Novel Full Chapter 944: God of the Dead
The creature before Kaizen was no longer a horde of undead, but a grotesque and terrifying amalgamation of bodies intertwined to form an abomination of rotting flesh and broken bones. The abomination had several heads, all screaming in eternal agony, with empty eyes pulsing with a dark light, as if hell itself had been summoned to this swamp.
The mist around them seemed alive, writhing in response to the presence of this unholy being. Kaizen felt the heavy dampness on his skin, while the foul stench of decay and death permeated the air, making it hard to breathe. He looked up to the sky, but all he saw was a gray void where the sun seemed to have been swallowed by the darkness brought by Yan.
Alaric, a few steps away, was slowly recovering from the impact, sweat dripping down his forehead as he tried to conjure another spell. He looked at Kaizen, his lips pressed into a thin line, aware that the situation was hopeless.
“Kaizen…” Alaric began, his voice low and hoarse, “I don’t know how much longer I can hold out. His energy… it’s overwhelming.”
Kaizen nodded, his eyes fixed on the creature before him. Fear tried to creep into his mind, but he pushed it away with an almost ferocious force. The blade in his hand seemed to pulse with energy, as if reacting to the presence of this infernal creature. He knew he couldn’t lose his nerve now, not when Yan was so close to carrying out his nefarious plan.
“Alaric, I need you to cover me. I just need a few seconds… I’m going to try something,” Kaizen said, his voice firm but charged with the urgency of the moment.
The wizard did not hesitate. He raised his hands, and in one fluid motion, a series of arcane symbols began to glow around him. Alaric muttered words in an ancient language, his voice echoing in the swamp. Golden flames began to form around him, creating a temporary barrier of light and heat that deflected the Abomination’s attacks.
Kaizen took a deep breath, feeling the heat of Alaric’s flames warm his back as he glanced at Yan. The necromancer was at the center of the transformation, his eyes still glowing with the silver light that had intensified since the battle began. Yan was the epicenter of this chaos, the link between the world of the living and the realm of the dead.
“You think you can stop the inevitable, Kaizen?” Yan sneered, his voice now a distorted whisper that seemed to come from all directions at once. “Death is the end for everyone… but me… I am the exception. I will become something beyond this world.”
Kaizen didn’t answer right away. He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on the sensation emanating from his left hand, where a mark glowed with a faint bluish tint under his glove. The Ghost Mark, as he called it, was a gift, or perhaps a curse, he had received during one of his many dangerous missions. An ability he rarely used, but which now seemed to be his only hope.
Opening his eyes again, Kaizen felt the ethereal energy of the Ghost Mark manifest. A translucent aura began to envelop his hand, creating a ghostly silhouette around his fingers.
The Ghost Hand was not flesh and blood; it was a fragment of the other side, a direct link to the spirit world that he had learned to control at great cost.
Yan noticed the change in Kaizen’s posture, and for a brief moment, the necromancer’s confidence wavered.
“What do you want, Kaizen? Do you think a little magic can stop me?”
Kaizen did not answer. Instead, he stepped forward, his left hand outstretched, the Ghost Mark glowing with increasing intensity.
The undead abomination reacted violently, trying to crush Kaizen with its grotesque limbs. But the warrior was agile. He slipped beneath the creature’s claws, dodging its blows with the dexterity of a dancer at a deadly ball.
Alaric continued to cast spells, his flames keeping the abomination at bay for a few precious seconds.
“Now, Kaizen!” Alaric shouted, his voice strained with effort. “All or nothing!”
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Kaizen knew there was no time to waste. With a precise movement, he launched himself directly at Yan, who was partially shielded by the mass of twisted bodies that made up the abomination. Kaizen’s sword sliced through the remains, but the real blow came from his left hand.
The phantom hand broke through the barrier of bones and rotting flesh and went straight for Yan’s chest. Kaizen could feel the necromancer’s resistance, the strength he was using to maintain his connection to the dead, but the ghost mark had a mind of its own. It reached out, seeking Yan’s vital essence, the source of its power.
Yan screamed, not in physical pain, but in surprise and terror. He could feel Kaizen’s spiritual energy invading his body, trying to separate his soul from the realm of the dead that he controlled. The silver light in Yan’s eyes flickered, fading momentarily as he struggled to maintain control.
“No!” Yan roared, his voice a guttural cry of desperation. “I won’t let you!”
But it was too late. Kaizen’s phantom hand touched Yan’s heart, or what was left of it. A sensation of absolute cold ran through Kaizen’s body, almost making him flinch, but he kept his focus. He could feel Yan’s soul, distorted and corrupted, clinging desperately to the power it had accumulated.
Kaizen gritted his teeth and summoned all his willpower. “You are not a god, Yan. You are just a man… and you have reached your end.”
With these words, Kaizen activated the true power of the Ghost Mark. Spiritual energy exploded in a flash of bluish light, radiating from his hand and spreading throughout Yan’s body. The necromancer screamed in agony, his silver eyes fading as his connection to the world of the dead was brutally severed.
The abomination around them began to disintegrate, the bodies that formed it collapsing into piles of inert bones and rotting flesh. The swamp was filled with a terrible silence, broken only by the sound of Kaizen’s faltering footsteps as he moved away from Yan’s fallen body.
Kaizen glanced at the necromancer, who was now lying on the ground, the life rapidly draining from his blackened eyes. Yan tried to speak, but all he could manage was a faint sigh as his body began to disintegrate, turning to dust for the wind to carry away.
Alaric approached, exhausted but relieved. He placed a hand on Kaizen’s shoulder, his gaze full of respect and concern. “We made it… but just barely.”
Kaizen nodded, still feeling the cold in his left hand. He looked at the ghost mark, now fading, returning to its inactive state. “It was too close, Alaric. Yan was… he was at his limit. If he’d made it another second…”
“But he didn’t. You stopped him.”
Kaizen looked to the horizon, where the fog was beginning to clear, revealing the first signs of daylight for this swamp. The battle was over, but he knew the fight against the darkness would never truly end. Yan was just one of many who sought power at any cost, and as long as there were those willing to sacrifice everything for power, Kaizen knew that his mission would continue.
“Let’s go,” he said finally, sheathing his sword. “We have to get out of here.”
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