The battle raged on, but their side was at a disadvantage.
The warriors were growing tired, and Riana's cohort was not in a strong position either. Slaying the corrupted creatures was becoming increasingly difficult, especially after being struck by the overwhelming wave of power. Not to mention, these monsters could only be stopped by beheading them.
Riana turned her spear and thrust it at the neck of a corrupted creature, ripping its head off with a swift motion.
As she fought and killed these monstrous foes, her thoughts drifted to the king. She wondered whether he was still alive or had succumbed to death.
He intrigued her; his words were inspiring, no matter how foolish they might have sounded. Alas, he was weak, making the chances of his survival as slim as being spared by the Shadow God.
Suddenly, Riana sensed an unsettling presence. It felt as if the darkness surrounding her was shifting.
"What in the...?" she muttered as she noticed a surge of movement from her right side. The corrupted creatures and undead began to converge in that direction.
Then, a disturbance rippled through the air.
Focusing her vision, she caught sight of multiple crescents of darkness erupting and slicing through the monsters.
Amid the chaos, a figure darted between the corrupted beings. Riana could hardly believe her eyes.
With white hair and fierce black eyes blazing with intensity, the elusive king—whom she thought had perished on this battlefield—was the very person who had turned the tides of the fight.
"No way..." escaped her lips as she watched the elusive king, whom she thought had died on this battlefield.
***
Wren used the headless corpse of one of the nightmare creatures and jumped over the swarm.
This feeling of power was exhilarating.
After experiencing a moment of weakness, he felt strength coursing through his nerves, leading him to believe his chances of survival had improved.
However, the possibility of failure didn't vanish.
He moved with the maximum efficiency his body could give in this moment of crisis, and it was working.
The number of the nightmare creatures and the undead was shrinking. In the next moment, the members of the awakened cohort were also here to support him.
And their leader, the man named Orion, was keeping the Mad Shadow at bay. However, their fight felt more personal than strategic.
Wren rotated himself, dodging two attacks simultaneously by hair's breadth. His sword slashed through the heads in an instant, putting the creatures down for good.
He landed on the clear spot before getting caught up by more undead and nightmare creatures.
Before he could move, a strange pain crept through his body, making him stop for a moment. But a moment of stillness meant death, and the monsters had closed the distance.
As the long claws of the monster made their attempt to reach him, a spear with blinding speed pushed the monster a few steps back before getting completely obliterated by a burly man.
"I don't know how you have reached this state of power without awakening, but when you are putting such efforts, why should we stay back. You have earned the right, the right to be called a King." The burly man said, resting his axe on his shoulder.
The spearwoman appeared right beside him, picking up her spear from the squashed corpse. She said:
"We will handle the corrupted; you go and handle the one who is controlling all of them. The morale of the army has increased thanks to you; now it's your duty to solidify it by bringing that bastard's head."
Wren looked at her eyes, the confidence that she had placed in him. It was nothing more than overwhelming.
He nodded.
"I would need your support," He looked at the spearwoman, and then at the burly man, before continuing, "Ensure that none of the corrupted ones and undead come towards us."
The burly man, Baldur, surprisingly nodded.
He looked at the spearwoman with a serious expression and asked one thing; he had been thinking of asking for a while.
"What's your name?"
The spearwoman chuckled at the serious expression.
"Riana."
Wren nodded.
"Then, let's do it." As he said, the two of them looked at the Fallen, whose gaze could also be felt through the robe that was hiding its appearance.
As if challenging the two of them, two gargantuan heaps of flesh were moulded into a structure before resembling two knights.
Multiple arms and countless appendages appeared on the body; the fallen had used its ability to control the flesh of the dead nightmare creatures.
"I take the left one, you take the right one. You can do it, right?" Wren asked Riana.
Riana smirked.
"I should be the one asking this, but okay, count on me," she said as her body blurred and she was already upon the abomination.
Wren followed her suit.
His sword, coated in darkness, swung with intent to cleave the heap of flesh in two.
Although the blade did meet the flesh, it could only inflict a deep gash, and was already regenerating.
"What a hassle..." he muttered as he dodged the vast hand coming towards him, trying to crush him.
He jumped right in front of the face of the flesh knight, before shifting his body and dodging the fist that went straight through its head.
'Well, it seems that Fallen isn't proficient with this.' He thought as he cut the legs of the flesh knight, where the flesh was the thinnest, forcing the headless body to fall.
The flesh was recovering; however, Wren didn't wait and was already moving toward the fallen.
He looked at Riana, who was still fighting the flesh knight, and this didn't sit quite well with him.
Why wasn't Riana done with the mindless monster?
Just then...
-swish!
A blade went through his arm; it would have gone through his heart if he hadn't moved moments earlier.
He gritted his teeth before pulling away from the blade.
Looking back, he saw another flesh knight, this one, however, was of the same stature as his.
Wren looked at his hand; the darkness around him was already healing the wound, but a strange sensation permeated his mind.
He wanted to kill.
It was like an urge, an urge, which was becoming uncontrollable.
His eyes darted towards the Fallen; for the whole time that nightmare creature showed no signs of getting involved in a fight.
Meaning there was a chance for it, that the Fallen relied on its soldiers.
Wren's body moved instinctively, dodging the flesh knight's blade and the enormous mass of flesh from which this knight was born.
There were three enemies now, but only one needed to die.
Wren's mouth stretched into a wicked grin. His body moved, and he attacked the heap of flesh from behind.
Using the giant's body as a blind spot, he forced the flesh knight to follow him, only to find nothing.
Darkness suddenly erupted from all places and lunged at the flesh knight and the mass of flesh. Its crushing grip ripped apart the flesh knight, leaving not even a piece of flesh in its wake.
Wren reappeared from the darkness, his eyes were bleeding, and blood also came down from his nose.
Expecting such strain, he wiped the blood off. The darkness then started to move towards him, as he felt its cold embrace, and strength flowed in.
So did the bloodlust.
He looked at the struggling mass of flesh; the strain from controlling darkness with such efficiency was taking a toll on him, but it didn't matter.
This was enough.
Riana was guarding his blind spot, so now, it was time for him to end this bloody battle.
Power surged in his muscles as he moved towards the Fallen, who was also ready to fight, with its scythe.
Its robes fluttered, revealing what was hidden under them.
When he saw it, Wren couldn't believe his eyes. There was no flesh; the bones were pure white like the sand, with empty sockets where its eyes should be, replaced by blue flames.
The sharp blade of the scythe clashed with the blade coated in darkness. The blue flames in its eye sockets flared before uttering a single word from its jaw.
"Die."
As it said, the skeleton shifted the scythe, pushing Wren away before swinging the scythe's blade towards his neck.
...
Somewhere, in a place of nothingness, a being rested on a vast throne. Its appearance was hidden in the darkness, and then it muttered:
"Things are getting interesting..."
...
The sun was about to rise, and the great battle was also about to come to its end.
In the vast expanse of sand, two figures were stuck in a brawl. One of them was Wren, whose body was covered in cracks, with darkness flowing out from it.
He had overdone himself, his body was covered in gruesome scars, and he had lost his left eye.
The condition of the fallen was significantly worse. Its bones were cracked, with some even missing.
Both of them had lost their weapons, and the fallen's army was also nowhere to be found to help it, as there was no flesh available for use since it had been burned by one of the awakened.
Wren raised both of his hands, clutching them in a fist, and barraged them at the core hidden beneath the ribcage.
The sound of glass breaking was heard, the blue flames in its eyes died, and wisps of blue smoke escaped from the Fallen's mouth as it took its last breath.
The spell's bewitching voice spoke in his head.
[You have slain a Fallen Tyrant, Litch of the Evernight.]
[You have received a memory.]
***
"It's your defeat." Orion spoke to the Mad Shadow; both of them were covered in injuries, and the shadow had lost one of its horns.
The Mad Shadow chuckled.
"Defeat? Me?" It laughed chaotically and continued, "You thought that it would end like this? Why do you think I chose this place?" The shadow said with a growl as the sun rose from behind.
...
Far away, the vast expanse of sand was illuminated by the rising sun. But then..
The fabric of reality twisted before something rippled out of it. A vast shadow covered the sand before it disappeared again.
And reappeared, where the battle was taking place.