The only positive part so far was the fact that neither the Mizukai nor the Battalions were interfering. It was as if they had a code or order that they couldn't interfere with a Centurion's fight.
'I'll take anything I can get.' Nick thought as he slammed the hilt of his Fang against his side– anything to relieve the pain of his shoulder. He had to focus... just a little while longer.
There were Centurions and Battalions and Mizukai and the Nephilim Fallen to kill. Unless he wanted to die, there was no time to rest.
The Centurion closest to him laughed as he approached. "Puny human. Thy hurt thineself just to fight me?"
Laughter erupted amongst the other 3 Centurions as well, though they stayed behind as well. It appeared as though they followed a strict code of honor.
Nick had no honor, only a strong desire to become powerful so he could survive.
His [Fang of Finality] embedded itself into their necks so quickly they were still laughing as they choked on their blood. In one fluid motion, Nick had stabbed a Centurion, unequipped his Fang, and then re-equipped it as he swung it into the other Centurion's neck. With just one attack he had killed 2 of them.
Roaring in rage that their custom of 1v1 battles was disrespected so openly, both of the Centurions swung their axe at Nick. The Battalions and Mizukai were confused, feeling as though they should join the fight now. But they also knew the Centurions were fickled and powerful, and neither of the groups wanted to risk decapitation.
'How the hell can they swing so fast!!'
Despite the axes being 8 feet long with a 400-pound head of pure steel, the Dwarven Centurions swung them as though they were twigs.
It took everything Nick had to dodge their strikes, leaving him no opening to attack. And because of the Dwarven Smiths, each passing moment made the Centurions faster and faster.
The ground cried as the Centurions mercilessly bashed their axe into it. Old bones flung themselves from the earth with every strike.
They let loose a savage war cry born of pure vitriol, wishing for nothing more than for Nick to be amongst those bones. Humans were already on their kill list, but for one to so openly and abrasively disrespect their culture...
"Puny human dodge like coward! Have faith in thyself!"
Nick laughed at the savage roar, saying, "Hit me."
This only aggravated the Centurion more. His helmet turned red as he screamed again, whirling the axe in the air for one final, powerful strike that no human could ever dodge.
So, Nick didn't.
The axe flew through the air, killing a Battalion by cleaving him clean in half at the waist. Unable to yell anymore as his vocal cords were slashed, the Centurion merely coughed as Nick relished in the cold fear he could see through the small holes in its helmet.
This time, he didn't bother unequipping his Fang. Instead, he grabbed the dwarve's helmet, crushing it, as he yanked the Fang out of its neck.
Then he cast aside the garbage as he turned to the last of its kind.
Air itself sizzled from the sheer speed of the axe as it swung toward Nick. Unable to raise his guard in time, the axe connected cleanly and sliced right through his coating of armor. His skin tore before it suddenly became an impenetrable wall and forced the axe away from his body entirely.
[Durable activated]
[HP lost: 5]
[HP: 37/92]
Nick gasped for air, given only a second of reprieve by the Centurion. It was busy wondering how the human survived such an attack.
"Thy cheat even now? Thou would cheateth death?!"
'Cheat death...'
Yes, that's what he just did. After so much victory, he was caught in a moment of arrogance. If it wasn't for that skill, he'd be dead.
Nick's arms began shaking, his Fang barely staying in his grasp. His breath grew heavy again, but not due to adrenaline; rather, it was because of fear. The same fear that motivated him to get stronger – death.
Death, the thing Nick never wanted to experience again.
The dwarf roared triumphantly before swinging his axe with a wild fervor. He was going to see the human hacked to pieces, even if he had to swing an infinite amount of times!
Stupid humans always thought that they were superior. That because of their brains, they could rule all the races. But look what happens when they come onto the battlefield!
They quake in their boots!
They lower their weapons!
They cry for mercy!
The dwarf's laughter reverberated throughout Nick's head as he imagined the axe hitting him.
He imagined lying on the ground, bleeding out. Then the monsters would go and kill Juliana, Amelia, and Fynn. There would be no one to mourn any of them, and they'd be forgotten.
They'd be nothing, they'd be truly dead.
He'd seen this before. Well, not quite but close enough.
His dad had raised him alone, as his mother died in a car accident when he was only a few years old. Somehow, her family blamed his father so they shunned him.
It took him a few years to get back up on his feet, but by the time Nick turned 10 his father had a good job again. However, Nick's grandparents hated him, even if they denied it. They blamed him for his mother's death somehow.
This caused his father to break off all ties with them. When he died... Nick was the only one who showed up to his final resting place. Even then, his dad looked so confident. Like he had no doubt that Nick would live on. Because of that, his father died and yet still felt nothing but pride, knowing he made the right decision to raise his son even amongst all that hatred.
So who the hell would he be to die here and now? To feel fear?
A wild, incessant need to live coursed through Nick's blood. The emanating glow from his eyes stopped the Centurion in its tracks. Even though it wanted to move, to strike, it knew it couldn't.
The human had the eyes of a Progenitor. It needed to run. The Centurion... it had to run! The Smiths and Battalions and the stupid fish needed to protect it, throw their bodies in front of Nick and sacrifice themselves for him!
As Nick steeled his nerves and walked towards the last centurion, it quaked in its heavy armor that offered near invincibility.
It lowered its axe, a weapon that has terrorized armies for millennia.
It cried for mercy, tarnishing the legacy of a thousand Centurions before it.
Then its cry was silenced by the Emperor.
Before its body hit the ground, he heard Fynn scream.