Chapter 782 The Griffiths Clan
Chapter 782 The Griffiths Clan
This new twist petrified the combatants, who finally realized that fighting a Necromancer was not without danger, even when victory seemed assured.
But just as the last particle of the Myrmidian was about to disintegrate, a life force blast burst forth from it and the bewildered Myrmidian reappeared unharmed at the site of his presumed death.
In a state of shock and disbelief beyond words, he read the notification he had received at the time of his resurrection with a heartfelt gratitude.
[Vitality Link lvl 7 activated: Leader Jake Wilderth has accepted your injuries.]
At the time of his death, his Oracle AI had overridden his authority and ignored his misplaced pride to enable this Faction Skill. The result was as plain as day. Jake had saved him.
But if Jake had accepted his injuries then... The Myrmidian and the other Myrtharian Nerds present gulped nervously.
*****
In the mansion, kilometers above, Jake's body cracked and he promptly assumed his true form, a Gold Myrtharian over six meters tall whose entire body resembled a sculpture of Adamantium.
Even in this form, he failed to stop the collapse of his cells. After all, the Myrmidian had been decayed and was not a weakling like Secyone and her sons. Although the process took longer, his body eventually burst apart.
Enya, Esya and Aisling got a fright when they saw him shatter but when they saw his expression before bursting they regained their composure.
From the moment he agreed to the transfer of wounds he had planned adequate countermeasures. A dozen Aether Suns shot into orbit around him as if they were planets and Jake was their star. The floor of the mansion and the rock beneath melted and the agonizing cells of his scattered body ravenously vacuumed up all that matter and energy.
In a short second, Jake, in his Spirit Body form, stitched all the pieces of his separated body back together with his telekinesis, and then the damaged cells split many times over in a flash. Less than three seconds later, an intact Jake reappeared in the vaporized mansion.
"What happened?" Enya asked with concern.
"The damage to Pelicles was more extensive than I imagined." Jake confessed, scratching his head in embarrassment.
He knew the names of all the Myrtharian Nerds. Not much of a surprise with his eidetic memory.
"Be careful from now on." Esya chided him with a reproving pout.
"I'll be more careful, I promise..."
This incident had at least one positive point. It made him fully aware of the danger his friends were facing down there. He was tempted to join them.
*****
In the vast underground hall, an Undead Hero who was once a Human Emperor and legendary Dragon Slayer of Quanoth, suddenly vanished from his position at Vhoskaud's right and teleported to Wyatt. His hand grew silver scales and claws before forming a fist aimed at the Vampire's abdomen.
Wyatt barely had time to brace himself when a steel pillar hundreds of feet long and five feet in diameter slammed him against the wall at his back that was already about to collapse. The fierce impact broke some of his ribs, but his opponent didn't give him time to let out a groan of pain.
The metal pillar suddenly snapped back like a stretched rubber band being released, but from the wrong side. The Undead Dragon Slayer's metal fist plowed into the Vampire Progenitor's stomach, causing him to vomit all his bile.
BANG!
The weakened wall collapsed for good and Wyatt was buried under thousands of tons of rubble. Immediately afterwards, a massive Blood Swipe powered only by Wyatt's Blood Energy shot out of the rubble and lashed out at the Undead Dragon Slayer, who barely defended himself by crossing his forearms covered in scales. Glaring sparks flew in all directions and the enemy slid hundreds of meters backwards, knocking out several of his comrades before finally deflecting the Blood Blade with a backhand.
A trickle of black blood flowed from his lacerated forearms, but the depth was only a few millimeters. This Undead's defense was top notch.
"This Undead is not a good match for a Vampire." Lysander commented as he stepped in front of the Dragon Slayer while shifting into a huge lion with a black mane that would make Mufasa look like a cub.
But just as Lysander was about to take over the fight where it was left off, Wyatt stopped him dead in his tracks by yanking hard on his tail.
"I don't need help. It's just a dumb Undead." The blond boy growled as he wiped the blood dripping from his lip with his thumb.
After witnessing the spirit of these Myrmidians, Wyatt felt for the first time the need to prove that he could do as well as them, if not better. An Ordeal earlier, Jake was inferior to him, but now even his subordinates were making him feel inferior.
He had to turn things around.
"I wanted to show my father that I don't need our atavistic powers to win my battles, but I guess I'll make an exception."
His eyes suddenly glowed red as he stared at the Undead Dragon Slayer. A crimson aura enveloped the Vampire and his opponent. With a devilish look on his face, he declared coldly,
"Death."
Wyatt, already pale as a ghost, fell to his knees, his heart shutting down and all his cells in a state of clinical death, but something entirely different happened to his opponent.
His corpse-like skin regained a healthy glow and his heart began to pump again. He had come back to life.
But could a living person withstand such a high density of Death Energy in his body? The answer was a resounding no.
Like the Myrmidian saved by Jake earlier, the Undead Dragon Slayer's flesh corroded almost immediately, and despite his monstrous stats his body disintegrated in seconds, returning helplessly to dust.
Once his opponent was completely annihilated, Wyatt stood up as if nothing had happened and said to Lysander with a sidelong glance,
"See ? I don't need anyone's help."
Seren and the other Vampire Nobles were stunned. In over a decade of following him, this was the first time they had seen him use his clan's atavistic magic. They had become so accustomed to it that they had come to believe that the reason he was at odds with his family was because he was born without the gift.
Creation and Negation. This was the ability of the Griffiths. In an area defined by the Vampire that he had to be included in, he would realize the words he spoke if they didn't already exist, but negate their existence if what they described was already there.
By uttering the word "Death", Wyatt had died, but his opponent had come back to life. Or at least, deprived of death he could only live. This magic obviously had its limits and its effects were temporary. Nonetheless, in the right hands, it could change the tide of a battle.
After Wyatt's spectacular victory, the Vampires, having regained their backbone, cheered loudly and threw themselves into the battle, ignoring their fear. The Myrmidians did not admit defeat either, and realizing that the remaining Death Knights and Undeads posed a real threat to them, they returned to what they do best: Warfare.
The former centurions, primipiles and legates that once made up Lucia's private army took control of their troops and like a well-oiled machine they formed up. Because of their planet's invasion by the Digestors, only the elite Myrmidians had survived. The proportion of centurions and legates was abnormally high, representing almost 10% of their number, but far from penalizing them, it only made them more terrifying.
Twelve Death Knight Generals and one Death Knight King, all that remained of the Death Knights' army, advanced valiantly, but each of them was ganged up on by a hundred berserk Myrmidians. Having witnessed what had happened to their comrade while attacking in close combat, a barrage of ranged attacks bombarded the remaining thirteen Death Knights.
And these were no minor arrows or spells. Each of these Myrmidians was a monster in his own right. The ink painter summoned his colossi again, the guitarist used sound blasts and air blades to rattle them, the wizards cast their mass destruction spells, while the marksmen aimed their Aether Guns and Bows at them.
A Myrmidian climbed onto the shoulders of one of his comrades and aimed a futuristic sniper at them and opened fire.
A blinding white laser shot out of the weapon and instantly formed a large hole in the chest of one of the Death Knight Generals. The blinding flash was extremely brief, but in a fleeting millisecond it had drilled a hole several kilometers deep in the wall opposite the Undead. One could not see the bottom of it.
This kind of feat was repeated hundreds of times in a matter of seconds, and a moment later all that remained was the Death Knight King and a handful of other Undeads captured by Vhoskaud making up his personal guard.
The victory was all but assured.