Chapter 384 The Song Ends
Anger overwhelmed the vague uneasiness, and the desire for challenge conquered Angras's hesitation.
Just when the great demon could no longer suppress his agonizing wait and wanted to start the battle first, the false god dropped his hammer.
It is like a weak mortal in ragged clothes facing the harsh winter, or like a weak animal being hunted by an irresistible predator.
The snow was swirling in the sky, singing the bellicosity and cruelty of the Lord of Winter.
The suffocating cold tortured the demon's mind, and the Undead Supreme, who was even more unbearable than it, was already screaming in agony.
The scattered crystals suddenly became chaotic, and the dense falling snow was enough to block the sight of the gods.
The cold current brought by the strong wind instantly froze the demons and undead, and the helpless roar of the mortal champion was also contained in the ice sculpture.
The silver fire engulfed the three challengers in the ice sculpture. There was no physical collision, nor the axes and hammers fighting as the devil had imagined. The extreme coldness cooled their will to fight, and even the bravest one became timid.
The wind and snow became rampant again, and the invisible force belatedly smashed the ice sculpture. Angras flew into the sky and saw the servants of the Blood God flying farther away.
The Undead Supreme was caught by the demon's subconscious axe, and the two of them fell to the end of the forest in the north, leaving deep dents on the ground.
The Axe of Terror was stuck between the Necromancer's bones. Angrath wanted to pull it out, but found that he didn't even have the strength to pull out the battle axe.
There were no scars on its flesh, and its body was still intact, but its will to fight had been extinguished. Its essence trembled and wanted to escape from the mortal world, but leaving was as difficult as arriving.
The noisy winter snow slowly calmed down. When the shadow in the wind and snow was discovered to have disappeared, even the devil felt weak and grateful for having survived a calamity.
Matter compresses Lynch's perception and limits his essence.
It's like a killer whale put in an oceanarium, or a bird trapped in a cage.
The lizard man was tormented by the unbearable weakness and pain, and only when the wind of magic suddenly blew could he feel some relief.
He wanted to fly over the earth as he did in the past, but his running would often stop before it lasted long because he was no longer free.
The closer he got to the empire, the less pressure he felt.
Rampant magic distorts reality, and the fragile laws of physics become building blocks that can be moved at will.
It was as if the cage had been expanded several times. Although the weakness still existed, Lynch now had the basis for normal activities.
He stared at the Necromancer in the distance and approached the enemy step by step.
Nagash managed to survive the weakness, but found that it was no longer able to maintain the huge army of undead.
The hope of a comeback has disappeared, and here comes the lucky one. Maybe Nagash is not so easy to defeat, but as long as it can be delayed for a few days and until the greenskins completely occupy Sylvania, it will be no different from ordinary people.
The wizard glanced at the silent demon. If it weren't for this idiot causing trouble, it would have already fled to the south.
Now it's all gone.
It had a perfect plan, and it executed it almost perfectly, but because of the interference of some ignorant people, it failed.
This certainly cannot be blamed on it, Nagash is happy to find a target for his hatred.
The shallow mortal knight finally found the location of the great necromancer, but when the tired Pegasus brought those arrogant and backward barbarians into Nagash's sight, he was not even interested in taking another look.
Regret will not last, because death is not the end for Nagash, it has infinite time, and it will succeed sooner or later.
The scorching gaze baked the body of the Undead Supreme. Nagash struggled to maintain his last bit of dignity, sneering and looking down on the lucky man.
Yes, it will devour the gods sooner or later, and now it is just another stepping stone.
The flames moved unnaturally in the air, as if the current of air had been replaced by living fire.
Huge cracks appeared in the earth, revealing boiling magma.
But neither the necromancer nor the demon would care about such a little trick.
Nagash had already touched upon the essence of magic, the true meaning of Ithil. He was not a fool who could not even grasp the wind of magic.
Magic is just the leftovers from the gods' play, uncontrollable leftovers.
The wind of fire condensed into substance, reflecting the anger of light and shadow.
Just by looking at it, the restless magic began to try to ignite Nagash.
Perhaps the Bloodthirster has also suffered, but as we all know, its master hates magic, and the Bloodthirster itself is distorting reality, but its direction is opposite to that of the mage.
The ridiculous vision was enough to scare ignorant mortals, but in front of two beings who also transcended the mundane, it was just a brilliant light and fire.
Nagash calmly took out a new sword, and after the demon pounced fiercely on the lizard man, it followed.
A bolt of lightning instantly parted the dark clouds and stopped it in its tracks, like a double-tailed comet close to the ground. The thunder that shook the heavens and the earth gave Nagash a bad premonition. It was clear that it had already made preparations for the worst.
The dark clouds dissipated in an instant, revealing the brightness that should be there at noon.
Unprecedented fear made Nagash look around in panic, trying to find the figure that only existed in the depths of his nightmare.
The griffin flew past, flashing ancient dwarven runes, and pointed down at Nagash's head. When Gaal-Maraz landed on Nagash, it was blasted into the air again.
The headless body fell to the ground like a rag doll, leaving behind only an unwilling cry and a curse that was not uttered in time.
Lynch fought the big demon head-on with his strength alone. The weak demon was defeated by the lizard man. When a figure fell from the sky and smashed the demon's spine with a war hammer, everything was over.
At least it's over for now.
Lynch quietly looked at the phantom in the human hammer, then calmly withdrew his gaze, endured the torment when the magic wind suddenly fell, and continued to move towards the south.
"Stop! My friend, the orcs are about to retreat."
This is a direct dialogue within the soul. It is a voice full of hope, a voice that represents order and protection. It is the voice of the empire.
Lynch doesn't think the greenskins know when to stop and the fight will continue.
"Warrior, take a break! You have done enough, leave the rest to me."
"Who are you to speak to me? The emperor of mankind."
"I am Sigmar, founder of the empire, slayer of orcs."
That's really great. The guardian of the empire who was trapped in the wind of heaven has finally come to solve the mess that he should have handled.
It seems that Nagash did at least one good thing - it released Sigmar who was trapped by Tzeentch, although this was most likely something the Necromancer did not expect. It should not have tried to control the wind of death and shake the "Great Vortex".
But Lynch still has to go south, he has to collect some debts from the Castaing family.
(End of this chapter)
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