Volk's fists crashed down like the hammering of titanic war drums, each slam against the Death Monarch's crumbling form echoing across the battlefield.
KABOOM!
The ground beneath him splintered and cracked, leaving jagged rifts from the sheer force of his blows.
He was unrelenting, ruthless, each strike more brutal than the last, obliterating every trace of the undead Monarch's once-terrifying presence.
Dust and shards of bone burst up from each impact, but Volk paid it no mind; he would reduce his enemy to nothing more than a memory.
"I, the Death Monarch will not fall!" the Death Monarch screamed in final defiance, his voice breaking with anguish and fury. "I will not be forgotten! I will not be buried! I—" he said again, but like earlier, he was flattened again to the ground.
"YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE VOLK DOWN?!"
Volk bellowed, his voice booming like a thunderstorm.
