Iron Blooded Hound

Chapter 91 - 91: Undying Kings

Chapter 91: Chapter 91: Undying Kings

Goo Wook... Goo Screwball...

The orangutan cadavers started to move.

Despite having recently died, their skin was already mushy and rotting, revealing empty bones here and there.

Indeed, all living beings come from nature and return to it, meaning their bodies belong to the natural world.

Returning to nature after life is a great fortune, a recognition of being part of the ecosystem.

However.

There are some creatures who, after their lives end and their bodies should return to nature, do not.

The undead.

They defy nature's cycle, retaining their bodies instead of surrendering them.

They're like tenants in a house whose lease has expired.

Nature, in response, takes action to reclaim these bodies.

Following nature's law, everything returns to the earth.

To reclaim bodies from the undead, nature accelerates the decay of their tissue, leaving them with only rotting flesh, foul-smelling guts, and hollow bones.

Hence, most undead are either decaying or skeletal.

...But.

Occasionally, ghosts with noble abilities in life manage to resist nature's laws with greater resilience.

They defy nature with bodies and strength far less damaged than when they were alive.

Woodchuck! Woodchuck! Woodchuck! Woodchuck!

Such were the undead now emerging from the brave one's grave.

"...This is incredible!"

Aiyen's mouth dropped open.

Emerging from the stone and soil tombs in the valley were skeletons, gaunt and desiccated.

Clad in masks made of dark jaguar pelts, their eyes gleamed with the dark void of skeletons.

Long ago, they were great heroes and leaders of Balak.

Carrying bows, spears, swords, axes... and their masked kin, the undead rose to the surface and converged this way as one.

<Death Knight>

Danger Rating: A ~ S

Size: ?

Encountered in: ?

-Named 'Death Knight'.

A corrupted and transformed being who once touched the heights of the living, their dark mana drawn from their souls and bodies is held in reserve until every muscle and vein in their bodies ruptures.

Most lose their sanity and spew empty malice and mindless rage.

However, occasionally there are Death Knights with intelligence, but it is said that there are only seven instances in human history where such beings have appeared.

Typically, Death Knights are wild and aggressive, often clad in thick, heavy armor to compensate.

However, the resurrected ancestors of Balak were approaching with the speed of the wind, wearing nothing but flowing robes over the dark currents.

Noticing the seething hatred Ahheman was exuding.

Then, Boss Aquila spoke.

"All, prepare for battle!"

As the words left him, Aiyen drew her bow and fired.

Aiming for the gold, she fought on the ground.

Yet, one of the Death Knights, sprinting at breakneck speed, loosed an arrow before she could.

Puff, puff, puff!

Bolts of immense power flew out and began to rain down on Ahheman.

"Heh heh! Die, all! All shall perish!"

Taking cover behind the Death Knights, Ahheman was rapidly aging.

He had extended his life force beyond its limits, controlling the Death Knights.

Soon, the skeletal, nameless Death Knights clashed with Balak's heroes, wielding swords and spears.

The heroes of Balak faced the past and the present simultaneously.

The warriors of the Old Era and the champions of the New Era squared off against each other.

"The time has come to teach the heroes of the past a lesson. How formidable the youths are nowadays!"

Aiyen fired the first arrow.

Ping!

Her arrow was imbued with a potent silver aura.

Yet, astonishingly, the Death Knight before her caught the arrow with his hand.

...Crack!

The arrow was stopped, but there was no way he could have caught it with his bare hands.

The Death Knight shook his head as he watched the hand that caught the arrow turn to dust.

Perhaps when he was alive, he might have easily done so.

But now, weakened by decay, he would never have been able to cope with his crumbling body.

Then.

Boom!

The Death Knight behind him swung his sword.

A swift blow shot out, cutting through everything in its path.

The speed was unexpectedly fast, catching Aiyen off guard.

...Boom!

Someone intercepted the Death Knight's blow. It was Vikir.

And now.

Vikir extended his hands towards the two charging Death Knights.

In an instant, a white powder flew from Vikir's hands and landed on the faces of the Death Knights.

Chiiiit!

Smoke billowed out, accompanied by the sound of burning leather.

The Death Knights grimaced in pain and stepped back.

"Watch out. Each one is a named demon."

Aiyen chuckled at Vikir's suggestion.

She bent at the waist and stuck her butt out as far as it would go, tapping Vikir's thigh.

"Well, you are the only man I can trust with my back."

"...."

"Oh, of course, I'm asking you to cover my back in battle. I trust you don't misunderstand."

Aiyen found amusement in Vikir's reaction, even in such a dire moment.

But, in all fairness, this was not the time for playful teasing.

The Death Knights were advancing, their attacks growing fiercer and sharper.

Aiyen's demeanor hardened.

"Vikir, how did you do that?"

He was referring to how Vikir had driven away two Death Knights moments ago.

Vikir answered easily.

"Salt. The undead are vulnerable to salt."

He was right. There could be no better way to cleanse the unholy than with salt.

Vikir grabbed a handful of salt, which lay like white sand on the banks of a flowing stream outside the battlefield of the Iliad, and sprinkled it on the Death Knight.

Soon, the white salt burned black and made a loud snapping sound.

The Death Knight leaped back as the salt touched his body, and that was just in time to counterattack.

...Puff!

Vikir caught the Death Knight off guard as he leaped from the salt, swiftly piercing his temple with his weapon.

Then the Balak heroes, who had been struggling to contain the Death Knights, found a way through.

"Salt! Salt!"

"Everyone, follow Vikir's lead!"

"It's true! It's working!"

However, the Balak champions were hesitant to harm their ancestors.

They sprinkled the stream's salts with minimal contact, aiming to avoid hand-to-hand combat while still honoring their forebears.

And as Ahheman's Defining Moment reached its climax, the Death Knights began to be taken out one by one.

Boss Aquila sneered.

"Your ancestors were not meant to be controlled by the Necrons."

His taunt was directed at the dying Ahheman.

The turning point.

"Kuhhhhh... Yes, strength over quantity."

Ahheman chuckled ominously.

He smeared his face with his own blood, tracing intricate barriers of mantra. He began to draw upon his life force, stretching it beyond life itself.

Even his soul would suffer in agony for ages in the afterlife.

But still, Ahheman had to use this forbidden spell.

...Crash, crash, crash, crash, crash, crash!

One by one, the Death Knights around him began to disintegrate

.

But despite this, Ahheman kept his eyes closed and continued to mutter something.

"...I found it! I found it! I found it! He lay in the depths of the abyss, alone and unburied! Oh, yes, He truly was there!"

Dark mana whirled violently around him.

Various warriors of Balak could barely maintain their balance amidst it all.

"...The time has come to end it all."

The night fox, the tribal leader, Aquilaman, stood tall and glared at Ahheman.

Then, her arrow struck him in the forehead.

Pow!

A single silver arrow shot through the dark storm.

It seemed destined to blow a gaping hole in his skull in moments.

But.

Kwagik-.

Regrettably, Aquila's arrow stopped midway.

Aquila's arrow, the unstoppable force in the current depth, had been caught by another's hand.

"...!?"

All of Balak's warriors looked up in astonishment.

It was a thin man who caught the arrow with his bare hands.

A man clad in a tattered mask.

His face was skeletal and rugged, lips missing, exposing his gums and teeth.

The mask fluttered in the breeze, woven in a style from ages past.

Thick sturdy bones, towering stature, and the ability to catch Aquila's arrows with his bare hands.

No one had ever guessed the identity of this long-ago ancestor.

Except one. Apart from Aquila.

"...!"

Aquila turned her trembling gaze to the undead sphere before her.

Since childhood, she had heard the legends of all the great tribal leaders and heroes of Balak.

She had always believed she could match them.

Blessed potential, limitless possibilities, a once-in-a-century talent.

Aquila was widely considered one of the most capable tribal leaders ever, so she had never hesitated to compare herself to the great champions of old.

...Except for one person.

A hero who had single-handedly declared war on the Empire, who had won surrender pledges, who had subjugated all the tribes of the Depth, who had led Balak to its greatest heights, and despite all these immense accomplishments, even the arrogant Aquila could truly admire.

The timeless legend of Balak, a spiritual being.

Adonai, the greatest bowman since history began to be written.

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