Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode-Chapter 600: Call To The Sword

The caster’s eyes sharpened as she observed Clyde’s movements. Her mind rapidly pieced together a strategy.

She could feel it clearly now. His power was overwhelming, but it was not stable. The lightning surging through him was too excessive, too constant. He was burning through his own energy without restraint.

That was his weakness.

She adjusted her stance and began forming a different kind of spell. The magic around her hands shifted in nature, no longer violent like her fire attacks but subtle and insidious.

Threads of dim light intertwined between her fingers to form a condensed sphere that pulsed omonously.

She waited for the exact moment when Clyde committed fully to his next clash.

Then she released it. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

The spell shot forward silently, slipping through the chaos of the battlefield without drawing attention.

It moved past the crashing blows and exploding lightning, weaving between debris and shockwaves until it reached its target.

Clyde did not see it.

The moment it touched him, the effect activated.

His body faltered.

The lightning around him flickered unevenly after losing some of its intensity. A sudden heaviness dragged at his limbs as if invisible chains had been wrapped around his body. His movements slowed.

The shield-bearer saw an opportunity.

With a roar, he lunged forward. His massive shield came crashing toward Clyde with all his strength behind it, enhanced by the momentum he had been waiting to unleash.

Clyde raised his sword, but he was a moment too slow.

The shield slammed into him.

The impact exploded across the battlefield, sending a violent shockwave through the rubble.

Clyde was thrown backward, his body tearing through broken concrete and scattering debris as he skidded across the ground before crashing to a stop.

Dust rose around him.

On the other side, Mina caught a glimpse of it.

Her eyes widened for a split second as she saw Clyde being sent flying. Fear rose instinctively inside her heart. But it didn’t stay there for too long.

She tightened her grip on her daggers and forced her focus back in front of her. She knew him. She had seen what he was capable of. If anyone could recover from something like that, it was him.

He would be fine.

Right now, she has her own battle to win.

She stepped in again, her blades flashing as she resumed her assault on the spear-wielder without hesitation.

Meanwhile, Clyde lay still for a brief moment amidst the rubble.

Pain surged through his body again. The impact had rattled him and the strange weakening effect still clung to him. His limbs felt heavier, his control over the lightning less precise.

His thoughts blurred for a second.

Then something clicked.

He realized that he had been using [Pure Lightning] without stopping.

Ever since it returned, he had kept it active continuously, pouring power into every movement without restraint. The exhilaration had blinded him. He had been too caught up in the feeling of having his strength back.

And now it was draining him.

"Damn it..." he muttered under his breath.

His eyes narrowed as clarity returned.

"I’m still using this body..."

This was not his original body. It couldn’t handle the same output. Its magic reserves were far lower than what he was used to.

He had made a mistake.

But the battle was still ongoing. He didn’t have the luxury to stop.

His grip tightened around the Demonic Sword.

Then he shifted his focus inward and reached out to it.

He called it and the sword responded.

The moment his intent touched it, the weapon reacted to the overwhelming presence of his soul.

It was not something it could ignore. A normal wielder would never receive such a response, but Clyde was different. The weight of his real existence forced compliance.

The Demonic Sword answered.

A pale orange mist began to seep out from the blade. Spreading across his hand and then enveloping his entire body. It moved like smoke, thin but also dense with energy, wrapping around him in layers.

The effect was immediate.

Warmth spread through his body as his depleted magic power began to recover. The draining sensation eased. The heaviness faded slightly.

The lightning around him stabilized again and flickering more steadily as the storm inside him regained strength.

Clyde slowly pushed himself up from the rubble. The orange mist and white-blue lightning intertwined around his figure.

His eyes lifted again toward his enemies.

The shield-bearer saw it. His eyes widened.

Clyde stood up. Not slowly or with struggle. He rose as if the impact from before had meant nothing. The pale orange mist coiled around his body, feeding into the storm of lightning that now burned even brighter than before.

The white-blue arcs no longer flickered weakly. They surged with renewed intensity and crackling with violent energy.

The shield-bearer froze. That should have taken him down. At the very least, it should have bought them time.

But Clyde was already standing there again.

Across the battlefield, the caster saw it too. Her expression also changed from focus into visible shock. She had calculated the drain on his energy. That should have slowed him down far more than this.

Yet he had recovered almost instantly. Worse, the pressure coming from him had not decreased but increased.

The shield-bearer clenched his teeth.

He did not allow himself to hesitate any longer. His own magic reserves were already running low. He could feel the fatigue creeping into his limbs. If he waited, then it would be over.

He moved. With a roar, he forced his body forward again.

His shield came up. Its surface glowing as he pushed what little magic he had left into reinforcing it.

The ground cracked under his steps as he charged, committing everything into this attack.

Clyde did not move at first. The lightning around him grew louder.

Then it exploded.

A violent surge of white-blue energy burst outward from his body, scattering the dust around him and sending sparks tearing across the battlefield. The orange mist twisted tighter around him.

In the next instant, he was gone.

He surged forward with a speed that distorted the air around him and he closed the distance in a blink of an eye.

The shield-bearer didn’t have time to react.

Clyde’s sword moved in one strike. The Demonic Sword cut down in a single arc. The impact was instantaneous.

The reinforced shield split apart.

The blade carved through it as if it were nothing. The pale bone edge wrapped in roaring lightning that tore through the defensive magic without slowing down. The shield broke in half. The force of the strike continues forward without losing momentum.

Then it reached the man behind it. The cut went deep.

The shield-bearer’s body jerked as the blade tore through his armor and into his flesh. Blood burst from the wound as the lightning discharged violently into him, surging through his body in destructive currents.

His charge stopped instantly.

For a moment, he stood there frozen. Then his body gave out.

The broken halves of the shield fell first, hitting the ground with heavy crashes.

A heartbeat later, the man followed to drop to the ground.

—