Deus Necros Chapter 704: Standoff

Grath moved like an avalanche given arms, carving a path through huts and panicked lizardn, not subtle, not careful, but effective.

Every swing made sothing collapse, door fras, weapon arms, ribs, whatever occupied the space where his axe wanted to be.

Ludwig turned his head to see a healthy-looking champion rushing toward them with armor that was not fully tightened on his body; he was in a hurry to put it on. The straps hung loose and crooked, the lizardman’s fingers fumbling at buckles as he ran, trying to beco "ready" while already too late. Little that it mattered, Ludwig ca to his side fast.

The champion raised his spear with both hands and went for a stabbing motion, too predictable. Ludwig sidestepped and swung his weapon hard.

For a second, he was aiming to tear the champion apart, but decided to swing for the spear, breaking it the mont it touched the ground. The shaft snapped with a dull crack, and the lizardman’s forward montum betrayed him; he’d committed his weight to a weapon that no longer existed.

Ludwig placed the tip of Durandal on the lizardman’s neck, "Surrender."

"Never!"

That was the last word the champion spoke.

Ludwig didn’t argue.

He flicked the sword from the blood and moved forward. The champion’s defiance wasn’t admirable; it was wasteful, and waste got people killed on Ludwig’s side. He wanted to preserve their numbers as much as he could, but there was no point in allowing those who won’t give up easily a chance to live.

"Grind them to dust!" Ludwig roared out, and the Orcs obliged. The order lit them up like fire in dry straw.

"FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" they all cheered as they rushed forward, bloody murder clear in their eyes as they wanted to give thanks to their god for allowing them the joy of battle.

The cheer rolled through the settlent and drowned out individual screams. Axes rose and fell. Spears snapped. Shields buckled.

The few lizardn who tried to form a wedge near the center of town were swallowed by brute enthusiasm, their "formation" collapsing into isolated fights they couldn’t win while sick and half-blinded by dawn.

More Lizardn fell, and the few that managed to group up to create a resistance force in the center of the town were no better.

They tried to set a periter, backs together, weapons angled outward, but every ti one of them retched or doubled over, the periter opened, and orcs poured into the gap like water finding a crack.

"Is that the sun?" Ludwig heard as he approached the grouped up lizardn.

Before he could even understand what was going on, three fireballs shot over his head and into the grouped up lizardn. The explosion that followed was accompanied by the sll of burnt flesh and screams of agony.

The blasts weren’t huge, Tower restrictions saw to that, but they were precise, tid to hit the densest cluster, turning "resistance" into panic and ash-blackened bodies. Kaiser was able to aim from that far with ease using a third-tier spell.

"They have a shaman!" another Lizardman said, "Kill it first!" he ordered, but there was no group capable of separating themselves from battle or splitting off the camp to reach Kaiser.

Any lizardman who tried to disengage had an orc on them imdiately, and the ones still healthy enough to think strategically were forced into survival instead.

Ludwig reached the bunch that refused to let down their weapons and began slaughtering anything that dared resist. He didn’t linger on each kill; he flowed through them, blade moving in short, efficient arcs that ended fights rather than prolonged them. Gale’s motions mimicked to perfection.

The Tyrant Blade was always supre when it ca to slaughtering monsters.

A spear thrust ca, he batted it aside and cut the wrist and the chest. A scimitar swung, he stepped inside it, and ended the body holding it. The sickness did half the work, the dawn did so of the rest, and Ludwig’s ruthlessness completed the equation.

"FOUND HER!" Grath said as he dragged a large lizard.

Looking up, from inside one of the largest Huts, Grath was walking out, dragging what Ludwig knew to be the ’Queen’ of the Lizardn.

He rembered that from his last ti fighting them. Every tribe had a queen, or at least a female chieftain. If killed, she’ll make every other champion beco a boss-level character, which is why Ludwig asked for her apprehension.

But looking at the blood stains, bruising, and broken scales, Grath had done a bit more than just capture. The queen’s body bounced in the mud as Grath dragged her by the tail, her limbs slack, jaw hanging slightly open, breath shallow enough to be missed if you weren’t watching closely.

"PROTECT THE MOTHER!" a lizardman howled.

And a couple of them rushed toward Grath, but Gale was already there, tearing apart anything and anyone who wanted to save their mother.

Oathcarver’s swings drew brutal boundaries, and anyone who crossed them stopped being a rescuer and beca a corpse. Gale didn’t need to guard Grath with finesse.

His presence alone was a wall.

Ludwig ignored the group that was trying to put out the fla and rushed ahead,

"Kill those that resist!" He ordered the few orcs that he left behind as he went up the slope toward Grath and Gale.

He didn’t waste ti "cleaning up" every pocket of struggle; he needed the center controlled. The queen was leverage. Leverage ended wars faster than killing.

Two champion lizardn noticed their ’queen’s’ capture and tried to run up to save her. But both Gale and Grath were too mighty for the champions; they were bigger than them and stronger and were easily able to kill anyone who tried to get too close.

The champions’ courage turned into desperation the mont they saw the queen being dragged.

Ludwig made it to their side and jumped on the back of the unconscious lizard.

The queen’s scales felt slick under his boots, and the sll of her blood rose sharp and earthy. With a flick of his wrist, he switched Durandal to its scythe form and placed it underneath the Mother’s neck.

The curved blade kissed the vulnerable line where scale thinned, and Ludwig leaned in just enough to make the threat real without needing to cut.

"EVERYONE! PUT DOWN YOUR ARMS, OR SHE WILL BE SLAIN!"