Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

"Mister Pierre-Ornée, did you win?" Toby shouted, unaware of it as his ears were currently whistling from enduring the dreadful gusts of wind.

"I suppose I did, but I wouldn't call this a victory, my way of fighting can not reduce it to nothingness, nor am I able of completely extinguishing the heretical fire, there is probably a limit to the amount of damage it can endure, but it is not safe to bet on this" the copper knight explained, undying enemies were always a pain in the backside to the deal with, this on especially, he neither stood on the side of the living, nor on the side of the dead, it was something else.

'Syklon should be capable of slicing something until nothing remains, Rosemary might not be able to do much, this thing is affiliated with fire as well…' already thinking about a proper way to dispatch this nameless being, the group of four arrived to their ship, which had been pushed back a fair bit from the clash.

Wet and partially deafened, the three otherworlders were handling sea sickness a whole better now, still in shock at what had just happened.

"You wiped the floor with this guy, even though he clearly was final boss material!" Toby was the most vocal about his shock, after all, his special system had shown him another function amongst its repertoire just now, when the heretical being stepped out of that portal, with sheer poise that could make someone drool, a most familiar and threatening thing entered his sight.

He had since long made the link in between the system and the games he was used to playing back in his original world, although it certainly was much more volatile and automated in the way it functioned, the similarities were flagrant, especially when the way he viewed it was so orderly and full of numbers everywhere.

But now, his view could only be strengthened, as a whole boss health bar appeared when the being looked over in his direction.

Explaining this to Pierre-Ornée, who listened attentively, even though he wasn't very familiar with the system, he was amongst the people who could only see very little of it, and he was not of the few that prioritised it as a source of strength, but he still paid close attention to the youth's words, Toby seemed awfully giddy about it too.

"I don't understand all this final boss and health bar nonsense, but you could see what it was called? Most regard the system as greatly knowledgeable, so it must be reliable, what was it?" turning the ship's wheel whilst looking at the unwanted.

"Pretty damned cool I would say, the system called him: 'Nameless King, First Of The Hollows', does it ring any bell?"

"That's way too classy" William remarked, sitting behind, knees up to his chin.

"Well, I would like to have a title like this, something like: Ilona, The… Huh, this is harder than I thought…" the young woman rubbed her chin, wondering what could sound awesome but also be true.

"Nothing about this reminds me of anything or anyone, must be from the time of The Defiler" Pierre-Ornée looked to the side, casually walking up to the side of the ship, leaving the wheel by its lonesome.

Lifting his halberd, the three otherworlders were getting front seats to how the famed halbardier could somehow conjure up winds to strike, some believed that it was the work of a battle art, other that the warrior was actually a talented mage, or that he had an innate ability to control the air around him.

Just looking at him was not enough to gleam at the truth, but he certainly seemed capable of manifesting raging winds, with a thrust, he skewered an unseen horror of the depth that had believed itself slick when approaching the ship from below, only for a perfectly curved spike of air, to pierce through the water, its body and then unfurled like a flower right inside of its slippery flesh, turning it inside out.

Not acknowledging his kill, he walked back to his previous position.

"This nameless king character seems to be effectively unkillable, but I think he won't be making any movements for a little while, so don't worry kids, we are going to get you some training, surely, some defilers are still to be found on the continent" he told his trainees, head full of many thoughts, how to erase this unknown being, as well as the words he had heard the leader of the defilers spout before summoning this Nameless King.

'A kin of their lord and a soft glow… What could they have been talking about? Was this what led them to this sacrificial ritual?' the kin remark was the most worrying, it could mean someone that was simply related to The Heretic by blood, and that wouldn't be much of an issue by itself, but something told the copper knight that the leader had not meant it in that sort of way.

It was a shame that this guy just had to look over at them at the moment, otherwise, Pierre-Ornée would have chopped off his arms and prevented the entire thing, but alas, fate had decided to be a nasty lover today.

"Mmh, after we are done with your getting blood on your hands, you'll be getting special training from Syklon, you know, the little woman, she is the master of battle arts, and I am certain you would benefit from learning a few of those, and later in the year, Rosemary has agreed to come and teach you magic, you three better not make any remarks to either of them, but if you had to choose who to make a dire mistake with, make sure it is with Rosemary, I will only help pick up the pieces otherwise, and I will chastise you for staining the floor of the royal palace, understood?"

The three nodded, having already caught a glimpse of the utterly adorable swordmaster.

Just like most, they felt the pull of cuteness, it was a strong one, so much so that even when subordinates had their arms cut off and limbs swapped, they held no ire toward Syklon, and it had nothing to do with any art.

She was just born like this.

"It should be obvious, but when it comes to Syklon, make sure to be respectful, don't mention her height, or put light on how you feel about her appearance, just maintain a poker face and don't speak unless she asks you something, repeat that in your heads until we get back to the castle, alright? Your limbs are in the right spot already"

He began whistling.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om