Rise of the Undead Legion

Dave didn’t have the time to think about how did Dog know that he needed to level up badly. He turned away from Drotha and the Monk and charged at the dark elves.

Bud turned to smoke the moment he saw Dave running toward him and left Dave all alone facing the elves.

Dave liked that best. This way he will get all the EXP. Dog, on the other hand, held his club-whip and stood guarding Dave—Not from the elves but from the Lycan and the Monk that were fighting lest that one of them decides to take out Dave first.

Dave swung down with his glaive at the nearest elf. This one was still looking for where the shadow ghoul had disappeared to, thus failing to see the incoming glaive swing.

The elf died in one hit.

Dog and bud had done an amazing job at lowering their hp, and they were all at one hit from death. The two Death Knights didn’t come out of it unscathed though. Their HP was in the red.

Dave turned to the second elf, another hit another kill and continued on with his slaughter. The elves ganged up on Dave. He didn’t have the luxury of taking even one hit form them. His armor was cracked, and his HP was at 11% thanks to his passive he had regained 10% of his HP. The damage was done due to Dortha’s sneaky attack on Dave while he was on Grumpy.

Dave dodged the elves’ attacks with finesse. He had to. Dave found himself concentrating best under pressure. The swings of swords and shooting arrows went past him as he dodged to the best of his ability. He was fast, strong, and delivered death with every attack.

One of the elves was behind Dave, his blind point. He had enough time to nock an arrow and shoot it at Dave’s head.

Dave didn’t feel the arrow closing in at all until he saw Singund riding on his undead war-boar, crashing through trees, bushes, and anything that stopped his way. Singund hurled his sword with explosive strength that it hummed as it flew.

The sword went past Dave’s head, and he heard the sound of metal hitting metal. Turning, Dave noticed the surprised archer still gazing at him. The elf rapidly nocked another arrow and aimed to take another shot at Dave.

"Like hell, you would," Dave cursed and hopped back from an incoming sword swing.

In his jumping motion, Dave waved his hand, summoning eight spectral skulls that flew toward the archer-elf.

The skills blew up, sending the elf flying and turning to mush, killing him.

Dave’s EXP bar rose slowly but surely, but there weren’t enough elves for him to level up. He needed to kill at least ten, and there were only three next to him.

"Lord! I brought more prey!" Singund howled in mad glee. Behind him, a dozen elf was running chasing him. Singund had done a nasty job at these poor elves. They were full of scars and bleeding, yet they still followed the undead orc that attacked them.

Dave grinned, more elves more exp, but also more risks to die. He didn’t want to visit the limbo, not after he was so close to leveling up and using Deadra’s prized weapon and shield.

Dave switched to his gauntlets and used [Awakened Dragon], the ability restored all of his fist-fighting skills cooldown. He then used [Advancing Dragon] and [Aura] A surge of fire coalesced around Dave like a lit torch in the depth of the night. He dashed forward like a bullet at the elves. Dave struck the first elf in a shoulder bash, smoldering him into humanoid charcoal.

Dave punched another elf and teleported and kicked another in [Dragon Kick]. From afar, the area looked like an inferno were several fire dragons coiled and danced together in a dance of flames.

The greenery caught fire, and the Drow Kingdom was set ablaze. The area around Dave turned hotter and hotter by the second, and any elf that was nearby suffered. The Drows were creatures of the night. They prospered in the underworld where there was no day. But Dave’s infernal aura was like a sun presenting itself to their world. Hot, blinding, and uncomfortable.

Not to mention deadly.

The elves wavered at the crazed bearded draugr’s assaults. They wanted to chase out the trespasser that broke two of their Nodes, and weakened them significantly. But killing this Draugr was difficult, and what frightened them the most were the two that fought against each other. The were-wolf and the monk were still at each other throats, like the fest Dave was throwing wasn’t worth their attention.

"Singund, hold the ones that you just brought for a while. Let me finish up here!" Dave said mid-combo. His fists twisting into a machine-gun of consecutive attacks at a poor elf. Every fist that landed on the elf’s body blasted out of his back a cone of fire.

Singund tore through the elf ranks with an unbridled zealot. He didn’t care for the damage he took; he was even pummeling one with his own fists at the elf because he had thrown his flamberge earlier.

Dave finished off the elves at his side and drank a health potion. He turned toward the elves Singund was facing and told him to back off. Dave wanted to have all the fun alone.

The orc had to fold back, disappointed that he couldn’t revel in carnage a bit more.

Dave struck down at the elves with unstoppable might. Two minutes later, he was down to the last elf. His HP in the deep red. He had taken a hit and was down to less than 0.5% of his HP. The last elf, the last 0.1% EXP needed for him to level up.

Dave dodged an incoming sword swing from the elf and used [Immortal Apparition] immediately teleporting behind the elf. He kicked at the back of the elf’s knee. The elf staggered to his knees and Dave swung down at him with his glaive taking out a lot of the elves HP

The elf rolled away and thrust his sword at Dave. The Draugr, grinned as he rapidly raised his foot and stomped down at the extended sword, the sword dug into the ground, staggering the elf and giving Dave the chance to retaliate through a perfectly executed [Mikiri-Counter].

Dave dove his glaive into the elf’s exposed neck, and with a twist, the elf’s eyes turned bland, and he fell to the ground limply.

A glowing light shone from around Dave. He had finally reached level 450.

Before Dave could enjoy the feeling, he had noticed that Dortha was howling in the distance. He was all alone, and the monk was nowhere to be found.

"LORD! Watch out!" Singund roared out.

Dave felt the hairs on his neck tingling, turning as fast as he could he saw the monk swinging down with his staff at Dave’s head.

Dave hastily stepped to the right, dodging the swing that cracked the ground and trembled the earth like an earthquake.

The monk pulled back his staff and swung at Dave again. Dave’s Tower shield was cracked, he couldn’t block this attack, but he now he had a new shield that he could use.

Dave instantly drew Deadra’s shield. A round shield that was big enough to cover Dave from shoulder to knee. The conditions to equip it were met, and Dave was able to hold it. He didn’t have the time to inspect the item as the swing was closing fast on Dave.

Dave held his shield up. The same motion needed to use [Block] for any other shield. However, a notification appeared in front of his eyes.

Somehow, Dave’s eyes rad through the notification before the staff touched the shield.

***

The Cursed Shield of Ajax does not possess the ability [Block].

***

Dave’s heart sank as he saw the incoming hit. If there was no [Block], he would die.

Then the staff struck at Dave’s shield, the impact shook him, but somehow didn’t damage him. Dave had closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t see what just happened. He looked over his shield to see something...unthinkable.

The shield was ’eating’ the staff. And the monk was desperately trying to pull his staf out.

Dave just noticed that the round shield was like sharp fangs locked onto each other, like the mouth of a dragon surrounded by a large metallic ring.

These fangs were now gripping at the staff, not letting it go.

The monk groaned and heaved up, pulling Dave up with the shield. The monk wanted to smash Dave down with the shield he held.

***

You have not chosen to Save [Basic Attack- Devine Staff-Smash].

[Reject] Ability will execute on its own!

***

Suddenly the metal fangs let go of the shield, and a glowing white aura shot out from it.

Dave noticed the monk smiling face change expression for a second as he tried to put his staff in front of him as if he was trying to defend himself from the white aura. But he was too slow.

The moment the white aura touched him, the monk was smashed into the ground as a mountain had crashed into him.

Dave fell to his feet. He didn’t understand what was going on. Did the shield do that?

The monk stood up, blood tinkling down his mouth.

"Thou had struck me with my own might, interesting. What a fine shield thou hast. It would be a shame if I took it!"

The monk stood up and went toward Dave.

Dave cringed back. He can’t win. The shield was damn op, and he didn’t expect it, but it wouldn’t save him. What pissed him off the most is that if he dies, he will be sent to limbo and will be downgraded a level. He won’t be able to use or inspect the shield until he leveled up.

"Oh, I still have the sword."

Dave took out Deedra’s sword, the Cursed blade of Duradel. This sword was nothing more than a big slab of wrought iron. Heavy, vicious and deadly. There was no finesse or dexterity applied in creating this weapon. It was made for one purpose, killing. And from its looks, this weapon was damn good at it. Several dents spread along the weapon’s blade. There were blemishes and scratches along the weapon. It had gone through innumerable amounts of battles.

The weapon was too heavy for Dave to wield appropriately, but he still swung the thing at the monk. The Ultra-Great-Sword was the same height as Dave, making the attack with the swing lack any sense of swordsmanship or delicacy. There was nothing but a thousand points of strength behind that attack. Yet, that was all it took for the monk to have his eyes open wide in panic and hold his staff to block the attack.

The sword smashed into the staff with strength enough to crack the weapon and at the same time make the divinity wobble in place. The sword has pushed the staf into the monk’s chest and managed to nick his robe. There was a faint scar on the monk’s chest. Trickling blood came out of the injury and stained the monk’s white robes.

-1HP

The monk groaned the attack hadn’t damaged him much. That 1HP was nothing compared to what the monk’s real HP Pool was. But this didn’t stop the monk from retreating. There was fear in those formerly calm eyes of his.

"The cursed sword of Duradel! That weapon belongs not to mortals!"

The sword, too heavy in Dave’s arm threatened to fall off his grip if he didn’t hold it hard enough. Dave dragged the sword, heaving, he pulled the weapon up and placed it on his shoulder.

Dave’s left was guarded with a shield large enough to cover all of his vitals, and on his right was a sword that made a demi-god fear.

"Do I look like a mortal to you?" Dave said in a grin.

The monk frowned, then said, "Smoke and mirrors! You can’t stand much longer still! Die!" the gentle monk turned livid and was about to charge at Dave.

Dave grumbled a curse under his breath, his bluff didn’t work, and now he was going under.

"Thank you for showing me those weapons in use. I thank you." A calm, familiar voice sounded next to Dave.

Dave turned, Deadra was back to his human form and gently smiling at Dave.

"They do not have the same effect as to what Deadra did to me, but your words, your challenge to a might far stronger than you have reminded me of my good old friend. For that, my claws are yours!"

"Silence old beast!" the monk swung down his staff at Dortha. But the abyssal knight didn’t give him a second glance. He waved his hand at the staf clashing against it — a bare humanoid hand against a rod wielded by a half-god. Yet surprisingly, Dortha’s hand smashed away the pol forcing the crack that Dave inflicted on it widen and the whole weapon to snap in two.

Dortha turned to face the monk and spoke, "You had fought me when I was acting merely on instinct, dare fight me now with all my sanity, and I shall promise you that today will be the last day you walk on this land."

The monk roared, long was the gentle and calm features. Now they were replaced with wrath. Yet it didn’t cloud his judgment. The monk knew that if the two of them fought for real it will be hard to decide the victor. What was most worrying was, even if he won, he would suffer greatly, but the undead will simply revive back to full power.

"Stones and Stars! Damnable undead!" the monk threw one last line of curses and disappeared, leaving Dortha, Dave, and his remaining Death knights in the Drow Kingdom.