[The First Day of Destruction][Inner Sanctum: The Eye of the Water God]
This undead... is absurd.
With every deflection of his spear, Clemence poured his very soul into the movement. He was the First Seat. He was the Shield of humanity. Yet, after only a few exchanges of blows, his arms were screaming.
His hands were numb. The vibrations from the impacts traveled up his skeletal structure, rattling his teeth.
Sweat, not the healthy perspiration of exertion, but the cold, oily sheen of terror—blinded him. It stung his eyes, blurring his vision, but he dared not blink. To blink was to die. To wipe his brow was to invite decapitation.
Clemence knew, with the cold certainty of a veteran, that every single strike from the Eternal Death was a killing blow.
There were no feints. No probing jabs. Every swing of those four obsidian arms was aimed at a vital point: the throat, the heart, the femoral artery, the eyes. It was a storm of violence, a black typhoon of edges that pressed in from all directions.
Amazing. Truly, terrifyingly amazing.
If his concentration slipped for a microsecond, if the angle of his spear shaft was off by a single degree, the daggers would slide past his guard and carve him open.
Already, his limbs and shoulders were covered in shallow lacerations. A strange, burning numbness was spreading from the cuts.
Poison.
Clemence gritted his teeth. The blades were coated in some form of high-tier necrotic venom. If he were a normal human, no, even if he were a Hero-class individual, he would already be convulsing on the floor, foaming at the mouth.
It was only his heritage as a God-kin and the divine resistances granted by his equipment, the Legacy of the Six, that kept him standing.
Clang! Skreee!
Another clash. The sound of metal on metal was deafening.
It hurts...!
It was heavy. Every blow felt like stopping a falling boulder. The kinetic energy transferred through the weapons was enough to pulverize stone.
Out of the corner of his eye, Clemence could see his companions Valerius, Emil, Zephira hesitating. They wanted to help, but the melee was too fast. The sheer pressure radiating from the duel acted as a physical barrier. If they stepped in carelessly, they would only get in his way or worse, be instantly butchered.
(This… this is what it means to fight an Apex Existence to the death!)
The daggers wove nets of silver light in the darkness. Clemence couldn't track them with his eyes. He relied entirely on the Danger Sense he had cultivated over years of abuse.
(If not for her... If not for the hellish training Zesshi put me through, I would have been dead ten times over by now.)
He remembered the sparring sessions with the Extra Seat. Antilene Heran Fouche. She would break his arms, crack his ribs, and humiliate him. He had thought those sessions were the pinnacle of combat.
He was wrong.
Compared to this silent, efficient murder machine, Zesshi's beatings were practically affectionate. Zesshi fought because she was bored; she wanted a mate, or a plaything. She left openings because she didn't want the game to end immediately.
But this Undead?
It had no desire. It had no ego. Not only that, but it simply wanted to process him into a corpse as efficiently as possible.
Ding! Ding! Clash!
The symphony of steel rang out under the moonlight.
Suddenly, the purple flames in the Eternal Death's eye sockets flared brighter.
"You are surprisingly durable. For a human."
The Undead spoke. And then, abruptly, the storm ceased.
The Eternal Death backstepped, sliding across the stone floor as if on ice, creating a ten-meter gap between them.
The pressure vanished instantly, leaving Clemence gasping for air. But relief did not come. Instead, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
(What? Why stop? Is it preparing a Skill? A Spell?)
A being of this level surely possessed trump cards far worse than simple swordplay. If it decides to use a special ability now...
Clemence forced his trembling legs to move. He stepped forward, raising his spear.
It took every ounce of willpower he possessed. His muscles screamed in protest. Steam actual mana steam rose from his overheated armor.
Fear.
That was the only emotion left.
In the past, Clemence had arrogantly claimed he sought a challenge. He had felt a thrill when he managed to graze Zesshi's cheek during training. He had mistaken that adrenaline for the warrior's spirit.
I was a child, he realized with bitter clarity. I was an ignorant, arrogant child.
There was no excitement here. There was no glory. Only the primal, suffocating terror of a prey animal staring into the eyes of a predator that could unmake it.
But I cannot freeze. I must disrupt its rhythm!
Clemence swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He channeled his mana into the Spear of the Weeping Raven.
"ROAAAAAR!!"
He unleashed a war cry, desperate to intimidate, desperate to convince himself he was still alive.
"Hmph. Naive, hmm?"
The Eternal Death began to mock him, but cut itself off. Its skull snapped to the side, looking past Clemence, toward the sacred pool.
At the same moment, Clemence saw it a blinding pillar of white light erupting from the water.
A distraction!
Clemence didn't look. He didn't waver.
"Listen, kid. When you fight a monster, you don't look at the scenery. You look at the throat. If you blink, you die."
Antilene's voice echoed in his memory.
I won't let you down, teacher.
Seizing the microsecond of the Undead's distraction, Clemence activated his strongest offensive Martial Art.
[Martial Art: Thunder-Piercing Void Strike]
Spears were piercing weapons, generally ineffective against the skeletal frames of the Undead. However, this technique was different. It imbued the weapon with the dual attributes of Lightning and Bludgeoning force.
A phantom serpent of blue electricity coiled around his spear. With a boom that shattered the sound barrier, Clemence thrust.
"Now! Support him!"
Valerius, the 6th Seat, had been waiting for this exact moment.
The "Gilded Bastion" roared, swinging his massive holy greatsword. He was ten meters away, but distance meant nothing to a warrior of his caliber.
"Flash, O Winds of the Heavens!"
[Martial Art: Severing Wind Slash]
Crack-crack-crack!
The stone pavement shattered as a crescent wave of vacuum and holy fire tore through the ground, converging on the Eternal Death from the flank.
It was a perfect pincer attack. The First Seat and the Sixth Seat, attacking in unison with their ultimate moves.
Swoosh.
The Eternal Death moved.
It didn't block. Or parry. It simply... went up.
With a movement too subtle to be called a jump, a mere flex of its toe bones, the creature shot five meters vertically into the air.
(Fast! But you can't dodge in mid-air!)
Clemence roared, his veins bulging. "Expand!!"
He twisted his wrists, redirecting the Thunder-Piercing Void Strike upward. The lightning arc bent, chasing the airborne target.
Zip.
(What?!)
Clemence's eyes widened in disbelief.
The Eternal Death kicked the empty air. A ripple of blue mana flared beneath its feet, and it changed direction instantly, zigzagging through the sky as if climbing an invisible staircase.
Aerial Agility? Or the Monk skill 'Cloud Step'?
BOOM!
Valerius's Severing Wind Slash missed its target, carving a deep, smoking trench into the ritual chamber.
"Are you blind?! You missed!" Emil screamed from the backline, his voice cracking with panic.
Clemence's lightning strike sizzled harmlessly into the night sky.
The Eternal Death somersaulted gracefully, landing on the railing of the upper balcony without a sound. It looked down at them, its posture relaxed, almost bored.
A heavy, crushing despair settled over Clemence's heart.
The combination attack had been flawless. The timing was perfect. And yet, the enemy hadn't even drawn a weapon to defend itself. It had simply... stepped out of the way.
(This is the Sorcerer King's strongest subordinate? I suspected the intelligence reports were exaggerating... but if anything, they underestimated it.)
Clemence's arms fell to his sides. He was panting heavily.
What do we do? We can't hit it. We can't tank it, we can't run.
"Hoh..."
The Eternal Death ignored the panting humans. Its gaze was fixed intently on the pool of water.
"That is unexpected," the Undead rasped, sounding genuinely intrigued. "I did not think you humans possessed the catalyst to summon a being of the Cherubim class. Impressive. Most impressive."
Clemence turned.
The light was blinding. Hovering above the center of the Eye of the Water God, suspended by wings of pure magical radiance, was a giant.
It was a monstrosity of holiness.
It possessed the head of a roaring lion, a body of polished living armor, and four magnificent wings that dripped with particles of light. In its hands, it held a massive standard, a flagstaff that doubled as a spear, topped with a banner made of white, holy fire.
The sheer density of good-aligned mana radiating from it was suffocating. It illuminated the night like a second sun, banishing the shadows the Eternal Death had brought.
The water in the pool boiled and frothed, reacting to the descent of the divine.
"Behold! This is the true authority of the Theocracy!"
Deputy High Priestess Shannon's voice rang out, amplified by magic, trembling with a mix of exhaustion and ecstatic religious fervor.
"His presence alone suppresses all evil! He is the Guardian of the Throne! The High Servant of the Gods!"
She raised her hands, pointing them at the mocking skeleton on the balcony.
"Strike him down! Cherubim Gatekeeper — The Lord of the Flag!"