As all the fights of the second round ended, Astaroth was once again teleported to another platform. This time, before him, stood a tall zombie-looking man.
The particularity about him was that his head was missing from its shoulders. The zombie was holding it under its arms, almost like carrying a football.
He was wearing full plate armor, and had a huge great sword strapped to his back. Although he looked mighty for any normal person, Astaroth knew this was a third-tier combatant.
From his gear alone, Astaroth could guess this man was in the bruiser segment of classes. He wasn’t entirely a tank, but wasn’t a pure DPS either.
Bruisers were typically tough opponents to deal with, as they had the defenses to withstand most onslaughts, and the damage to take down squishy targets.
Of course, most of this wouldn’t apply to himself, since his damage was so high and his defenses rivalled most tanks currently, but Astaroth was still only observing for now.
As the timer for the start of combat ticked away, the headless zombie in front of Astaroth finally talked. He spoke in a heavy Irish accent.
“We finally meet in single combat, lad. Get ready to fall to the mighty Gan Ceann.” He said, putting his head back on his shoulders.
“Can I know your name if you are going to best me in single combat?” Astaroth asked the hulk of a man.
“Aye. Me name’s Declan.” He replied.
“And mine Astaroth.” Astaroth said, taking a slight bow.
“I hope our fight is one of honor and principle. No dirty trick.” He added.
“Aye.” Declan said, nodding his head.
As the last seconds ticked away, the tall man pulled out his weapon. The sword kept on coming until a full two-meter slab of metal with sharp edges was fully drawn.
It looked more like someone had welded a sheet of steel, one foot wide by two meters long, right onto a sword hilt and guard. Astaroth knew right then that a hit from this would take thousands of his health.
He had to steer clear of it at all times, lest he become two separate pieces. And by the looks of ease of wielding from Declan, this would not be an easy feat.
Astaroth pulled out his two daggers, deciding to go for speed over strength this time. He could guess this would be his best bet.
ƥαṇdαηθνε|
As impact became imminent, Declan swung his gigantic sword in a sideways arc, as Astaroth dropped to his knees, sliding forward and slashing at the back of the zombie’s knees.
As his slide ended, and Astaroth got back up, the hair on his neck stood up, and he quickly rolled forward. As he did, the enormous sword came slicing where his torso had been moments before.
Astaroth even felt the surge of wind displacement from the blade on his back.
‘Such force!’ He thought, as he jumped back to his feet.
Not a moment too soon, for the enormous blade was incoming again, this time from overhead. The onslaught was almost non-stop, and Astaroth had a bit of trouble finding his footing.
He had wanted to try fighting without melding with White, but be as it may, right now, he could not do much more than dodge.
Declan was quite impressive in his wielding of such a gigantic sword, never stopping its momentum. He would instead make it curve to change its direction, keeping all the force constant.
He looked like a giant top, spinning in different arcs continuously. It was working fine, though, as Astaroth had only just enough response time to duck and dodge the attacks, unable to do any himself.
He concluded he was still too inexperienced to fight without his advantage, so he melded with White. As his hair whitened, and fur grew on his arms, the speed of the sword seemed to slow down.
It was now at a much more manageable speed, where could predict its direction and adjust his movement better.
With this change, Astaroth was now taking the upper hand. As he slipped by the sword over and over, slashing and piercing with his daggers between the plate gaps and into weak points.
The damage he was dealing was negligible, but it was damage nonetheless.
As the big zombie’s health slowly ticked away, his face was becoming angrier and angrier. And suddenly there was another change.
Declan jumped in the air, a few feet off the ground, and Astaroth jumped back, feeling something was off. As he did, his eyes went wide.
He had not jumped remotely far enough, as a skeletal horse appeared under Declan, eyes flaming, as it ran toward Astaroth, at a full gallop.
The impact between the warhorse and Astaroth’s small body sent him hurtling into the platform’s barrier, taking away a good chunk of his health.
After hitting the wall, Astaroth fell to the ground, his breath short and painful. It was like a truck had run him over.
The horse disappeared from under Declan as his feet landed next to Astaroth. Astaroth quickly reacted, kicking his feet on the barrier, sending himself into a slide, away from the hulking figure.
As he slid away, he contorted his body, rolling onto his shoulder before pushing off the floor with his arms, and landing on his feet. Declan was already running at him, his sword following behind him.
They went back to duking it out, for what felt like an eternity for Astaroth, until the zombie finally fell to his knees. His health bar was flickering.
“This was a good fight, Declan.” Astaroth said, walking up to the big zombie.
“Aye, t’was. I hope to fight you again, lad.” Declan replied, flashing his rotting teeth at Astaroth.
Astaroth pierced his dagger into the exposed chin of the man, taking his last health points. The hulking figure then disappeared from before him and reappeared in the center of the platform.
His head was back under his arm as he slowly walked to Astaroth. He looked calm and composed, like he hadn’t just fought to the death.
“I have a question for you.” Declan said, stopping before Astaroth.
