Brendel swung his sword to parry the white fang, and a blast of wind sprang from the points where the blades connected, driving his hair back in a fluttering mess. He did not resist the force and slid backwards with his eyes narrowed from the pain from his hands.
His skin had ripped and the blood was starting to flow onto the sword’s hilt. While he had not received any apparent injuries from the opponent’s blade, the images on his retina had repeatedly flashed, and his HP bar had dropped by over thirty points.
[Beyond the apparent wounds from my hands, this means that my internal organs are starting to get damaged. Any more of this impact will mean that they will get ruptured. Internal bleeding is going to happen… If it’s not for my high Physique, I wouldn’t be able to receive even one blow from Ebdon and die from the impact.]
But what made him anguished was the fact that Ebdon seemed to have realized that as well. Its timing for each strike had shortened and was becoming stronger as well, not giving him a chance to even breathe for a moment.
[Doesn’t this bastard care about his own troops? I won’t be able to last if this continues, but your entire army is getting wiped out! Do you really think you’re stronger than the entire army here?]
But he did not know that ridiculous thought was the closest to reality. Even though Ebdon was considered as a hero of Aouine, but it had become twisted after he had woken up as an undead. Even though most undead did not retain their memories before they died, Ebdon managed to retain most of its glorious moments and often revel in them. As an undead, it saw through the memories like another person, and the bloodbath in the battles made it merciless.
Ebdon was destined to become a Madara high ranking general due to its great insight, and sought only to kill the most dangerous enemies. And in front him, was an excellent commander whose threat was greater than the entire army combined. It would forsake the chance at victory just to kill the youth.
But Brendel’s performance had greatly exceeded its expectations. As a master of Aouine’s swordsmanship, it was able to discern that Brendel had learn some of the most basic military swordsmanship with probably one or two imperial sword artes. Even though his skills appeared to be no better than an imperial guard, he had defended against its attacks time after time without fail.
Ultimately, it could only choose to utilize its overpowering strength and slowly torture him to death. This was difficult for it to accept as this method was despicable, but it had sworn another oath to the undead and chose to throw his honor—
Ebdon knew that any other undead would choose to do the same.
“May Mother Marsha bless Madara.” The undead knight’s flames in its eyes were cold as the unforgiving sword threatened to cleave Brendel into two.
But as soon the blade went down, Brendel had rolled to the sides, as if he kn
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