Between heaven and earth, only two figures truly remained.
The Death Knight, riding no warhorse;
The Dead Bone, wielding a sword.
The Death Knight strode forward, and with one step he was before Dead Bone.
The dancing jade-white Wither King Bone, under the black blade, broke apart instantly, unable to resist even for a moment.
But taking advantage of this, Dead Bone had already retreated thousands of meters.
It spread its wings, and the wings whipped up the wind, a wind filled with mourning and lamentation.
The lamentation brought with it piercing cold;
Within the cold, waves of mournful sounds;
This was Sario's "Dirge of Frost and Death," and though Dead Bone had not fully mastered this epic skill, it could still wield it with its own power.
It fused a great amount of the concepts of death and frost, making its might stronger than Sario's original skill.
What's more important was...
"Dirge of Frost and Death" is mist, and a sword cannot slice through mist.
Dense fog rushed forward.
Frost began to form on the Death Knight's armor.
"Such strong Power of Concept, truly worthy of a young king,"
"However, I have cultivated for countless years and have slain legends numbering in the tens of thousands," the Death Knight replied.
Mourning, deathly loss, frost—these were also his domains.
The Death Knight, too, raised a black fog.
His black fog rolled and within it seemed to wail countless souls.
Bit by bit, the black fog devoured the Mist of Frost and Death.
At this time, the Death Knight raised his sword high, the dense Power of Death churning on the hilt, as if intending to pull both the azure sky and the night sky into death itself.
"Is he wielding two concepts separately?"
The fusion of two concepts was achievable by Dead Bone.
But to stagger two concepts, employing them in different domains, it...
No, that's not right, not just two!
This dueling ground that isolated heaven and earth was also a Power of Concept.
Dead Bone's eyes widened, its mind replaying the moments that had just transpired.
It replayed them over and over, time seeming to stand still in that moment.
Suddenly, a flash of light streaked across.
Its gaze locked onto a specific spot.
A standard, borne upon the back of the Death Knight.
At this moment, only the concept of death converged on the sword was truly wielded by the knight.
This was simply... brilliant!
Dead Bone's Soul Flame burned brightly.
Losing the force controlling it, the Mist of Frost and Death swiftly receded, while in front of it the black fog surged forward, enveloping its entire body.
But the King's Might dispersed, an invisible storm of will clearing the fog.
In the mist, Dead Bone too was raising its sword high.
Its cape fluttered fiercely.
Behind it, the silhouette of Holy Mountain appeared.
Countless members of the Undead race were shouting to the heavens at this moment.
This was the Emperor's One Sword, also representing the sentence of death.
Black against black, the sword light collided here.
It sounded as if something had shattered.
Once more, figures of angry, roaring high-ranking Undead appeared all around.
The long night dragged on.
The two figures stood opposite each other in midair.
The Death Knight touched his sword, silently, silent for a long while before slowly sighing.
The will of a king cannot be defied.
"Our Undead race, my lord, the Silent Sovereign, awaits your arrival at any time,"
Having said this, he mounted the Nightmare Warhorse, turned around, and vanished into the deep night.
Dead Bone felt itself all over.
There, several bones as white as jade had turned black, marked by the Power of Death.
"Truly a terrifyingly powerful figure,"
"Truly a terrifyingly powerful figure," Dead Bone repeated.
Beneath Black Mountain.
A figure identical in every way sighed deeply.