Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead
Chapter 857 - 857: Weakness Of The Flesh

Frenand basically needed no time whatsoever to recover from being slammed into the ground hard enough to send cracks running across the entire room, from a disadvantageous position, he was able to slam his elbow right into the living's temple, making Milo see blurry as he sent rolling across the floor, but even then, the wielder of gold caught himself, his fingers digging directly onto the rocky ground, and without any break in his motion, he ripped a boulder worth of stone from the ground and launched it at the undead.

"Please, trying to save mana, are we?" Frenand stopped the huge chunk of rock with only a single hand, not needing to put any effort into it, the architects that worked to create replicas of conquered lands before the arrival of the empire were no hacks, they took it very seriously, so naturally, the materials used in building these architectures were the very same used had been used to create the originals, and compared to what the undeads knew in their empire, such things were primitive.

The blocks of stone Frenand used to train were far tougher than this, so much so that they were hardly worth comparing, it would be like trying to liken a little lizard that hid in cracks to a mighty dragon.

Milo might as well have thrown foam at the undead, applying just a little bit of force, and the entire thing crumbled to dust, Frenand kicking off the ground, launching himself toward the ceiling, where he instantly pushed off against, slamming straight toward the living, who managed to only narrowly evade the attack by rolling away.

The living couldn't even fully stand back up afterward, raising his defences with one knee still on the ground as Frenand emerged from the dust risen by his attack, kicking at Milo, the Golden One seemed like he would be thrown back, but held on, pushing back against the undead, managing to force Frenand back, immediately standing up to attack.

Both combatants assumed very similar stances, Milo and Frenand fought in much the same manner to begin with, although both could definitely do more with their mana than reinforce their bodies, they stuck to what they could do best and would always default to using their arms and legs as their primary weapons.

With their arms raised up in front of their faces, their circled one another like two boxers in a ring, incredible spectacular fights were only for those of immense power, those who could punch through mountains in an instant, or those that could level an entire biome by the mere strength of their body, below that, even if one could suplex a whale, when they encountered an enemy of comparable power, they would natively end fighting in a manner nearly identical to those lesser than themselves.

The only difference being the power of the blows- And the speed at which they arrived.

Milo was the first to go on the offensive, going for a left hook, but Frenand weaved and evaded it, counter attacking with a gut punch, which the living gladly agreed to take for the opportunity to punch the corpse right in the face, resulting in bits of chainmail and blood to fly through the air as the two blows landed.

Milo did not care for whatever organs had been ruptured by that blow as the golden mana washed it all away right after, unfortunately, he wasn't the only one who could just shrug off direct hits, as the veil of chainmail repaired itself right before his eyes…

Right hook, left hook, straight punches, uppercuts, jabs…

Switching from a stance that favoured the right hand to left hand back and forth…

Soon enough, bits of broken armour and chainmail, as well as blood and teeth littered the floor, all damage seemed to be rendered null, but the proof of countless strikes landing true was right there.

Milo breathed heavily, this fight was not going his way, it might look like they were evenly matched, but the truth was that this style of combat naturally favoured the undead who could not only mend himself and his armour, but also suffered no backlash whatsoever for it, Frenand could take as many hits to the head as he wanted, but Milo, even if he could heal all damage perfectly and refresh himself, could not do that forever, regardless of amounts of mana or the quality of his healing method, his living body could not endure that much repeated trauma.

Moreover, he had already been low on mana to begin with, and right now, he really was starting to reach the bottom of the barrel, he had done good to recuperate mana during each and every occasion, but just like his body, his mana reserves were growing tired, the rate at which he could absorb mana and turn it into his own was turning abysmal.

If he attempted to give his body a rest, he would need to consume more mana to increase his defences, which he could not do.

If he attempted to give his mana a rest, he would need to endure damage without immediate healing, which he could not do.

He might have had a good shot at defeating Frenand had he been totally fresh when he got there, but no doubt, the undead would have played his cards differently if that had been the case.

'So that's a lieutenant, huh?' Milo had learned a lot about how the ranks of the dead worked, both back in Tamaris, and thanks to Toby's analysis, so he was well aware that in the empire, the lieutenants were certainly elites amongst elites, but they were still just soldiers at the end of the day, a lieutenant worked for the vanguard, being a lieutenant wasn't event he highest position below Loimos himself too, as in between the two, there were apparently the right and left hand of Loimos, which had been mentioned as the two great leaders of the vanguard and of the Loimoisian knights.

Further above, there were the minor lords and the gravelords too… That went without mentioning countless powerful undeads that existed, and might just be even more powerful than the lieutenants, but simply did not work in the vanguard.

"Fucking hell…" Milo cursed in his beard, how could it be? How could it be that the undead empire not only had a massive, insurmountable advantage in numbers, but also in individual strength as well? Their knowledge was boundless, their advancements were without stop, they occupied the top of every way of power, of every form of craftsmanship, they had land and sea at their disposal, their population only kept on increasing…

How was this even possible?

Milo stomped the ground after being sent back by a punch straight to the face, his broken nose did not heal, he chose to no longer use his mana for that.

Frenand was about to strike again, but stood his ground instead as a golden light surged from Milo.

"Here it is, the trump card you used against the general back then! I thought you had forgotten about it to be honest"

"Honestly? I don't even have a clue how this thing works" Milo hadn't been counting on that, but it was a welcome surprise.

In response, Frenand let his mana reinforcement reach its highest level.

'Vertex?'

"I am but an untalented mana user, so excuse the lack of anything better" Frenand seemed to truly believe that this wasn't impressive, but Milo grew tense, he himself could only achieve vertex with regular mana, but his golden mana naturally surpassed even that all around, if he could do a vertex with his golden element, it would be great but… It just didn't work as simply as it did with basic mana.

With what sounded like two simultaneous claps of thunder, Milo and Frenand launched themselves forward.

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