Chapitre 95: Skeleton Disguise
"Damn it, where have Horus and the axe gone?" The area around the teleportation circle was deserted, and after searching for quite some time without spotting them, a chill of abandonment washed over me—I seemed to have been left behind on Skull Island.
How did it come to this?"
The ghost fleet attacking Skull Island approached from the southeast, while the teleportation circle lay to the northeast, away from the main assault direction of the fleet. Thus, for the moment, I was spared the immediate wrath of battle.
However, when the seven dense waves of death energy erupted from Skull Island, countless skeleton armies emerged from unknown corners and surged toward the shore, compelling me to draw forth my two Death Breaths to conceal myself.
The sixth-level Death Breath, a magical longsword for the undead, lightened the wielder's weight by sixty percent, allowing the slaying of the undead to absorb soul fire; slaying the living also absorbed soul fire; vanquishing evil beings granted the title of Undead Magic Swordsman.
The seventh-level Death Breath, also a magical longsword for the undead, lightened the wielder's weight by seventy percent, converting any slain target's energy into death power and automatically granting the title of Undead Lord.
The Death Breath I had seized from the skeletal magic swordsman was a tier below that of the skeletal lord, yet both swords shared a remarkable trait—they transformed the wielder into a high-ranking skeletal warrior and converted any internal energy into death power.
The undead of Skull Island typically engaged in mutual slaughter, harboring little hostility toward living beings like myself. However, the circumstances were evidently different now, and I sensed that adopting this guise would serve me well.
This was my first experience wielding both weapons simultaneously; as I grasped a Death Breath in each hand, I did not metamorphose into a skeletal magic swordsman, nor did I become a skeletal lord, nor a grotesque hybrid of both, but rather assumed an entirely new form.
Towering and fearsome, my body was encased in white bone armor, with dark flames flickering in my eye sockets and sharp bone spines protruding from my shoulders, resembling more an alien warrior than a mere skeletal fighter.
The nameless martial arts techniques and the Platinum Glory had all been transmuted into death power, enveloping my form in a shroud of death energy.
This aura was several times stronger than my normal state, rendering my body as light as a feather. While I had not ventured into many of Skull Island's forbidden areas, I believed I had explored a considerable portion of it.
I had never anticipated the vast number of undead hidden within this island—countless skeletal warriors, knights, and mages surged from the skies like a tidal wave toward the sea. Initially, I did not comprehend their intent in heading to the shore;
after all, no matter how numerous the skeletal army, they could not assault the ghost ships, as the ocean served as a barrier.
However, I soon discovered that the hidden undead in the boundless ocean were no less than those on the island itself. Enormous sea monsters, colossal lobsters and crabs that bore little distinction between their living and dead forms, along with skeletal sea serpents, surged upon the beach in relentless waves, forming a tumultuous tide akin to a frenzied army assaulting every coastline of Skull Island.
A particularly formidable skeletal mage, surrounded by six fiery orbs, flung them at the approaching skeletal sea creatures, incinerating all in proximity. Yet, he too was soon engulfed by the tide of sea monsters. Despite the continuous influx of skeletal troops from the island, the defensive lines were steadily eroding.
Among the ghost fleet was a pristine, ultra-luxurious yacht, encircled by a dozen armed vessels, from which pale ghostly flames coalesced and bombarded Skull Island. Each explosion of ghostly fire engulfed swathes of skeletal warriors, carrying their souls back to the ghost ship amid piercing wails.
Particularly striking were the oddly dressed passengers aboard the ghost ship, who appeared to be applauding as if at an opera, their shrill cheers echoing across the waters, sending shivers down the spine. It was clear that no living souls resided on the ghost ship.
Despite my instinctive desire to retreat in search of safety, the raging battle engulfing the island compelled my participation.
Thankfully, the sea monsters that had come ashore were evidently less agile. I managed to slay over a dozen of the immense ghost crabs, exuding a foul odor and large enough for seven or eight people to sit upon, before encountering a more formidable opponent.
If I were to describe this adversary, it resembled a drowned corpse, soaked in seawater for seventy or eighty years, armed only with a slender stiletto, yet moving with the grace of a specter… or rather, it was a specter indeed.
I had chosen a locale where the battle was less intense, and within a half-mile radius, it seemed we were the two strongest entities. After dispatching our respective foes, an inevitable clash ensued. I crossed my swords and engaged in a few exchanges with the ghostly swordsman, finding it quite taxing; my opponent's speed was astonishing, and his form flickered in and out of visibility, often reappearing behind me.
Had it not been for the rigorous training imparted by Horus, I would likely have faltered long ago. Speed had never been my forte;
I typically relied on the enhancements from my long knife, Ancient Moon, and the technique of Flying Flowers and Sweeping Leaves.
Now, however, I was unable to wield the less potent Ancient Moon and could not catch up to my opponent's swift movements with Flying Flowers and Sweeping Leaves.
The effect of lightening my weight could also enhance my speed, but I had yet to acclimate to this new alteration; using it recklessly could yield unpredictable consequences, potentially exposing me to fatal vulnerabilities. Clang!
Another sharp clash of blades resounded. Despite my considerable strength, my opponent's rapid swordplay generated significant impact, yielding little advantage for me. Although I managed to deflect the ghostly swordsman, my arm throbbed from the reverberation.
Moreover, this skeletal visage bore a malicious grin as he approached, believing he had the upper hand.
Concentrating my mental energy, I seized the fleeting opportunity to lock onto my opponent and delivered a forceful mental strike.
The ghostly swordsman's form momentarily faltered—such a prime opportunity was not to be squandered!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone