominous black energy, and his blood loss was staggering.
Derein, his loyal companion, swiftly raced to Arthur's side, accompanied by her most skilled Healers. Determination etched on her face, she cradled Arthur's head in her lap, tears streaming down her cheeks as she beheld his wretched condition.
"I won't let you slip away, Arthur. We will save you," Derein whispered, her voice filled with both desperation and unwavering resolve.
"I need heals or i will-"
Before Grok could utter another word, his eyes abruptly reverted to their normal state, and he collapsed without warning, blood gushing uncontrollably from his legs.
"Curses! He invoked the forbidden arts. Summon additional Healers immediately! We must attend to Grok's injuries with utmost urgency!" Derein's voice trembled with a mix of anguish and determination, her tears flowing freely.
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Arthur, please don't abandon me. I implore you, don't forsake me in this dire hour, or my spirit will shatter. Sir, Grok has also succumbed."
"Madam Derein, that abomination is relentlessly slaughtering our soldiers," spoke one of the knight captains, gesturing toward the hulking chimera zombie.
As if in response to the mounting chaos, the rain intensified, transforming into an onslaught, while a tempest loomed on the distant horizon.
"God, Please Save us." Derein spoke in a very slow voice praying to the all mighty.
The battlefield was a maelstrom of chaos and carnage, the human forces locked in a desperate struggle against the relentless tide of the undead. The weather was as fierce as the enemy, with dark clouds blanketing the sky, and rain pouring down in torrents. Yet, amidst the downpour, the warriors fought on, their resolve unyielding as they clashed with the horrors of the night.
Arthur and Grok, two of the mightiest fighters on the human side, lay grievously wounded. Despite the best efforts of skilled Healers, their conditions showed little sign of improvement. Grok demonstrated some resilience, but Arthur's injuries grew more severe with each passing moment.
Healers strained to maintain their pace, their hands glowing with healing magic as they tried to keep Arthur alive. However, it seemed like a fleeting effort against the odds. The relentless assault of the undead, led by the fearsome chimera zombie, continued unabated, its claws and fangs dealing deathly blows to the human forces.
Grok's injuries were being tended to, but it was apparent that he would take time to recover. Arthur, on the other hand, was fading, his life slipping away with every passing second.
Among the Healers attending to Arthur, Aeliana, a renowned Healer known for her mastery over restorative arts, had a determined look in her eyes. She refused to give in, channeling her energy into casting powerful healing spells on Arthur.
"I won't let you die, My King. Not today," she muttered under her breath, her hands emitting a warm, soothing glow.
Rain pounded the battlefield, and the ground was a quagmire of mud, making it even harder for the already weary human soldiers to maintain their footing. The undead, however, seemed unaffected, their relentless onslaught pushing the human forces to the brink of despair.
Every human soldier bitten by the zombies transformed into one of them within a mere ten minutes. Their numbers swelled at an alarming rate, with fallen human soldiers rising as new additions to the undead ranks.
Desperation settled over the battlefield like a shroud, sapping the morale of the human forces. Despite their courage and valor, the seemingly endless wave of undead threatened to crush their spirit.
Derein, a skilled archer and the queen of the human realm, fought alongside her loyal subjects with unwavering determination. Her arrows found their mark, and her keen eyes scanned the battlefield for any signs of weakness in the enemy's ranks.
But for every undead she took down, two more seemed to replace it. The zombie horde appeared to be inexhaustible, overwhelming the human forces with sheer numbers and brute force.
Boom
The first son of the martial house, known for his prowess with spiked gauntlets, unleashed a flurry of deadly thrusts, obliterating a group of zombies. Yet, the strain on his body was evident, sweat mingling with the rain as he pressed on, a red-hot determination burning in his eyes.
"When will this end?" he grunted, surveying the endless tide of zombies converging upon him.
The soldiers around him were equally exhausted, their weariness evident in the slumping of their shoulders. The undead proved to be relentless, requiring no rest or sustenance, an unyielding force of death that seemed unstoppable.
Only one noble house stood apart—the house of the undead nobility. These soldiers maintained their composure, armed with intelligence and strategy. But even they couldn't keep up this relentless pace forever, for their existence depended on the blood they required to maintain their undead forms.I think you should take a look at
The soldiers who lost their strength succumbed to death, while others, who witnessed the never-ending onslaught of the zombies, began to lose hope, resigning themselves to a grim fate.
"Soldiers, Don't die. Fight even if you are tired to death; giving up is not the answer on this battlefield. Fighting will keep you alive!" roared the leader of the Dragon House of Flames. He swung his enormous sword with astonishing speed, cutting down hordes of zombies in a display of unmatched ferocity.
With each swing, he wondered how long he could keep this up. His muscles screamed with fatigue, and yet he pressed on, unwilling to yield an inch to the undead menace.
Another martial house leader, known for his resilience and strength, crushed the skull of a zombie crawling on the ground, its upper half missing, yet refusing to die. "Damn! Humans at least stay down when cut in half, but these fuckers..." he growled.
Within this whirlwind of chaos, the Knight captain from the Alchemist family approached the martial house leader. "Sir, should we start it?" he inquired, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"Not now," replied the martial house leader. "The formation is still far from what we need. Patience, my friend."
"Yes, sir, as you say," the Knight captain nodded.
Meanwhile, Queen Derein displayed remarkable archery skills, taking down zombies with deadly precision. Yet, even she could sense the tide turning against her forces. Her arrows seemed to be mere pinpricks in the vast sea of undead, as if the enemy's numbers were endless.
"Queen Derein, I need help!" one of Derein's knight captains called out, surrounded by zombies on all sides.
"Yes..." Derein replied, her voice calm yet urgent. She prepared her arrow rain skill, unleashing a devastating barrage that eliminated the surrounding zombies in seconds.
But despite her efforts, one of her knight captains fell, overwhelmed by the relentless onslaught. Derein gritted her teeth, a mixture of anger and sorrow surging within her.
"Shit," she whispered, accepting the loss but determined to help her remaining comrades.
As the battle raged on, the soldiers of the Denver house of justice exhibited remarkable combat prowess, their silver armors glimmering in the rain as they cut through the undead ranks with precision and speed. The rain washed away the blood from their armors, yet their determination remained unwavering.
These knights demonstrated the valor of true warriors, their swords moving in perfect rhythm, their footsteps in flawless harmony. Their techniques and silence were impeccable, a display of martial prowess that left their enemies in awe.
The Denver House soldiers formed four defensive lines, each standing as an impenetrable wall, protecting the backline of mages and healers. The undead horde crashed against the first line, but the defenders held their ground, their swords dancing with lethal grace.
The zombies that somehow survived the first line's onslaught met their doom at the hands of the second and third lines. Only the most relentless and formidable undead made it to the fourth line, but they too were met with unyielding resistance.
The fourth defensive line proved to be an impenetrable fortress, allowing not even a single zombie to breach the backlines. It seemed like the human forces had regained control, their coordinated defense pushing back the relentless enemy.
But then, an earth-shattering roar reverberated through the battlefield, shattering the soldiers' newfound hope. A massive zombie, larger and more fearsome than any they had encountered before, broke through the first defensive line, its gargantuan form shaking the very ground beneath it.
The soldiers surrounding the monstrous undead put up a valiant fight, their swords slicing through its rotting flesh, yet it pressed on, undeterred. It reached the second line, and the soldiers fought with all their might, but the beast refused to fall.
It wasn't until the third line that the soldiers realized they faced an unprecedented challenge. They gathered all their strength and skill to attack the monstrous zombie, but it persisted, reaching the fourth line with an indomitable will.
The fourth line responded with a ferocious assault, desperate to halt the monstrosity's advance. The battlefield seemed to hold its breath as the undead giant faced the final line of defense.
Gwwaaaa
An anguished howl escaped the monstrous zombie as it lunged toward the backlines. Panic spread like wildfire among the mages and healers, their hearts pounding with fear.
The creature was only a few steps away from reaching the vital support units, threatening to turn the tide of the battle once again. Its looming presence struck fear into the hearts of even the most seasoned warriors.
Amidst the chaos, a mage from the Denver House shouted, "It's here! Backline has been invaded! Denver House soldiers, take charge!"
His voice boomed across the battlefield, commanding attention from all those who heard it. The Denver House soldiers instantly understood their role. They withdrew something from their pockets, revealing a previously concealed object.
The other houses looked on in confusion, unsure of what they were witnessing. But the Denver House's knight captain simply nodded, understanding the significance of the moment.
A knight from the house of Dragon Flames asked, "What are you doing?"
The Denver House's knight turned towards him, his eyes ablaze with determination, and spoke three powerful words: "Serving the God."
The battleground trembled beneath the thunderous clash of steel and the roar of undead hordes. Some of the knights from the Denver House of Justice, renowned for their unyielding devotion to their cause, halted their combat momentarily, leaving the soldiers from other houses puzzled by their actions. These Denver knights were no ordinary warriors; they were a breed apart, fueled by an unshakable faith in their purpose.
"What's going on? Why did they stop?" The knights from different houses inquired, their swords still poised for battle.
Inside the healing camps...
High above the chaos, the Great Mother, a formidable figure shrouded in an aura of power, sat upon her throne, using her otherworldly abilities to mend the injured soldiers who sought refuge in her presence. Grad, sought a brief respite to have his injuries tended to. As he approached the Great Mother, her piercing gaze met his, an unspoken understanding passing between them.I think you should take a look at
"The Great Mother, may i ask why have some of your soldiers halted their fight?" Grad inquired, taking a seat beside her.
Her eyes glimmering with wisdom, the Great Mother replied, "Those soldiers are no ordinary fighters, old man. They are blessed with the divine calling to dedicate their lives to the Almighty. Each one of them is bound to a higher purpose, to protect the back lines at any cost."
Perplexed, Grad asked, "Are they planning on...?"
The Great Mother confirmed his suspicion with a solemn nod, "Indeed, they have made their choice."
To the amazement of onlookers, the Denver knights retrieved a peculiar golden vial from their pockets, glistening with an ethereal light—the Holy Doping agent.
Grad's expression turned to a mixture of awe and concern, "You created a suicide squad?"
The Great Mother's demeanor remained calm as she clarified, "No, not a suicide squad. They have renounced all earthly attachments, all worldly desires, and stand ready to embrace the will of the Almighty. This is their solemn vow."
"By the heavens, what have you done?" Grad asked, unable to shake off his astonishment.
Emerging from the tent, Grad witnessed a sight that would forever be etched into his memory. The Denver knights, their bodies radiating an ethereal golden glow, stood steadfast in the face of impending danger.
"In the name of God, I shall surrender before the Almighty," the soldiers intoned, invoking the power of the Holy Doping agent to amplify their skills and overcharge them.
Their blades shone with divine brilliance as they pledged their very souls to the Almighty, their devotion granting them unparalleled strength.
"Soldiers, Offensive Formation!" The troops that had been vigilantly safeguarding the back lines now transformed into an offensive formation, while other Denver knights assumed their former defensive positions with unwavering resolve.
In a blaze of divine glory, the overcharged soldiers surged forth, their battle cries rending the air as they advanced with unparalleled fury. They pushed back the undead horde from the front lines, their actions emanating the echoes of ancient legends.
As the spectacle unfolded, rival knights were taken aback by the sheer display of valor and determination.
"Woah, have they lost their minds? Overcharging like that? Sacrificing themselves?" One of the undead knights commented in awe.
"We must seize this opportunity! We need to push them back before the overcharge wears off!" A soldier from the House of Flames urged, recognizing the momentous opening presented before them.
Heeding the advice, the knights, once sworn enemies, united with the Denver House, charging forward with newfound vigor, leaving a trail of annihilated zombie bodies in their wake. The battleground became a canvas of relentless warfare, the grass beneath their feet swallowed by the tide of carnage.
In the Nightmare Forest...
Within an underground laboratory, a man, draped in a lab coat and glasses, observed the unfolding battle on numerous screens. This enigmatic figure was a mastermind, his eyes alight with a sinister gleam.
"Hehehe, Overcharge just for this? How amusing. Let's see how you handle this," he chuckled darkly, a fiendish smile curling upon his lips as he assessed the situation.
Meanwhile, above ground, Derein, the valiant commander leading the charge, received word that the elite knights from the Denver House had managed to push back the enemy.
"Good, but there's no time to rest on our laurels. We must finish them off once and for all. Charge with everything you've got!" Derein commanded, her voice resolute and unyielding.
"But ma'am, what if something goes wrong? We should leave a party to protect you at all costs," a knight commander expressed concern, recognizing the danger his beloved commander faced.
"No, even a single surviving enemy poses a grave threat to our kingdom. We must eliminate them now, once and for all," Derein declared with unwavering conviction.
As she stepped outside, she was met with a sight of unparalleled valor and glory. The overcharged soldiers from the Denver House fought with unmatched ferocity, a blazing beacon of hope amidst the darkness. These soldiers had transcended the limits of mortal strength, each swing of their blades a testament to their unwavering faith.
Witnessing the soldiers' unyielding resolve and the glory of their battle, Derein's eyes welled with tears. She felt a profound sense of pride and admiration for these brave warriors who had forsaken all for the sake of their cause.
"What has the Great Mother bestowed upon them? These knights shall be immortalized in the annals of history, their names etched into legend," Derein whispered, her heart filled with a mix of awe and sorrow.
As the battlefield quaked with the ferocity of their charge, the overcharged soldiers pressed forward, their determination unyielding. Each stride was a testament to their unwavering resolve and indomitable spirit.
With her kingdom's fate hanging in the balance, Derein clenched her fists, promising herself and her fallen comrades that she would protect both their kingdoms, even if it cost her everything.
The ground beneath them trembled, not only from the unrelenting onslaught but from the birth of legends. The overcharged soldiers, the embodiment of divine fervor and human determination, carved a path of glory through the heart of darkness.
Through the chaos and bloodshed, a symphony of valor echoed across the battlefield—a symphony that would forever be etched in the annals of time, a legacy of the unyielding human spirit and the boundless devotion to a cause greater than oneself. In this crucible of war, true heroes were forged, and legends were born.
The tranquility that settled upon the battlefield was short-lived, as the zombies abruptly halted their mindless advance.
"What sorcery is this? Are they planning to retreat?" questioned one of the battle-hardened warriors, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.
"We cannot allow them to escape," declared another, his eyes ablaze with determination. "We must put an end to this once and for all. Let's show these abominations what true power looks like!"
GrawwwwwwwwI think you should take a look at
A bone-chilling cry reverberated from the depths of the accursed nightmare forest, an eerie echo that sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest souls.
"What in the gods' names was that?" Grad inquired, turning to Frank, the seasoned veteran of many battles, seeking answers.
"They are coming," Frank responded, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and grim acceptance.
"Who? What do you mean?" pressed Grad, eager to understand the unfolding danger.
"Remember that relentless zombie that nearly tore King Arthur and King Grok asunder?" Frank's eyes bore the weight of harrowing memories. "That one didn't make it back, but now we're facing something far more sinister – an army of them."
Grad's heart sank at the revelation. "More of those monstrous fucking fiends? Gods help us!"
"Not just one or two, but a seemingly endless horde," Frank disclosed, his weathered face marked by concern as he surveyed the darkened expanse of the nightmare forest.
Without warning, a multitude of grotesque zombie Chimeras erupted from the shadowy abyss. Their movements were deliberate and methodical, not blindingly swift, but their unholy strength was evident in each step they took.
These abominations defied all reason, creatures forged from the wicked fusion of two fearsome monsters, their once distinct forms now grotesquely combined into an unstoppable force of malevolence. Others were monstrous hybrids, where the monstrous flesh of beasts and the frailty of humanity were twisted together in a gruesome dance of horror.
The earth trembled beneath their advance, and the air became laden with an oppressive aura, suffused with the stench of death and decay.
"Fear not, brothers and sisters! We stand united against this tide of darkness!" proclaimed Grad, his voice a rallying cry that echoed across the ranks of the valiant warriors.
Drawing their weapons, the brave soldiers tightened their formations, ready to face this unholy onslaught. Their faces etched with determination, they embraced the coming storm, knowing that their valor would be tested, their mettle pushed to its limits.
The clash was swift and fierce, the battlefield now transformed into a whirlwind of chaos and carnage. Arrows sang through the air, finding their mark amidst the shambling hordes. Swords clashed against twisted limbs, and spears impaled monstrous torsos.
Grad swung his own blade with deadly precision, cleaving through the unyielding flesh of a zombie Chimera. His heart pounded within his chest as he danced amidst the maelstrom, each stroke a testament to his undying resolve.
Blood and sweat mingled, but the warriors fought on, their spirits unyielding. With every foe they struck down, their fury grew, and their shouts of defiance reverberated across the battlefield like a roaring thunder.
Yet, for every monster felled, two more seemed to emerge from the abyss, their relentless advance threatening to engulf the very souls of the living.
Suddenly the rain stopped and the moon shined in the sky and with the moon light a bird appeared in the sky.
The Zombie Chimeras emerged from the nightmare forest, a relentless force that struck down the overcharged squad of the Denver House within seconds. The ground trembled under the weight of their monstrous bodies as they swarmed the unsuspecting soldiers, tearing through their ranks with savage efficiency.
Hundreds of chimera zombies overpowered them, leaving no chance of survival, even with their overcharge abilities. The soldiers fought valiantly, their weapons clashing against the unholy abominations, but it was like trying to stop a tidal wave with a single hand. The chimera zombies tore through the soldiers at an alarming rate, leaving a trail of blood and carnage in their wake.
In mere minutes, the human armies were cut down by half of what they were at the start. The knights, usually at the forefront of every battle, found themselves being pushed back, their armor no match for the relentless onslaught of the Zombie Chimeras.
"Fall back, everyone! Retreat to our side!" The knight captains bellowed as they witnessed their soldiers falling rapidly. Their voices carried authority and valor, but even they knew the dire situation they faced.
"I will hold them back. All soldiers, retreat immediately! Get the injured to the back lines," Grad, commanded as he drew his second blade, engaging the Chimeras despite his fatigue. He was a formidable warrior, his blades moving with deadly precision, but even he could not withstand the unyielding tide of the undead.
"Soldiers, fall back immediately!" Frank's voice echoed across the battlefield as the soldiers regrouped, returning to their previous positions. The chimera zombies halted their attack and retreated into the forest, their eerie growls lingering in the air.
"Huh? The big zombies have retreated?"
"Sir, they've returned to the forest."
As soon as Derein, saw this, she immediately understood the opposite team's strategy.
"He wants to turn our soldiers into zombies," Derein declared, her eyes narrowing as she analyzed the situation.
"How do you know?" Grok, the king renowned for his strength and wisdom, asked, opening his eyes and focusing on Derein.
"Sir Grok, you are awake! Oh my God, thank the heavens!" One of the healers rushed to Grok's side, her relief evident on her face.
Grok stood up with the help of the healer, glancing at his bandaged legs. He offered a slight smile and spoke, "Well, those seem like some serious side effects, huh?"
"You used forbidden skills and killed hundreds of our soldiers. That's not how a king behaves, I believe," Derein said with a neutral expression, unable to ignore the consequences of Grok's actions.
"Well, I am not a king on the battlefield. I am just a normal soldier, just like them. I saved my friend and your future husband from death's grasp," Grok acknowledged, realizing the price he had paid for his power.
"We lost this battle. They are too many. If we keep fighting here, they'll overwhelm us. If we push them back, those abominations will emerge from the forest and slaughter our soldiers relentlessly. He can easily kill all of us, but he wants us to suffer a slow death, transforming into his zombies," Derein explained grimly, her mind racing for a viable strategy.
"Well, they will not succeed," Grok declared, determination gleaming in his eyes as he stood up, not willing to back down.
"Sir Grok, you are still hurt. You can't return to the battlefield," a young girl, about 13 years old, tried to stop him, her eyes filled with concern.
Grok smiled warmly at the girl and patted her head. "If I don't fight today, your families will have to fight tomorrow. You don't want that, do you, kiddo?"
"But you are injured," the girl protested with genuine worry.I think you should take a look at
"I know. This is the life of a king. You're born on the battlefield, and you die on the battlefield. Thanks to you, I can fight once again. So, thank you, kiddo," Grok expressed proudly with a warm smile, his heart touched by the girl's concern.
"Please take this if you want to fight," the girl offered a slick-looking necklace with an angel figure in the middle.
Grok took the necklace, feeling a refreshing sensation in his body. "This is a healing over time artifact?"
"Yes, sir. My mother gave it to me before I left home and came here," the girl said with a mix of pride and sadness in her voice, knowing the importance of the necklace.
"But I can't take it. Your mother gave it to you, little one," Grok attempted to return the necklace, not wanting to accept such a precious gift.
"Sir, my mother gave this to me so she wouldn't have any regrets if I die on this battlefield today. But I will be at peace if you fight for us today," the girl said with a tearful smile, her voice filled with determination.
Derein felt moved by the girl's selflessness. "Sob-Sob How cute of her. You should accept it," Derein encouraged, her heart touched by the girl's act of bravery.
"Alright, today this king is indebted to you, kiddo. If I survive this battle, I will repay you many times over," Grok promised, knowing that he couldn't let her sacrifice go in vain.
"Please survive, Sir Grok. I will be waiting here for you," the girl said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"If only I had a daughter, I can guarantee she would've been like you," Grok remarked, wearing the necklace around his wrist, the angel figure shining in the moonlight.
"So, what's with this figure? Is she a goddess you worship?" Grok inquired, looking at the figure hanging in the middle of the locket.
"Yes, sir. She is the goddess of fortune, Maria. She stands with those who lose on the battlefield and blesses them with her soldiers to help turn the tide. It is said that she sends her holy blessed soldiers from heaven to assist the side being bullied on the battlefield," the girl shared the story of the goddess Maria, her voice carrying a mix of faith and hope.
"Well, I hope she sends some of them here," Grok stated, tapping the girl's head one last time before leaving the camp with Derein.
"The moon is out," Grok observed with a smile as the rain stopped and the sky cleared, revealing the moonlight that bathed the battlefield in an ethereal glow.
"Sir, your royal sword is here," a soldier rushed towards the camp, presenting Grok with a slim, double-edged sword with intricate engravings.
"Ah, my one and only partner, Lina," Grok spoke, taking the sword from the soldier's hand, its steel gleaming under the moonlight.
As Grok held the sword, a loud sound resonated above the battlefield.
Cawwwww
The moon was shining brightly, blood was flying over the battlefield and soldiers were dying endlessly.
King Grok has taken his royal sword in his hands but before he could've unsheathed it, a loud sound was heard from above the battlefield.
*Cawwwww*
Everyone looked above and noticed a big three eyed raven flying high in the sky, covering the moon with it's wings and riding above it, was it's owner.
A man wearing a steel plated mask on his face, he was wearing normal cloths, white shirt, Black pants and black coat but the environment around him was different.
He didn't seemed neither like a foe nor like an enemy. He wasn't emitting any bloodlust.
The raven was moving towards the human front lines.
"What is that ?" Grok asked Derein.
"Don't know but i don't think he is from their side and even if he is from their side, he is coming here to talk, i think." Derein answered.
"Well, let's see what-"
*Thump-Thump*
Before gork could've completed his sentence the rocks near the battlefield started vibrating.
"What is happening ?" Derein asked.
"I don't know but whatever it is, it's coming from that direction." Grok answered as he pointed towards the outskirts of the capital.
Suddenly the man riding over the black raven jumped off of it.
"Shit, i think he plans on clearing our front lines." Derein spoke as she pointed her bow towards the falling man.
"No, He is not a zombie. He is a human, don't shoot. I will go their by myself, you take of the things that are coming from that side." Grok said as he immediately started running towards the front.
"Okay and please don't get Killed or i will kill you this time." Derein shouted.
*Boom*
The man landed on the front lines of the humans, where the house of undead's soldiers were killing the zombies with their utmost energy.
"Who are you ? Answer or die." Frank immediately pointed his sword towards the man wearing the mask.
"Your father." The masked man spoke.
"What ?"
Suddenly a force of ogres covered in full plated mithiril armours, riding on the direwolfs appeared on the north side of the battlefield.
The Ogres stopped as they saw that Derein is blocking the way with many soldiers of the house undead behind her.
"Who are you ? State your purpose." Derein asked as she pointed her bow towards no.300 who was riding on her Red direwolf.
No.300 jumped off of the direwolf and came closer to Derein.
"Don't come close, tell me who you are or i will eliminate you right now." Derein shouted.
"Master." No.300 pointed towards Anon who was talking to frank at the front lines.
"What ?"
In the middle of this Grok reached on the front lines and saw frank pointing his sword at the masked man.
Frank who was still trying to figure out who he was suddenly looked at the Ogres standing on the north of the battlefield.
"Are you...?" Frank immediately understood that the man standing in front of him was none other than Anon himself because only he had the power to call over 50,000 ogres with a single call in the whole kingdom.
"Yes, now back off."
"Who are you again ?" Grok asked as he tried to be smart in the middle of the conversation.I think you should take a look at
"Yes, Sir." Frank said sheathing his sword back.
"What ?" Grok asked witha confused expression.
This man just said, back off and he listened to him so easily ?
"Soldiers of the undead house, back off. We are going back to the backlines." Frank shouted.
Every single soldier from the house of Undead listened to Frank's orders and started falling back.
"Frank what are you doing ? Is he on our side ?" Grok asked.
"It doesn't matter. If he is on their side, then there is no means in fighting and If He is on our side then there is no need for us to fight. I am backing off with my house and believe me you should back off too, believe on this one there is no good in getting our soldiers killed for no reason." Frank explained to grok as he tapped him on his shoulder and left.
Before leaving Frank turned back one last time and asked Anon, "Sir, one question if you don't mind. What side are you really on ?"
Anon didn't said anything and just summoned his sickles of death as he turned towards the zombies.
"Hahaha, it's time to see the real fight." Frank laughed as he left.
All the soldiers from the noble house of Undead who were with Derein aslo backed off to the backlines, listening to their family leader's command
"Soldiers, March Forward." Anon shouted.
The ogre warriors walked from in between the soldiers with their mithiril armours and their sharp weapons shining in the moonlight.
Some had axe pairs in their hands, whereas some of them hand swords, morning stars and spears.
"What is happening ?"
"Who are they ?"
"I don't know, but look their skin is green. It means they are monsters."
"What are they planning on doing ?"
"I will say this just once, get your soldiers to the backlines or mine will not differentiate while killing." Anon said as he looked at grok and the other knight captains.
"How do we believe-" before grok could've even completed his sentence, Anon disappeared from his position and appeared behind grok, his sickles around grok's necks.
The incredible speed surprised even grok.
"Y-You, what are you ?" Grok asked.
"I would've killed you, if i wanted to. Just get your soldiers back and let me handle this." Anon said as he removed the sickles from grok's neck and went back to his previous position.
At this moment, grok's eyes only focused on one thing and that was the necklace that the little girl gave him.
"Y-Yes... Everyone Back off. It's an official order back off." Grok shouted.
"But sir-" One of the knight captain tried to interrupt but before he could've said anything else geok interrupted him in the middle of his talk.
"Just do as i say. We don't have many options." Grok spoke.
Everyone backed off to the backlines and the zombies again started coming towards the continent.
"Soldiers get ready."
"Yes, Master." All 50,000 of them spoke at the same time, giving goosebumps to every soldier present on the battlefield.
Anon activated his skill.
"Soldiers, Valheim." Anon shouted.
Amidst the chaos of battle, Anon stood like an unyielding force, his voice cutting through the din of the battlefield. "Soldiers, Valheim!" The resounding cry ignited an inferno of determination within No.300 and the formidable Ogre warriors. With a battle cry that shook the heavens, they charged at the relentless zombie horde, unleashing their might with an unparalleled ferocity.
In a realm where a human knight could only hope to slay five to seven zombies at most, the Ogres were a spectacle of devastation, each warrior dispatching 10 to 15 undead foes at once. Their sinewy muscles and formidable weapons carved through the enemies like a hurricane, leaving trails of shattered corpses in their wake.
Yet, Anon was on an entirely different level. The mysterious warrior was a whirlwind of destruction, an enigmatic force that seemed to transcend mere mortals. Each zombie that dared encroach upon his Domain faced instant obliteration, their heads severed cleanly from their bodies with a single deft stroke of his blade.
The sight left onlookers bewildered and awestruck. Queen Derein turned to King Grok, her expression a mix of astonishment and curiosity. "How is he doing that?"
"I-I don't know," King Grok stammered, his gaze fixed on Anon's relentless prowess. "His speed, his strength... it's overwhelming, and his techniques are beyond comprehension."
The battlefield was a symphony of chaos and fury, but Anon moved with a grace and precision that seemed to defy the laws of physics. He danced amongst the zombies, leaving a trail of decapitated bodies in his wake. The sheer mastery of his swordplay was both terrifying and mesmerizing.
"We can't simply stand back and watch," King Grad remarked, observing Anon with a mix of awe and concern.
King Grok hesitated, recalling the warning Anon had issued. "He cautioned us against interfering. His ogre soldiers might mistake us for enemies in the midst of the chaos, and that could be disastrous."
"True," King Grad acknowledged, his eyes never leaving Anon's relentless performance. "But such a display of power... it's remarkable."
"He warned us of the consequences," Queen Derein chimed in. "For now, let us bear witness to his prowess."
The battle raged on, and as the Ogres' might pushed the zombie horde back toward the border of the nightmare forest, King Grad prepared to join the fray. The temptation to aid Anon was strong, but he resisted, knowing the potential consequences.
"Frank, should we not help him?" King Grok inquired anxiously.
Frank's eyes gleamed with confidence and amusement. "No need, your majesty. He won't fall easily. He's made of mithril, a force to be reckoned with."
"Mithril?" Both King Grok and King Grad echoed in disbelief.
"Indeed. Watch," Frank said, directing their attention back to Anon.
As Anon reached the edge of the nightmare forest, the zombies inexplicably froze in place, their undead march coming to an eerie halt. Even the ogres ceased their assault, awaiting Anon's command.
"Master," No.300 spoke with reverence, halting her attack on the zombies.
"Prepare yourselves," Anon ordered, his voice echoing with authority.
"Yes, sir," No.300 responded, her grip on her axes tightening.
From the depths of the nightmare forest, hundreds of zombie Chimeras emerged, charging with newfound fury towards the Ogres. But this time, it was different.
"Soldiers, activate your cores!" Anon's voice thundered across the battlefield.
The ogre soldiers wasted no time, tapping on the blue cores embedded in their armors. A surge of magical energy flowed into their bodies, infusing them with unparalleled power. Their weapons glowed, the enchantments etched upon them awakening with a luminous brilliance.
The ogres erupted into triumphant laughter, invigorated by the surge of power coursing through their veins. Anon's mastery over the monster cores had unlocked their true potential, rendering them virtually unstoppable.
"Your majesty, this power is overwhelming! I feel like tearing through anything in my path!" One of the ogres bellowed with adrenaline-fueled exuberance.
"Then seize the opportunity, son. Embrace the battle," Anon said with a knowing smile. And in an instant, he vanished from his position, reappearing amidst a trio of charging chimeras.
Before the bewildered creatures could react, their heads were severed from their bodies, leaving their lifeless forms collapsing in his wake.
"Impossible! His speed is beyond human!" King Grok marveled in disbelief.
"In times like these, you must become a monster or wield one," Derein said with a subtle grin, acknowledging the unprecedented power of Anon and his ogre soldiers.
Empowered by the magical energy coursing through their bodies, the ogres surged forward, effortlessly dispatching the chimera zombies with newfound ease. The battlefield became a symphony of destruction, and the Ogres reigned as the harbingers of doom, shattering the undead onslaught.
Within the hidden laboratory of the nightmare forest, a man with blonde hair clenched his fist in frustration. "Damn that kid! Why does he keep interfering with my plans?"I think you should take a look at
Unyielding in his determination, he manipulated a lever on the control panel, seeking a way to hinder Anon's relentless advance. "I won't rest until this kingdom lies in ruins. I'll stop at nothing to achieve my goal."
As if in response to his declaration, the zombie Chimeras suddenly changed direction, converging on Anon like a tidal wave of death.
"They're targeting the masked man!" Queen Derein observed, recognizing the shift in the undead's focus.
"Should we intervene and assist him?" King Grok asked with concern, ready to join the fray.
"No," Frank asserted, halting King Grad's advance. "Let us witness this display of power. This guy won't falter easily."
A wicked grin etched across Anon's face as he stared down the horde of charging Chimeras, his sharp teeth glinting in the midst of chaos. To the untrained eye, it might seem like madness, but to those who recognized true power, it was the mark of a fearsome and unstoppable force.
Amidst the chaotic battlefield, Anon's commanding voice rang out once more, exuding a potent mixture of confidence and determination. "Excellent. Magnificent. Last time, I lacked full control over my mind, but now, I know exactly what I'm doing. Come, you bastards! I'll show you who I truly am!"
Derein's brow furrowed as she observed Anon from afar, concern etched on her face. What could have brought about such a radical transformation in him? Yet, she couldn't deny the power he wielded. In this dire confrontation with the undead hordes, they needed every ally they could muster.
"He's not moving from his spot. Is something wrong with him, Frank?" Derein asked, seeking her trusted advisor's insight. Frank, ever composed, watched Anon attentively, waiting to see the full extent of his abilities.
"No, wait. Don't do anything," Frank advised, recognizing that Anon was about to unleash something extraordinary.
A message materialized in front of Anon, a testament to the dark powers at play within him.
[SCYTHE OF DEATH: FINAL FORM]
Anon's voice reverberated through the battleground once more, his words carrying the weight of impending doom. "Let's roll, you bastards!" With a swift, graceful motion, the sickles of death in his hands merged once again, forming the awe-inspiring Scythe of Death - darker than the blackest night and as profound as the abyss.
"Ogres, get down!" He commanded, recognizing the immense destructive force about to be unleashed. The ogres, unyielding in their loyalty, immediately obeyed, crouching low to the ground.
"Everyone, down!" No.300 echoed, and the entire band of ogres followed suit, taking cover.
Anon seized the scythe's handle, his grip resolute. With an effortless yet powerful motion, he executed a 360° spin, like a malevolent whirlwind, aimed squarely at the encircling undead menace.
In the blink of an eye, a tremendous burst of dark energy erupted from the scythe's blade, a cataclysmic wave of death that swept across the battlefield. The zombies and chimera zombies, surrounding Anon from all sides, were obliterated in an instant, their lifeless forms falling like discarded puppets.
As the spinning came to an end, nothing remained in the vicinity but the grim remnants of the once-ferocious undead horde - an eerie silence replacing the tumult of battle.
"Hahaha... This is exhilarating!" Anon's voice resonated with amusement beneath his mask, the darkness of the battlefield contrasting with the wicked grin that formed beneath it.
The onlookers, awestruck and shaken by the devastating display, struggled to comprehend the source of this newfound power. "What in the world is wrong with him? Where did he even come from?" King Grok questioned, astonished by the extent of the carnage before them.
"Hahaha, he never disappoints," Frank chuckled, his respect for Anon's abilities deepening.
"Frank, remind me again, what's your relationship with this guy?" Grad inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"Oh, Sir Grad, he's just a friend of mine," Frank replied nonchalantly, though even he couldn't fully fathom the extent of Anon's prowess.
"Well, you better invite him to the after-party," Grok said with a laugh, the tension momentarily lifted by the thrill of victory.
However, Derein's expression remained solemn and resolute, her mind absorbed in a quandary. "No, we must eliminate him," she declared with a stern expression, causing a ripple of astonishment among the assembled leaders.
Frank, Grok, Grad, and the other knight captains stared at Derein, their faces filled with tension. "Queen Derein, what are you suggesting? Are you proposing that we kill an ally who has aided us in such dire circumstances?" Grad asked, seeking to understand her reasoning.
"Yes, that is precisely what I'm suggesting," Derein replied, her voice unwavering, eyes scanning the aftermath of destruction around the Place.
In the aftermath of their heated discussion, tensions simmered within the war room. The air crackled with a sense of urgency and impending conflict. Derein, the queen, leaned against the massive wooden table, her expression resolute. She glanced around at her advisors, her eyes locking with each one in turn. They all knew that their decision today could shape the destiny of their kingdom.
"That guy commands those Ogre monsters, and they are slaughtering these zombies like ants. Our soldiers were struggling against the zombies moments ago. Have you considered what might happen if he decides to turn against us?" Derein's voice echoed through the room.
All eyes were fixed on Anon, the enigmatic figure who held such power over the monstrous Ogres. The room fell into a heavy silence as Derein's warning struck a nerve, the gravity of the situation settling upon them like a suffocating fog.
"She's right, I believe," King Grok added his agreement, his deep voice resonating through the room.
"Hmm, it's one of the possibilities. I can't say for sure," King Grad weighed in, his regal countenance masking his uncertainty.
"I think I'll trust my queen's judgment," Derein's Knight Commander spoke, pledging his loyalty.
"Me too. I believe we should eliminate him," the leader of the House of Alchemists chimed in, her keen mind assessing the situation.
"Me too."
"We will help as well," others in the room joined the chorus, aligning with Derein's decision to kill Anon.
In just ten minutes, the entire room had come to a unanimous decision to eliminate Anon. The atmosphere was charged with adrenaline and the anticipation of a dangerous undertaking.
Amidst the fervent agreement, a dissenting voice stood strong. Frank, a distinguished and cunning figure, remained seated at the far end of the table, seemingly unaffected by the overwhelming consensus. He was known for his shrewdness and pragmatism, a man who played the political game with a calculated hand.
"Frank, you're the only one left. Are you with us or against us?" Queen Derein inquired, her emerald eyes scrutinizing him.
"Well, count me and my house out. I don't want to die so young," Frank chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the gravity of the situation.
"What nonsense? He's just one, and we are many. Why are you still taking his side?" Marinda, the leader of the witch house, expressed her disbelief.
Frank leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and determination. "That's my decision," he maintained.
His defiance provoked the ire of some in the room, but Derein held up her hand, silencing them. "Put your swords down," she commanded, her regal authority demanding obedience.
The men hesitated, their hands gripping the hilts of their swords. But when Derein spoke again, her voice like a steel blade, they relented and withdrew their weapons. Frank's unwavering stance had won him a temporary reprieve.
"Why? Why do you believe in him so much? Can he save you from all these men here?" Derein inquired, her eyes sharp as she sought to break Frank's faith in Anon.
Frank's gaze met hers, his voice unwavering. "He can," he answered confidently, refusing to falter.
"He can't, Frank. He alone can't stand against so many soldiers. He needs those ogres to do his bidding. He may have one or two tricks, but he can't save you against my army," Derein tried to reason, her tactics in full display.I think you should take a look at
But Frank's belief in Anon ran deep, rooted in a profound understanding of the young man's abilities. "No, you won't understand. Okay, I can do this. I won't tell him anything about your plan, and you won't involve me in all of this. I'll remain neutral. Is that good?" Frank proposed, seeking a middle ground.
Derein considered his offer, weighing the risk of losing an ally who held valuable information. "Accepted, but if you tell him anything, death will be the last thing you need to worry about," she warned with a steely glare.
"Don't worry, he doesn't need my help to survive an ambush," Frank assured, leaving the tent with an enigmatic smile.
As Frank exited the war room, he couldn't help but mutter to himself, "Idiots. Why would they want to eliminate someone who just saved their asses and someone who can kill them without blinking?"
Meanwhile, in the heart of the Nightmare Forest, a separate battle was unfolding. An ominous laboratory hummed with dark energy as its mastermind, a blonde-haired man, reveled in his plan's failure. But rather than despair, his countenance bore a twisted grin.
"Well, since my plan has already failed because of this Anon guy, why not punish him for his interference," the blonde-haired man mused, his voice laced with malice. His hand hovered over the control panel, his fingers poised to unleash chaos upon his enemies.
Before he could act, a chilling voice interrupted him, "Or die here by my hands."
The man whirled around, his eyes widening in shock as he beheld the figure standing behind him—a fearsome warrior named Mike, whose loyalty to his master was unwavering.
"What the... How did you get here? No, how did you even find me?" the man stammered, fear creeping into his voice.
"My master has ordered me to keep you alive as long as you cooperate with me. The choice is yours. Press down that lever or live," Mike spoke with a chilling calm.
"I choose both," the man declared, his grip on the lever tightening.
"Okay." In a flash, Mike vanished and reappeared behind the man. But before he could strike, the man disappeared, reappearing where Mike had stood.
"Oh, nice skills," the blonde man taunted, his smile never faltering.
But Mike wasn't so easily deterred. He dashed toward the man with deadly intent, but once again, the man vanished, transforming into a cloud of white smoke that dissipated into the air.
"This motherfucker," Mike cursed, failing his master's task and knowing that he would face the consequences.
Meanwhile, back in the underground city, Sephie noticed something peculiar amidst the chaos of the zombies. Amongst seven trees, only six spawned zombies. The seventh tree, larger than the others, stood silent, an eerie stillness about it.
Investigating further, she dispatched Mike to explore the enigmatic tree. As Mike approached, he noticed a hidden hole in the trunk, carefully concealed by sticks and leaves. Curiosity piqued, he followed the trail, leading him to the mastermind behind the ominous laboratory.
However, just as he was about to apprehend him, the man vanished without a trace, leaving Mike seething with frustration.
Thump-Thump Thump Thump
"Master, Something big is approaching us at high speed." No.300 alerted Anon.
"I know. Fall back and prepare yourselves." Anon commanded with unwavering composure.
"What's that sound? It's like something is—" Before Queen Derein could finish her sentence, a colossal abomination emerged from the depths of the forest.
In the midst of the desolate battlefield, a monstrous abomination emerged from the nightmare forest—a zombie Chimera of unfathomable horror. This twisted creation bore the fusion of a Troll and an Armoured Bear, a grotesque melding that defied the laws of nature. Towering over the forsaken landscape, its massive form cast an ominous shadow over all in its path.
The zombie Chimera's appearance was the stuff of nightmares. A twisted, decaying zombie face protruded from its chest, its vacant milky eyes instilling terror in any who dared meet its gaze. Blue veins snaked across its monstrous form, pulsating with unnatural energy—a stark reminder of its unholy origins.
Metal plating covered almost 70% of the zombie Chimera's body, a result of twisted experiments and dark sorcery. This armored hide rendered it nearly impervious to conventional attacks, transforming it into a formidable foe. The clanging of metal plates echoed with each movement, amplifying the creature's terrifying presence, making it an overwhelming sight.
Despite its massive and imposing figure, the zombie Chimera defied expectations. Its agility was astonishing, moving with an unsettling grace that contradicted its grotesque appearance. In a fluid motion, it closed the gap between itself and its prey, striking with deadly precision and unyielding force.
Clutched in its immense, rotting hands was a massive axe, a weapon forged in the depths of darkness itself. The blade was stained with the blood of countless victims, a chilling testament to the destruction it had wrought. The sight of its wicked weapon sent shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to witness it.
Inside the tent, astonishment gripped everyone as they beheld this Abomination.
"What the hell is that?" Grok questioned as he stepped out of the tent, sensing the fear emitted by the soldiers at the sight of the mutated zombie chimera.
"I-I want to go home," one of the female soldiers expressed.
"Me too," another added.
"Can we kill it? Or even get close to it?" A soldier wondered aloud, his face grim.
"That guy, he's still standing there. Look." One of the soldiers pointed at Anon.
Derein stepped out of the tent and spoke decisively, "If he dies fighting that thing, it's to our advantage. And if that thing dies, I bet he'll be exhausted. We can take him down easily."
"Wait, you plan to ambush him on the battlefield?" Grok asked in surprise.I think you should take a look at
"Yes, and I intend to finish him off in one blow," Derein replied, a smile playing on her lips.
Grok's suspicion grew, and he questioned, "Derein, do you remember that incident with King Freddie in the valleys of the west?"
"Hmmm, oh yes, that incident. That was quite thrilling," Derein responded.
Grok leveled his sword at Derein, his anger evident. "What are you doing, Grok ? Have you gone insane ? Did you hit your head somewhere on the field ?" Derein asked, taken aback.
"Who the hell are you ? Answer at once or you will face dire consequences, i promise you." Grok demanded, his expression furious.
"What? I am Queen Derein Grok—" Derein tried to speak but was abruptly interrupted by grok.
"Don't say her name, you imposter. Queen Derein would never agree to something she never did. There was no guy named Freddie in our lives, and we never went to the valleys of the west together. So, who are you?" Grok interjected with a more angry Expression on his face as he brings his sword's tip closer to Derein's neck.
"I also had my suspicions for the past three hours. Your decision-making process has changed. Queen Derein never executed anything without consulting another king or queen. Yet, for the past three hours, you've been giving absolute commands, and your demeanor is too calm for a queen whose lover is lying half-dead on a bed. My suspicions were confirmed when you thought of the plan to kill Anon—the guy who saved your people from those zombies.
Queen Derein would never do something like that. She never forgets a kindness or a grudge. She wouldn't kill someone who helped her in this dire situation, let alone ambush him. You've broken character." Grad asserted, stepping out of the camp, surrounded by many knights.
"Well, since I'm caught. Why not indulge in some bloodshed?" Derein's clone taunted as she gestured toward the knights of her continent.
The knights immediately attacked the knights from the other continents.
"Don't underestimate me, imposter." Grad declared as he activated his skill.
[Imperial Judgment, a skill veiled in both awe and dread, bestowed upon its wielder the power of divine arbitration. With this ability, the user could pass the verdict of life and death upon others, bearing the weight of ultimate judgment in their hands. Upon mastering this skill, a mark of judgment would be emblazoned upon the chosen targets, signifying their fate was now tethered to the host's discernment.
When activated, the user's eyes would gleam with an otherworldly radiance, exuding an aura of profound authority. The chosen targets would find themselves branded with the mark, a symbol that bore the gravity of their fate. From that moment on, their lives were irrevocably entwined with the whims of the host's judgment.
But with great power came an even greater risk, for the burden of Imperial Judgment rested not just on those marked but also upon the host. As an arbiter of life and death, the user carried the immense responsibility of deciphering the truth. Should they be deceived or misled in their verdict, the consequences would be dire. If the accused were proven innocent, the host would bear the brunt of their own judgment. A dark curse would befall them, a punishment commensurate with the gravity of their mistake.]
Suddenly Grad's eyes glowed golden and big golden swords appeared in front of every knight that was from Derein's Kingdom.
"You all have been proven guilty." Grad shouted as the golden swords hovering above the soldiers pierced through their hearts making them immobile at once.
As the soldier's lifeless bodies fell down on the ground, The clone who was posing as queen Derein tried to run away as everyone was focused on the soldiers.
"Where are you going ?" Derein's Knight commander grabbed the clones's hand and pulled her back.
"Ouch, Ouch... You blockhead don't do that i feel pain in my hand." The clone shouted as she hitted the knight commander at her hand.
"Oh, Don't worry many things will hurt just wait a bit." The knight commander spoke as he squeezed tightly and broke her hand bone.
*Crack*
"Ahhhhhhh.... You are crushing my hand you shit head." The clone shouted.
"You, I am giving you this task. Get this imposter inside and get out as much information as you can out of her. Oh yes, remember to get the information about where the real queen Derein is." Grok said to Derein's knight commander.
"Yes, sir." The knight commander spoke as he took the clone inside the tent.
"You, Call back the house leader of the undead house." Grad orders one of the knights.
"Yes, sir." The knight immediately started running towards the way, that frank left from.
"Well, that's a good move i have to say but-" before grad could've said anything a sword was pointed at his face.
"Prove, That you are the king Grad and not some other clone of him." Grok spoke with a cautious expression.
Before Grok could've even seen anything, Grad pointed his sword at his guts from below.n./𝑜--𝔳.-𝑒)-𝗅//𝓫(.I)/n
"You too, prove. That you are king Grok." Grad spoke.
"Very well, I am King Grok because i assisted you in getting laid with that MILF-" Before Grok could've completed his sentence Grad interrupted him midway.
"Yes, you are grok. Don't say anymore." Grad said as he took his sword back.
"Now, you prove that you are king grad." Grok asked maintaining his sword near grad's neck.
"Well, the next day when i woke up and walked into your room you were with that MILF'S daughter and you were doing it in-"
"Woah, okay you are the king Grad." Grok immediately interrupted Grad.
"Whoever did this, he or she can't be a normal guy. We placed swords on each other's neck. No ordinary guy can bring us to do that." Grok spoke sheathing his sword once again.
"Yup you are absolutely right, but who can this guy be ? Did we do something wrong with him ? Or is he just some crazy scientist that tried to take over the world with those things." Grad said as he also seathed his sword and laughed a little.
"Let's go and help that kid, i don't think he knows how much a troll regenerates. He will definitely need our help with this one." Grad spoke as he started running towards anon.
"Yes, let's go." Grok spoke as he followed behind.
"Ah, A troll chimera. After seeing you i have this itching to make my own chimeras now." Anon said as he looked at the troll zombie Chimera.I think you should take a look at
"Grawwwwwwwaaaaa....." The Chimera growled so loudly that the ogre soldiers standing behind Anon also got scared for one second.
"Come boy, I don't think you have any idea that i am wearing a locket made from one of your relatives." Anon said as he gesturesd to come forward towards the zombie Chimera.
The Chimera immediately got taunted by Anon and started running towards him with his axes swinging around in his hands.
Anon used a skill as he pointed towards the chimera's legs.
Suddenly the chimera's left leg slipped and he fell down but as soon as he fell down the connection between the chimera and the ground broke meaning he was most vulnerable at that second.
Anon didn't missed this chance and pointed his sickle right at the spot where his neck will fall before touching the ground.
*Chk*
And That's what happened, the ogre fell down and his neck was cut off of his body, killing him in that very second.
"Sorry friend but the genius who created you forgot to cover your neck with that metal armour. Well, have good trip to hell." Anon said as he wiped off blood feom his armour.
At the same moment, Grok and Grad reached there.
As soon as they saw the dead troll zombie, both of them were shocked to death.
"You killed him." Grok spoke with a non believing look on his face.
"How the fuck did you kill a troll with so ease ? Even a normal troll won't die that easily. You killed him in mere seconds. How ? Is that sickle enchanted with last level array or something ?" Grad asked as he looked at the sickles in Anon's hands.
"Well, here Check them yourself." Anon said as he puts the sickles of death on the ground.
"Wait, really ? I can like take them in my hands and scan them ? And you are okay with it ?" Grad asked with a surprised expression.
"Yeah." Anon replied.
"Okay." Grad said as he bent down and grabbed one of the sickle's handle but when he tried to pick it up, a force larger than anything was felt from the sickle.
It felt as if he was trying to lift the world itself.
"An Owner Granted Special Grade Weapon, custom made with blood signature. Kid, did you made this ?" Grad asked.
"No, A friend of mine."
"Is your friend's name, Biyuk Kujer the Betrayer ?" Grad asked.
"Yes, why is something wrong with it ?" Anon asked as he puts both of his hands around his waist.
"No, nothing wrong it's just that he was banned from his own Kingdom long ago, and these markings. They are not something that an ordinary dwarf can make." Grad spoke.
As the sun rised from the horizon, casting long shadows over the battlefield, Anon, the valiant warrior and renowned ally of the human kingdom, stood amidst the remnants of a hard-fought clash. Bloodied and battle-worn, his sharp eyes scanned the aftermath of the brutal confrontation. By his side, his loyal soldiers stood, their faces showing a mix of exhaustion and triumph. Among the fallen enemy ranks, eerie figures of the undead lay still, their lifeless forms a testament to the horrors of the dark arts at play.
Amidst the carnage, king gork, approached Anon with a confident smile on his face. "Well, let's put all that aside," Grok proposed with a sly grin, "why don't you and your soldiers join us in our tents for a well-deserved rest? We have an excellent feast prepared. The royal cook has just arrived, and we're about to celebrate the soldiers' victory with an official feast."
Anon's eyes narrowed, his instincts alert. "This place reeks," he retorted, his battle-honed senses ever vigilant.
"Well, you see, these soldiers have just achieved another day of living for their kingdom, their families, and their kings and queens," king grok, explained. "They prefer to savor the rewards of their triumphs right on the battlefield. This feast is their celebration. However, it's entirely fine if you want to join us later for the official feast inside the castle."
Grrrrr
The stomach of one of the ogres growled with hunger, and Anon couldn't help but hear it. Amidst the tension, the warrior couldn't deny the hunger of his own soldiers.
"Well, it seems my soldiers are hungry too. We'll join you," Anon agreed, realizing that a good meal would replenish their strength.
"That's fantastic. Please, follow me," Grok said, leading the way towards the tents.
As Anon walked toward the tents, he noticed something peculiar amidst the fallen zombie corpses. Pausing, he bent down, inspecting the face of one of the zombies and noticed another with an identical face nearby. His sharp mind immediately picked up on the oddity.
"Is something amiss, sir?" Grok asked Anon, noticing the king's curiosity.
"No.300, bring that zombie's body here," Anon commanded, pointing to one of the bodies.
"Yes, master," No.300, his loyal slave, complied, bringing the body to Anon for further examination.
"Hmmm... They look similar," Grad observed as he examined the faces of the three bodies.
"Bring those two as well," Anon commanded, keen on understanding the strange occurrence.
The ogres, respectful of Anon's prowess, followed his orders, bringing two more corpses that looked alike but differed from the first three.
"This is cloning. It's banned in our-"
"I know what cloning is and why it's banned," Anon interrupted Grok abruptly. Interrupting a king is not an ordinary thing.
"Oh, well, that's good," Grok responded, acknowledging Anon's expertise.
"Do you have any idea who could do this? Not many people can cast a cloning spell; it's quite challenging," Anon inquired, gazing at Grok and Grad with a focused intensity.
"Well, yes, this spell is very difficult to cast. There were only five talents in my kingdom who could perform it, but they all died years ago. I don't believe anyone in my kingdom knows how to create clones," Grok explained, puzzled by the presence of the clones.
As Anon absorbed this information, his thoughts raced. 'This fucker isn't just creating clones; he's turning them into zombies too. It seems he's been preparing for a long time, given the number of cloned zombies. Who is this person, and what does he want? To destroy this kingdom or conquer the world?' Anon pondered silently as he stood up once more and resumed walking toward the tent.
"Well, we've got one of the clones in our tent as well," Grok revealed.
"What?" Anon asked with a puzzled expression, intrigued by this revelation.
"Yes, it tried to pose as one of our friends, Queen Derein," Grad clarified.I think you should take a look at
"May I see it?" Anon requested, eager to understand the situation better.
"Certainly, if it's still alive. We handed it over to Queen Derein's knight commander for investigation. If the clone is still alive, you may take a look," Grok said with a smile, respecting Anon's authority.
As they reached the tents, Anon, Grad, and Grok hastened to the interrogation area, where a long line of soldiers had assembled.
"What is happening here ?" Grok shouted.
"Oh shit."
"Fuck, run."
"It's the king. Run for your life."
All the soldiers ran away as soon as they saw king Grok.
"Oooh, i think i may know what's going on, in there." Anon said with a smile underneath his mask.
As soon as grok entered inside, he immediately walked out of the tent with a horrible expression on his face.
"What happened grok ? Why your face looks so horrible ?" Grad asked.
"That- Inside the tent, Looks- *Bwaaaahh*" Grok tried to explain before he started vomiting.
"What the fuck is going on inside that tent." Grad asked as he himself went inside it.
Seconds later he also came out with a very shocked face.
"Hah, now can i go inside ?" Anon asked as he tapped on Grad's shoulder.
*Tap*
"Huh...? Y-Yes but please remember that she is only a clone of queen Derein not queen Derein herself." Grad spoke.
"Good, i will try to remember that one. Oh, don't come inside because i will be talking with my mask off and i don't want anyone here to see my face that's why... You understand right ?" Anon asked grad.
"Y-Yes, i do. No one will come inside during your interrogation." Grad spoke with the shocked expression still on his face.
Anon entered inside and what he saw was a horrible view but not the one that he hadn't seen already.
As soon as he entered inside the first thing he saw was Queen Derein's clone restrained into a wooden wall with three holes in it.
One for her neck and two others for her hands. She was fully naked, her legs opened wide in a C shape facing downwards.
On her left butt there was written different things like.
'Freeuse hole.'
'Hoe Queen.'
'Bitchy Queen who is a saw now.'
On her right butt only one thing was written.
'Number of Times i came inside Queen Derein.' and beneath it many lines were drawn telling the number of how many soldiers came inside her pussy and how many times.
These lines came down to her knee, which means the number of times cumming inside was greater than 100 by now.
Her pussy was dripping with cum and more cum was coming out of it with time. A bucket was placed directly under her pussy that was collecting the cum dripping out of it.
Her pussy lips and ass was fully red due to beating and slapping.
A bottle of alcohol was upside-down in her asshole, as her body twitched everytime, a small amount of alcohol went inside her ass.
"Haaha... I don't think Queen Derein is a good queen to her soldiers huh ?" Anon said as he went ahead and slapped her but once again moving to her front.
*Slap*
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"Hello, Queen Derein. Are you Alright love ?" Anon asked but when he noticed her face, he also felt terrible for once.
Piss covered her face, Cum was coming out of her mouth and her lower lip was pierced with a clip that was connected to a thread that was connected to both of her breasts, that were also pierced with pins.
Two hooks made out of soldier's belts were stuck in her nose holes giving her the look of a pig, her eyes were barely opening, her breasts were also covered in cum.
"Ooooh, That's some disgusting stuff but personally, i like it." Anon said as he used a spell on her.
Suddenly a layer of water covered her whole body and cleaned her body from inside and outside both.n𝔒𝓋𝑒/𝐿𝚋/In
Anon looked at the restrained clone of Queen Derein, her eyes closing due to cumming so much. Her attempt to infiltrate their ranks had failed, but her determination remained evident, because if she would've spoken something by now, the soldiers wouldn't be fucking her like a pig.
"Oi, wake up," Anon said firmly, slapping the clone's face to get her attention.
"Huh...You ? You bastard! You ruined my master's plan to kill them. Now he'll kill you first," the clone retorted, revealing her allegiance to a mysterious mastermind.
"Alright, bring him to me when he has the time. I'll make sure that delusional fool understands this world doesn't work according to his books," Anon responded, unyielding in the face of threats as he showed her the red book he found back then.
The clone's confident demeanor wavered, revealing a crack in her façade. "You have my master's book. Give it back to me, you bastard," she demanded, her desperation palpable but whenever she moved her mouth her boobs jiggled due to the thread connecting them.I think you should take a look at
"I will not give it back. What can you do ? Kill me by shaking your ass ?" Anon asked with a smirk on his face.
"Y-You... Wait. Let's make a deal. I, Queen Derein will become your personal cum-dump if you give the book back to my master. What do you think of it ? You won't get a Queen cum-dump everyday will you ?" The clone spoke as a cunning smile appeared on her lips.
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"How many times did they fuck you ?" Anon asked with a smile.
"I don't know. I stopped counting after 35 but i think 50 they made me cum so much that i passed out due to pleasure. Believe me they don't like their queen one bit. One even tried to push a real sword into my pussy but the others stopped him.
Then they made me dance naked with a bottle of alcohol stuck up in my ass. These soldiers were pretty pent up, you know. They even feed me two buckets fully filled of their cum just like the one below me right now." The clone spoke as she tried to tempt anon in accepting the deal.
"Yeah, I think some cum just went inside your brain." Anon spoke.
Anon remained composed, unperturbed by her efforts. Activating his powerful skill, he focused his mesmerizing gaze on the clone.
His eyes glowed with purple hues, and the clone's eyes followed suit. However, to Anon's surprise, the attempt didn't succeed as he expected.
[Spell Failed. Opponent has a secured mind.] A notification appeared before Anon, signaling that the clone's mind was impervious to his hypnotic abilities.
"You fool! Your tricks won't work on me. My master has secured my mind to prevent anyone from extracting information. Haha," the clone taunted, revealing her master's cunning and her unwavering loyalty.
Anon's resolve only grew stronger. "Then we shall find another way to uncover your master's sinister plot. And mark my words, your delusional master will face the consequences of his actions. You may think your mind is impregnable, but your master cannot hide forever. Prepare yourself; your master's reign of terror ends here," he declared with an unwavering determination.
Anon stood up from his place and whipped out his cock from his pants.
"Woahh, that's one big boy. Should i fix my hymen for you to break it once again ?" The clone asked.
"Wait, you can do that ?" Anon asked.
"Oh yeah, my body is designed that way. I can make my breasts bigher too. If you want or i can grow a pussy instead of my mouth, look." The clone said as her mouth disappeared and a pussy appeared on her face.
"What the fuck ? I need to learn this cloning technique." Anon said as he went backside of the clone and rubbed his. Cock on her pussy.
"Hey buddy, look i don't feel any pain that function is turned off in my mind and- Uhhhhh" before the clone could've said anything else Anon rammed his whole cock inside her small pussy.
"Woahhhh... You are stretching my womb. Go slow, i can still feel pleasure." The clone spoke.
"Well that's all i wanted to know. You are nothing just a pocket pussy your master created to beat and fuck at anytime he wants without making you feel any pain. You will only feel pleasure even if you were killed right now, that's why i am going to unlock your your pain sensors again.
Fasten your seat belts, this ride is going to hurt girl." Anon warned as he started fucking the clone.