Chapter 709: Futile

The undead Storm Tyrant broke into a charge.

Its heavy hammer dragged across the sharp sand, throwing up sparks and a long wake of dust.

Each stride cracked the ground, and the soul fire in its eye sockets burned fiercely.

Ahead of it, the Drowned Procession lumbered forward through the dark, their tattered robes swaying, their sealed urns clanging with every step.

At the same moment, the undead Horn Lizard King veered to the left, its cudgel raised over its shoulder, and the undead Scorpion Men King peeled off to the right.

Its gauntleted fists drawn back at its sides.

The Fallen were already streaming toward them, their chains whipping through the air, their green eyes blazing in the gloom.

The two undead Kings met them head-on, and the plain filled with the first sounds of battle.

Thoren stood at the mouth of the narrow passage and kept his eyes on the center.

Two Drowned Procession had stepped out ahead of the rest. They were taller than the undead Storm Tyrant by half a body, their stone-gray skin showing through the gaps in their robes.

Dark urns hung from their wrists and wrapped around their torsos in thick chains, swinging heavily as they walked.

They did not run.

They did not need to. Each step shook the earth, and the pressure rolling off them was enough to make the air feel thick.

The undead Storm Tyrant did not slow.

It leaped, clearing the last stretch in a single bound, and swung its hammer down at the nearest Drowned Procession’s head.

Boom!

The hammer struck the giant’s skull with a force that would have crushed a boulder. The head snapped to the side, and a spray of gray chips burst across the sand.

The Drowned Procession staggered half a step, and the urns on its chest rang like cracked bells.

It did not fall.

It turned its head slowly back, and a pair of dull eyes settled on the undead Storm Tyrant. Then its fist came up.

The motion was slow, so slow that it seemed almost lazy. But the shadow of that fist covered the undead Storm Tyrant’s entire upper body, and the wind pushed ahead of it like a wall.

The undead Storm Tyrant threw up its hammer and caught the blow across the shaft.

Bang!

The shockwave split the ground beneath its feet. Its knees bent, and its feet drove two deep trenches into the sand. The shaft of the hammer groaned, and a thin crack ran along it.

It held, but only barely.

The second Drowned Procession moved in from the side.

The undead Storm Tyrant twisted away from the first fist and brought the hammer around in a wide arc, slamming it into the second giant’s ribs.

Crunch!

Stone plates broke away from its torso and clattered to the ground. Fragments of the urn chain flew out in a shower of rusted links.

The Drowned Procession swayed, then answered with a back-handed swing that hit the undead Storm Tyrant across the shoulder.

Crack!

Armor plates shattered. Metal fragments spun away into the dark.

The undead Storm Tyrant was thrown sideways, rolling across the sand before it planted its hand and pushed itself back to its feet.

A long gash ran across its pauldron, and thin lines of dust leaked from the break.

It did not hesitate.

It charged again, swinging low this time at the first giant’s knee.

Bang!

The knee buckled, and the Drowned Procession dropped to one leg, its urns clashing together with a sound like thunder.

The undead Storm Tyrant raised its hammer overhead and brought it down on the exposed back.

Boom!

The giant’s spine cracked.

Its dark robes tore open, and dust poured from the wound. For a moment, Thoren thought it might fall.

Then the second Drowned Procession grabbed the undead Storm Tyrant by the helm.

A huge stone hand closed around its head and lifted it off the ground.

The undead Storm Tyrant swung its hammer at the arm, hitting it again and again, and each strike sent chips flying, but the fingers did not loosen.

The Drowned Procession swung it around and slammed it into the sand.

Bang!

The ground shook, and a ring of dust rolled outward. The undead Storm Tyrant’s armor split along its back and its soul fire guttered, then flared.

It rolled aside just as the first Drowned Procession’s fist came down.

Boom!

The pressure was relentless.

The two Drowned Procession moved in a slow, heavy rhythm, and every blow they threw carried enough force to break a wall.

The undead Storm Tyrant fought back with everything it had. It struck the first giant across the jaw, then the second in the chest, then spun and smashed the first one’s elbow.

Fragments of stone, rusted iron and chain flew everywhere. The air rang with the clang of urns and the crack of breaking armor.

Unfortunately, everything was futile.

Against the terrifying defense of the Drowned Procession, its attack means nothing.

Step by step, the two giants closed in on it.

The first swung from the left, and the second from the right, and the undead Storm Tyrant could only block one at a time.

A fist grazed its hip, and the plate tore away. Another slammed against its hammer and bent the haft.

A third clipped its knee, and its leg dragged in the sand. Its movements slowed. Its strikes lost their rhythm, and the yellowish glow of its soul fire wavered.

Thoren’s jaw tightened.

’How could this be?!’

With the current strength of the undead Storm Tyrant, he thought it would be able to hold his ground against the Drowned Procession but now, he realised he was mistaken.

Truly mistaken.

’Fuck!’ He cursed as his mind raced to find a solution. He knew inwardly, if this continued it was only a matter of time before his undead were defeated.

As for sending more undead, that would folly on his path. Each strike from the Drowned Procession was enough to defeat his undead vanguard without any fanfare.

The undead Storm Tyrant tried to retreat but the first Drowned Procession came after it. Its raised both arms high and brought them down together, a hammerblow of stone fists.

The undead Storm Tyrant threw its hammer up to block.

Bang!

The shaft split.

The impact drove it to its knees.

And in the same moment, the second giant swung its arm in a wide, sweeping arc, and the urns chained to its wrist whipped around like a flail.

Crash!

One of the urns slammed into the undead Storm Tyrant’s forearm and burst against its armor.

The sealed lid shattered.

A thick, pale substance gushed out, a hot wax gray with ash, and it splashed over the undead Storm Tyrant’s arm from the elbow to the wrist.

It spread at once, clinging to the metal, hardening almost as quickly as it touched. The arm jerked, and the joints locked.

It tried to lift it, but the wax had sealed a portion of it solid, like a cast of stone.

The undead Storm Tyrant’s soul fire flickered.

It tried to pull its arm free, but there was no time.

The first Drowned Procession had already stepped in, swinging its deadly stone fist. The fist slammed directly into the undead Storm Tyrant chest.

Boom!