The skeletal king stepped forward again, each movement ringing like a funeral bell — heavy, deliberate, ancient. The greatsword scraped across stone, leaving a deep gouge that sparked faint blue ether.
Oliver rolled his shoulders once, knuckles whitening around the hilt of his sword.
Fast… heavy… but predictable, he thought.
The Undead King's head tilted, as if hearing his thoughts — twin blue flames flaring brighter beneath its visor.
Then it moved.
FWOOOSH—!
The greatsword came down like a thunderbolt.
Oliver darted aside — stone shattered where he had stood a heartbeat ago.
Before the impact dust even rose, he lunged in — both hands gripping his sword — and slashed across the king's exposed ribcage.
CLANG—!
The blade struck something harder than steel.
Oliver's eyes widened.
It's… reinforced bone? No — enchanted.
The skeletal king twisted its wrist and backhanded him.
BAM—!!
Oliver flew back, skidding across the cracked stone floor, blood spraying from his lips.
