The giant body crumbled in all directions, making Lancelot fall backwards, using Caladbolg to keep his body stead; now that her power was used, he could only focus on his strength, standing with her in both hands.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as an aura spread from his feet, expanding around the ground slowly, the disgusting and rotten snow taking a magical purple colouring... his body and skin filled with veins pulsing and writhing under them, drawing whatever ether he could find and use whether pure, rotting or undead.
"Ha.....haa....."
His body was tired but could recover with only a few monts rest; as he stabbed Caladbolg into the earth, the mont the blade penetrated the circle around him, its radius doubled, covering hundreds of zombies at once as the ground began to shake.
"Even if you send a thousand, I shall slay a thousand; if you send a million, I will slay a million. I am the blade that protects my kingdom and loved ones."
∟ Graveyard of Swords
In a two-hundred-ter radius around Lancelot, swords sprouted from the ground like wildflowers in this rotten graveyard of dirty, putrid air, transforming the battlefield into a spectacle of steel and death.
Treading his arms, Lancelot began breathing deeply as the arrows and stray ice lances shot from the wall, avoiding his current position as if his current actions were drawing all the zombies in to fight him, like so taunting move.
∟ Tempest Blitz
His four wings suddenly enlarged, flapping and billowing away the disgusting rot and vile stench that made his skin crawl and his nose burn with pain from each breath.
A high-pitched buzzing sounded from his winds as they began to vibrate at an impossible speed, the floor below them torn apart with each repetition.
Blood dripped from his nose, hidden only by the evolved form of his dominus visor.
The feeling of his veins and arteries being sucked dry with several straws at using all these abilities while half exhausted was dangerous, as magic began to crackle around his hands and feet, the blessing of wind swirling around his feet to grant imnse speed and his fists bathed in a pure crimson fla for nothing but destruction.
'This is... going to make weaker for at least five minutes after this, Marimo, Maria, you all should prepare to unleash your biggest spells after they regroup...'
A gust of brutal wind covered the battlefield with thousands of corpses now falling apart, never to rise again, even if the god of necromancy appeared.
Over five hundred tres, the size of his current field, The largest Graveyard of swords, as he took the first step.
Lancelot du Lac's most beautiful and most horrific dance had begun.
∟ Tempest Blitz - Slow Dance of Steel
****
Maria stood with Marimo and Nuriel as they stared at Lancelot fighting... she bit her lip so hard she drew blood, her delicate white skin turning red as she watched him endure so much...
His body flashed from one sword to another, performing a beautiful arc and slicing apart several zombies, only to take a blow or two himself, yet once he finished, the sword would explode, killing a dozen zombies... over and over, his body flew and darted, slashed and carved... blood and feathers strewn across the battlefield covering the hundreds...
the thousands of undead like markers for their graves.
But Lancelot continued... dancing beautifully amongst the carnage and death.
A Tempest Blitz that was more akin to a Dance of Blood
Marimo and Maria held hands tightly... the fear in their hearts dissipated as they saw Lancelot flying in the air, his body covered in wounds., but there were still hundreds of swords... the black armour and lovely scales that protected him now half torn, filled with cracks and scratches...
"I must do sothing now; it will be too late if we wait for them to finish..." Maria looked at lodica, who seed to feel the sa way, the huge amount of undead had been cut down by their magic and Lancelot's overburdened battle... Of the original twelve thousand, only four thousand remained... but no matter how many tis he abused the ability to level up in battle.
It had long stopped completely healing his body, only removing a small amount of the damage, like a plaster on a severed leg.
"Maria... can you create a barrier? Sothing strong enough to protect Lancelot for three minutes...." Marimo asked nervously... knowing the kind of spell she was thinking... but it was impossible. Maria knew this was not a solution and would just buy ti...
instead, she fluttered her blue wings and once again looked at her alter ego...
'We have to pray to the fairy goddess of winter...'
Maria's wings beca bigger... shining like a sapphire crystal as she floated into the air, her body releasing a blinding white light that caught the eyes of all fairies and snow elves; her alter ego, lodica, also did the sa...
"Our lady of eternal frost and winter... hear our call, please lend us your power, so we may protect him who has given us a new life... a ho and purpose... Please freeze the battlefield in your eternal winter... protect Lancelot with your cold embrace..."
The fairies copied the verse of Maria before they started to sing in a strange language, only Maria singing in the language people could understand.
A cold chill began to swirl and dance across the winter town, each fairy a conduit summoning their beloved goddess to save them.
"Goddess, with your frozen grace,
Hear our plea in this sacred space.
Lend us strength in the shadows' chase,
Protect Lancelot in your cold embrace.
Eternal Queen, with icy might,
Freeze the battlefield in your tranquil night.
For he who gave purpose and light,
Shield him now in your cold embrace.
In realms of snow and starry gleam,
Where icy whispers weave a dream,
A ho, a purpose, our hearts redeem,
In your eternal winter, a tiless sche.
Our voices rise like frost, so clear,
In the hymn of winter, draw near.
A ho, a purpose, forever dear,
Lady of Frost, in your presence, we revere.
Freeze the fray with your frosty breath,
In the cold winds, carry our plea, a wreath.
Protect him who stands, facing death,
In your icy realm, our guardian, beneath.
As the hymn lingers in the wintry air,
Goddess of Frost, with a regal glare,
Descend in majesty, your power declares,
In your eternal winter, battles cease and care."
In the peaceful aftermath of the hymn, Nuriel felt a subtle shift in the air, as if the very fabric of the winter night responded to the ethereal call. The adow, bathed in moonlight, seed to hold its breath in anticipation.
Gentle lodies and sacred words lingered, echoing among the crystalline trees, creating a serene symphony of sound.
"That is... a true... divine!?" Nuriel, the daughter of a divine herself, felt the pressure and purity of one who could match her creator, causing chills to flicker down her spine.
As the last note of the hymn drifted away, a gentle breeze infused with frost swept through the clearing. The temperature plumted, and the air shimred with a silver glow.
Suddenly, the moonlit clearing was enveloped in a cascade of delicate snowflakes, dancing in a celestial ballet as if in sync with the male below. Soft blue frozen threads grasped at the blades of Lancelot all began to flutter and fly through the air, penetrating countless undead as the man himself gasped for breath in the centre of hell.
In the heart of this wintry spectacle, a figure erged—an apparition of ethereal grace. The Lady of Eternal Frost materialised, her form a crystalline manifestation of winter's beauty. Her gown, woven from frost and starlight, sparkled with an otherworldly luminescence.
Nuriel, eyes wide with awe, witnessed the arrival of the Winter Goddess. A serene power emanated from her, freezing ti and space in a celestial pause. The snowflakes, suspended in midair, created a surreal tableau, capturing the essence of magic and wonder.
The Goddess of Winter descended with regal poise, and slowly, her body walked forward, leaving traces of frost on the ground. Her presence, a living manifestation of the hymn's plea, filled the clearing with tranquillity as if the very essence of winter seed to bow in reverence to her majesty.
Her pale blue eyes surveyed the battlefield with a gaze that held the ancient wisdom of eternal ice.
The undead horde, once relentless, now stood frozen in a spectral tableau of ice and shadow. With a gesture of her delicate hand, a simple snap of her fingers and the Winter Queen unleashed a breath of frost that swept across the entire forest, turning the unholy creatures into statues of crystalline darkness.
Her wondrous frost revived the rotten and decaying trees like a goddess of nature. The forest began to shimr with its beautiful blue light, the dark clouds and horn of death long silenced.
Humbled and entranced, the people felt the weight of the Winter Goddess's power, a force that transcended mortal understanding.
The adow, once a battlefield, now transford into a sanctuary of frozen enchantnt, bore witness to the tiless dance between the mystical and the mundane.
In the presence of the Queen of Eternal Frost, the echoes of the hymn lingered in the air, a lody etched into the very fabric of the winter night.
"Ugh...Kuha....!" Maria's mouth coughed a small amount of blood; as Nuriel discovered during the song, many of the fairies fell unconscious... "Well, summoning a divine is impossible to endure... they did well."
Nuriel turned her head towards the battlefield... with a look of confusion as the goddess remained and stood beside the kneeling Lancelot with her ethereal aura.
"What does she want from master?"
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