Chapter 701: The Influence of a Single Undead.

The undead Storm Tyrant did not dodge.

It lowered its shoulder and took the chain against its armor, sparks bursting where the links struck, and it stepped forward through the blow.

It lifted the hammer above its head and brought it down in a crushing overhead swing.

Boom!

The second strike landed on the Fallen’s shoulder. Bone shattered, and the arm holding the anchor sagged.

The ground split beneath the Fallen’s legs, and one knee buckled. A dry, ugly groan escaped from deep within its chest.

The party stared, forgetting for a moment to breathe.

"It’s..." the Hunter whispered. "It’s pushing it back."

The Fallen tried to rise, but the undead Storm Tyrant gave it no time. It swung the hammer low from the side, with all the strength in its cracked frame.

Its aura rippled around the weapon like a powerful momentum.

Crash!

The third strike hit the Fallen squarely in the ribs.

The impact threw it across the plain and its body bounced over the stone and tumbled to a stop..

Chains clattered around it, and a cloud of dust rolled across the ground.

Behind it, the Lancer, the Hunter and the Berserker could only watch, their weapons hanging uselessly in their hands.

Just moments ago, they had been counting their last breaths. Now a single undead had forced one of the three Fallen back with three blows.

The shock held the party for only a heartbeat.

The Berserker was the first to move. He drew a ragged breath, wiped the blood from his eyes, and gripped his axe tighter.

The weight pressing on his chest had lifted, and something hot and stubborn rose in its place. He glanced at the undead Storm Tyrant standing in the middle of the clearing, then at the Fallen he was battling.

"Let’s finish this..."

His voice cracked across the plain, and the rest of the party jolted as if they had been struck.

Hope flickered in their faces.

It was small and fragile, but it was there, and it was enough to make their grips firm again.

The Lancer snapped out of her daze.

She spun her spear and sprinted toward the Berserker, her boots pounding across the gravel. The second Fallen had its arm raised to crush the Berserker.

Its chain was already whipping through the air.

"Down!"

She drove her spear into the chain and knocked it off its path. The chain sparked and the heavy iron slammed into the ground beside his boots.

"About time," the Berserker grunted, grinning through the blood.

Across the plain, the Wind Mage pushed herself to her feet. Her legs shook, and her mana was nearly gone, but she lifted her staff and dragged her exhausted body toward the Hunter.

The third Fallen had cornered him against a boulder, and his last arrows were scattering uselessly off its rusted skin. He saw her coming and shouted at her to stay back, but she shook her head.

"I’m not leaving you!"

A thin, trembling wind blade flew from her staff and struck the Fallen’s knee.

It barely scratched the rust, but it made the Fallen turn its head, and the Hunter ducked beneath a swinging chain and rolled free.

He scrambled up beside her, drew a short dagger from his belt, and braced.

The tension over the plain did not ease. It thickened, humming in the air like a drawn bowstring.

Chains cracked, steel rang, and every breath felt like it could be the last. But for the first time, the party was fighting with their backs straight.

In the center, the first Fallen was slowly rising to its feet.

One of its arms hung broken. Cracks ran across its chest, and the green glow in its sockets burned low and furious.

The undead Storm Tyrant did not give it the time.

It surged forward, its heavy hammer dragging a line of sparks across the stone

Clang!

The undead Storm Tyrant caught the chain in its free hand and ripped it from the Fallen’s grip.

The chain shrieked, and the Fallen was pulled forward off balance. The undead Storm Tyrant swung its hammer in a flat, brutal arc.

Crunch!

The head of the hammer slammed into the Fallen’s skull

. Gray bone burst apart, and the sockets that had glowed so brightly went dark. Fragments rained across the stone.

The Fallen’s headless body still lurched forward, its remaining arm swinging blindly, and the undead Storm Tyrant did not hesitate.

It stepped through the blow and dropped its hammer low.

Crack!

The first strike took the left leg at the knee, and the bone exploded into splinters. The second struck the right, and the Fallen’s body toppled sideways, its legs shattered beneath it.

It crashed to the ground and lay twitching.

The undead Storm Tyrant lifted its hammer once more and brought it down on the wreckage with a final, deafening bang.

Boom!

The rubble settled, and the dust drifted slowly away.

The undead Storm Tyrant stood over the remains, its eerily soul fire burning steadily, its power plain for everyone to see.

On the plain, the party stared in awe.

The undead Storm Tyrant turned its head toward the third Fallen.

The Hunter and the Wind Mage were pressed against the boulder, their breath ragged, their weapons almost useless.

The Fallen loomed over them with its chain raised, its green sockets burning down at the two young awakeners. It had not noticed the clearing behind it fall silent.

The undead Storm Tyrant did not hesitate.

It broke into a run.

Each stride cracked the stone and sent loose gravel skipping across the ground.

The undead Storm Tyrant closed the distance in a heartbeat and planted its foot on a low stone ridge. The rock shattered under its weight, and it launched itself into the air.

Its massive body rose over the plain.

It gripped its heavy hammer with both hands and drew it back behind its shoulder, the muscles in its arms knotting beneath the cracked armor.

The air changed.