Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

'My potential can grow! I can win, even if only by myself!' Abbanh spun his spear, kicking off the ground, countless lesser Derelictus-Mens's heads were sent spinning up in the air, causing the consorts to turn his attention to the spearman, away from the still living guards.

The consorts, despite coming from different tribes, demonstrated impressive cohesion, leaping into the air unnaturally, despite their great sizes, they were armed with bone daggers all the same as many of their lesser brethren, simply larger to fit in their hands, they swung with brutal strength mid-air, forcing Abbanh back as they isolated him from the rest of the battle.

Even when using all arts that could enhance his trained strength, he was thrown back with ease by a single one of them, things were looking grim, he knew it, even by taking the attention of a majority of the consorts, it didn't mean that his men were faring any better, he saw one get crushed in between the teeth of a queen, still alive before being turned into nothing more than light snack.

The rest were getting swarmed by countless of the monkey's, unable to resist the sheer numbers and fury animating them, their normally feeble bodies enhanced by the presence of their leaders, they butchered who they thought to be the source of their losses with extreme prejudice. Read the latest on empire

"I know you're here! Do you like the show you bastard?!" the elite growled, struggling to not be turned into a nameless sack of meat by the consorts, they didn't even attack all at once, instead opting to switch every dozen seconds, maintaining maximum pressure on Abbanh.

The living had to put his all into merely dodging and evading, there was no room for him to counter attack, every time he saw an occasion, another monster would simply step and prevent him from even landing a scratch.

His signature battle art couldn't even be used, he was managing to avoid getting damaged, but his body was put under immense strain.

'Ohrn would be able to fight back! His art would have been able to quell their numbers as well… This only happened because I am incapable of anything other than fighting, but I can't even do that right!' growing more and more distressed, a mad look started to settle in his eyes.

He looked up there, he could see the height of the mountain, the rugged cliff side was right above them all, he could not reach it with his art, but an idea appeared in his mind.

'I have the talent, I know I do!' stabbing his spear in the ground, the consorts felt like something was off and backed off, allowing him to push his two palms against each other, his spear in between them as he began to rub his hands together, like his spear was a branch and the ground a campfire awaiting sparks to ignite.

Countless sparks began to appear as he furiously ground the blade of his spear against the ground, the sparks spreading all around him, refusing to dissipate as they should, instead forming into a dome around him.

The monsters didn't dare to push through, instead opting to observe, keeping their distances for now as Abbanh began to cackle like a maniac, his laughter sounding like someone was pulling on his vocal cords.

"Oh, Ahah! Lady Syklon! Bear witness to my awakening, I have transcended my mediocrity, I am not useless!" swinging his spear around, the countless sparks spread all over the area, rising up into the air and forming into nails as wide as a man's torso.

The elite had just done it, he had successfully modified his battle art, evolving it to greater heights, right there and then, in just few moments, it was rough, it was imperfect, but it was more than enough to bring ruin upon the filthy monsters that thought they could assault the men of Lady Syklon!

'Guorzo was right, it is with our backs against the wall that we can truly grow stronger, watch me as I lay waste to these monkeys, I will slay the one who killed you, and the praise I'll receive shall also go to you!' striking his spear against the ground, the nails began to move down, closing in.

The consorts were about to pounce, but Abbanh was confident that his nails would pin them down before they could touch him, he felt so serene, was this how Lady Syklon felt? Was this the sensation of being overwhelmingly powerful?

'I don't dislike it in the least'

The elite closed his eyes, certain of imminent victory, some enemies, many of them would survive this attack, but right now, he could only see triumph, he could taste it in his mouth.

"Halt"

He released his guard, and a single, venomous word dripping with putrefaction reached him, the order took hold and the nails ceased for a brief instant, just enough for an arrow to pierce his unprotected throat.

A single drowned cough came out of him, the nails reverting into harmless sparks that readily dissipated into the air.

Abbanh's eyes landed on the distant figure of Loimos, but he could barely see what was in front of him, he could only recall his lady's advice once more.

"Don't grow arrogant"

The very first words she had spoken, she had shared only a few words of guidance, and he had somehow managed to fail in applying them.

He was a failure, and could only die apologising for his incompetence, the competent men he had taken with him were all brutally slaughtered by monsters, who were now dragging and hoarding their flesh, vying to gather as much for their tribes as possible before quickly slipping away, the queens wishing to avoid conflict between themselves.

Loimos kept his distance, he didn't pull anything against those five tribes, allowing them to take off with bodies and items he could have decayed, he wouldn't want to get grounded into the floor, he still had to pay a visit to Muho Chitai.

But he still took the time to gather the death force and what remained of the corpses beforehand, now, it was time to direct the wrath of some more tribes.