Bro, I'm not an Undead!

Chapter 852 The Way of The Creed

The rumbles of battle taking place beyond the angry waves only grew worse with time, and the red shade above grew more intense.

The undead racing over and under the waters, seeking to destroy the ships, hadn't gained much of a foothold, however. In fact, half of them had already been wiped out by the forces of the Factions, the leaders of which were appraising the situation.

There were a lot of things to consider before rushing towards the mayhem ahead. The masked man was a formidable foe, clearly. Those that had doubted could only narrow their eyes and dig further doubts in the deep recesses of their minds.

At the very least, the army of undead set loose here, was some kind of devastating expression of strength that couldn't be taken lightly. Worse yet, this could one of many armies the masked necromancer was keeping in reverse.

If that alone wasn't enough to force calm calculation, then the Paladin Champion who was battling the masked man would at least force a momentary halt. The Purity guarded against all voyages past the Central Boundary.

The affiliation of the Factions was unlikely to garner a favourable perspective from the first ranked Paladin Champion, and to be fair most of the Faction leaders weren't interested in helping the Paladin Champion anyway.

Over Replicus' ship, Allora looked down and clicked her tongue.

"I thought he was coming up, what's he doing now?" she said, watching the figure of Grim hover over the ocean.

No one answered her.

As soon as Grim finished his battle, Replicus and Pherdanta had turned away. The former began searching for the unique variants of undead like the dimpled man all around.

It was certainly odd how they looked; how they felt to his sensory skill [Sorcery of Essence].

When the only close specimen had been within range, Replicus had noticed that indeed, the man had no traces of life energy whatsoever, but rather than being sustained by Undeath energy...

'That's odd. He seemed a bit like me. I'm not an undead, but in some way, my existence is still being dictated by Somanda,' Replicus thought.

If he had to guess, then it definitely had something to do with the soul. The masked man seemed very proficient in it, and unlike Replicus' previous evaluation of the masked man's skill at shaping the soul, Replicus added several more degrees of wariness where his likely encounter with the necromancer was concerned.

Given the variety the man seemed to have with his undead specimens, it also didn't bode well when Replicus saw that the abnormal undead among the many, somehow had the ability to command the regular undead to move as they willed too.

At this point, the Severed Union's numbers might truly make no difference.

"Hmm?" Replicus hummed when he spotted another undead with the same traits as the man with white scimitar.

Unlike the flock of its lesser kind rushing towards the thirty and some vessels only to be obliterated, it stood a distance away, getting washed by the salt water over and over again.

The man wore a thin, black vest on his chiselled body, and a tattered pair of pants. His greying hair and thick beard showed signs of complete neglect despite being soaked, which, when paired with his unfortunate choice of clothing, told Replicus that this enemy – if he was fully sentient like the rest of the abnormal undead – was either a powerful fanatic following Actuass, or monstrous combatant who had lived his past life without a care for luxury.

The man looked over fifty years of age, so the latter was likely, but...

OOOOOM!

The vast, chaotic waves were batted away the moment the man released his awful presence.

A quick expanding dome of it – like an illusory breeze, which smelled like sulphur – seemed to whip out as soon as he brought his hands together, as though about to make a solemn prayer.

Replicus' sockets flashed.

He did not like this one bit.

"An Incandescent Stager. And a nasty one at that..." he said.

...

The undead man in the vest raised his right hand over his head and slowly extended it forward as mana crackled like thunder around it. It appeared as a vicious white glow that rose up a great height intimidatingly.

The cold, chocolate brown hue in the man's eyes, which lit up to a bright hazel in the next moment, made what he said – and with a suspiciously loud, yet calm voice – all the more... daunting.

"This is my Creed. You are all in effective range."

...The undead man then balled his extended hand into a tight fist.

...!!!

Everyone who heard his voice also felt the furious build up in the man's mana, which happened in the same instance when they felt a blistering heat fire off with an ungodly blunt force behind their armour...

...Behind their defensive spells...

...Behind the protection of blessings...

An attack that was impossible to dodge and defend against blasted directed against their bodies; directly at the chest, where the heart should be!

The rambunctious, simultaneously blows overwhelmed the chorus of the ocean waves for one instance.

Dozens of glints of white lights depicted the numerous individuals taking the blows, and the result was... truly atrocious.

Pherdanta, Allora and Grim were hit especially hard; so hard that they became dark blurs that flew backward with more than a few traces of agony!

They weren't the only ones.

Tens of figures could be seen bursting from the ships of several Factions, their bodies torn and bloodied. There was no shortage of wails either, as it seemed more than a lot had perished with that one attack.

Most of the regular undead weren't spared either.

The ocean suddenly became a treacherous place for a completely different reason to the previous few!

...

"Hahahaha. It's already beginning, huh?" Replicus said with two of the sockets behind his helmet completely dimmed out.

His body was arched back from the blow, and a rough, exaggerated cloud of smoke was billowing from the inside of his armour, leaking through the gaps.

His hand was extended out behind him, and with keen sight one would be able to tell that this was the reason the figures of his Unlimited were paused in space, a distance from the ship.

Replicus couldn't show it, but his mood had turned up.

"Quite the blow. However..."

His sight fell on the enemy below.

It was not much, but the old bastard had a strip of blood falling from the corner of his mouth. He licked it off, and his brown eyes looked up, locking onto the Titan World Storm Penetrator.