Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 155: Death Throe

From then on, the battle became one big, lethal rhythm. Every time the Lord used his devastating telekinesis to hurl a massive pillar or crush the ground, Percival dodged or retaliated with attacks of his own.

Lewis had found his feet thanks to Mercius, but he did well to stay far away from the battle, using his arcane powers to keep the ambient mana balanced, and preventing the Lord from healing.

Despite killing waves of them, Demons still slithered out of corners and Percival’s Skeletons attacked them ferociously.

Their numbers had been reduced to twenty, yet they fought just as fiercely, hacking down those green nonentities with their Blazeforged Blades and Spectral Longswords.

Since Percival’s Demon Summons were all gone, Mercius led the Skeletons, keeping them away from Percival. He chimed in at times to help his master beat down the Vampire Lord.

But most of the time, the Dark Swordsman had it handled.

Percival looked terrifying when he fought like this. He moved like a maestro, one of blade and death, systematically dismantling the Lord’s obsidian mana-flesh.

Necromancer Skill after Swordsman Skill, the Lord’s extremely high HP bar plummeted into the red.

Crying and shouting couldn’t do him any good now. His physical form was heavily fractured, leaking thick streams of dying emerald light.

But as Percival moved in for another strike of ⸢Overhead Cleave⸥, he felt a great shudder take over the entire Hall.

Percival froze, the Skill fluttering away. He looked around the Zone, at Lewis and Mercius, wondering if they had felt it too. If it was some kind of telekinesis.

But this was greater than telekinesis.

The frozen, suspended glass in the air began to vibrate so violently it hummed. The walls began to crack, the fallen, broken pillars began to rise, ascending to the earthly ceiling.

Percival turned to the Vampire Lord with realization. This was a Death Throe.

Not every Gate World Boss had one. It was an ability given to few, powerful or complex Gate World Bosses.

The notification flashed before Percival’s eyes.

⸢CRITICAL WARNING⸥

⸢Boss Health at 5%.⸥

⸢DEATH THROE INITIATED: Epitome of Regret⸥

⸢Threat Output Multiplier: x2⸥

The Vampire Lord let out a wail that sounded like a thousand dying men. The fissures in his body erupted into pillars of blinding green light.

The magic shattered the frozen blood lake causing the ankle-deep pool of stagnant blood to rise into the air.

From then, it became a gravity defier, forming massive, swirling cyclones of corrupted red and green energy.

The suspended chunks of the pillars, the thousands of razor-sharp stained glass shards, and the shattered remnants of the Demons were all pulled into the vortex.

The Vampire Lord hovered in the center of the apocalypse, his eyes burning like dying stars. His power output doubled.

The air pressure in the room became so heavy that Lewis was forced to his knees, coughing up blood, while Mercius’s shield began to splinter.

Percival stood behind his ⸢Radiant Guard⸥, watching with surprised yet scheming eyes.

"I WILL BURY YOU IN THE ASHES OF MY RUIN!" The Vampire Lord bellowed, compressing the entire swirling maelstrom of telekinetic and temporal destruction into a single, colossal sphere of annihilation directly above his head.

He was preparing to drop the entire crypt on them, condensing it into a strike that would erase them from reality.

"Hero Percival, it’s over!" Lewis screamed over the deafening roar of the vortex. "That Death Throe is incredibly powerful! We can’t block that!"

Percival remained still, watching the Vampire Lord with such intensity one would mistake him for a hawk.

"Who said anything about blocking?" Percival muttered.

He tightened his grip on the Basilisk Blade, then pumped his legs to start a sprint.

"What are you doing?!" Lewis yelled.

Percival sped towards the Throe, an insane Swordsman, heading into the vortexes, the blood and the vengeful Vampire.

Mid-sprint, he tapped into his Swordsman Core and activated a Skill.

⸢Future’s Edge⸥

⸢Temporarily unlocks the sword’s full potential for the swordsman to use while drastically boosting all physical, defensive and speed stats by ×3 for a short time⸥

⸢S-Grade Skill⸥.

With the air snapping around Percival, the Basilisk Blade let out a high-pitched, harmonic whine as the sword’s full, latent potential was violently unlocked.

A shockwave of silver, blinding aura erupted from his body. Percival’s physical stats, his defense, and his speed drastically multiplied in a fraction of a second.

The Vampire Lord hurled one of the vortexes downward. It was an unblockable, inescapable force of temporal rot and telekinetic crushing power.

But Percival kept running, like he was speeding into it.

He became a streak of silver and blue light, moving so fast that Lewis’s Arcanist vision could barely track his frequency.

Then, when his momentum had peaked, Percival launched himself directly at the falling apocalypse, piercing through all the Boss’s defenses like grass, and raising the fiercely glowing Basilisk Blade.

At that same moment, he activated another Skill.

⸢Eclipse⸥

⸢All mana energy is spent into a single, overwhelming attack that is completely unblockable and deals catastrophic damage⸥

⸢S-Grade Skill⸥.

Percival’s Swordsman mana pool instantly drained to zero. Every single drop of that pure sword energy was funneled into the snake sword in his hand.

Because of that, the Basilisk Blade turned from black to a glorious silver. A silver so bright it could replace the moon.

Even worse, Vampires were deterred by silver.

"NOOOOO!!!" The Demon Boss cried.

Percival brought the sword down from over his head.

For a split second, the entire crypt went completely, horrifyingly silent. A black light covered everything, pitch-black, and took away every source of light.

Then a blinding white came from the center, and the explosion hit.

A magnificent, catastrophic shockwave of inverted colors ripped through the Hall of Living Veins.

The unblockable force of Eclipse simply sheared through the Death Throe, splitting the x2 output of the Level 110 boss perfectly in half.

The green-and-red maelstrom detonated harmlessly against the crypt walls, vaporizing stone and melting iron.

Lewis was hurled backward, but caught by Mercius who stood firm into the ground, watching his Master’s glory.

Percival’s silver arc of energy carried forward, crashing directly into the Vampire Lord. The sovereign shrieked as his crystallized rapier shattered into a million pieces.

The absolute damage of the unblockable strike cleaved through his emerald flesh, shattering his physical form and blowing out the emerald fires in his eyes.

He struck the wall behind him before collapsing to the ground, everything he had raised crashing around him.

The shockwave faded. Dust settled. The entire crypt was in ruins. Lewis lay gasping on the floor behind the cracked metal of Mercius’s armor.

In the center of the devastated chamber, the Vampire Lord was completely depleted. He had been reduced to a broken, crawling husk.

He dragged his half-shattered torso across the stone, reaching a trembling, clawed hand toward the pristine glass coffin.

The green mana bleeding from him was weak, flickering like a dying candle.

"MY LOVE..." the Vampire Lord wept, his voice reduced to a pathetic, agonizing rasp. "I TRIED... I TRIED TO COME BACK FOR YOU! WHY... WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME IN THIS HELL...?"

Miserably, he clawed at the stone, weeping tears of green smoke.

Percival walked slowly toward him, the thud of his greaves echoing loudly in the quiet crypt.

The Future’s Edge buff had faded, and his Swordsman mana was entirely empty, but he didn’t need his Swordsman Class for what he was about to do next.

He stood over the shattered, wailing sovereign, and looked down at him, his dark hair flowing, his blue eyes burning.

The Vampire Lord looked up at him with a cracked face twisted in endless sorrow. "END IT! AT LEAST, I CAN BE WITH HER AT LAST!"

Percival watched him, almost amused. The Vampire Lord had only ⸢6 HP⸥ left. Barely anything—even a punch could end him right there.

But Percival didn’t punch him. Instead, he slowly extended his hand, and opened his palm.

"⸢Enslave⸥"