Bro, I'm not an Undead!

Chapter 1208: The One Left Standing (22)

Jiggorrhax was using his breath to plaster Aigas\' Rules and kill the outside enemies peering and invading Aigas. If he were to see Replicus (as he did) he would assume that he was also an outsider, especially given that in the current time, there had never been something as powerful as Replicus. If there were, Jiggorrhax would have known about it.

On the other hand, sensing the darkness and light from Skullius, Jiggorrhax would be convinced that Skullius was indeed Fulgardt, even if his appearance was different. After all, the Immoral had been known for some rather atrocious acts.

And thus...

\'You won\'t be living through this gambit, fake. And even if you do...\' Skullius thought as he looked upward and activated CREATURE once more.

His enemy didn\'t look at all fazed by the insurmountable challenge below him.

Even though both combatants had dragons for allies, Beyrmir was no match for Jiggorrhax. Yet this didn\'t matter to Replicus.

It wasn\'t as if Skullius believed Replicus would be leaning on the Mercurian Long-Snout Legend anyway. The physical appearance of the Nullmancer boldly declared that fact. His individual strength was what would be tested against the fangs of the Abiding Madness and the humanoid calamity of the current age!

Replicus now looked quite different from before.

Instead of looking rather thin and lank, his figure had gained a bit of bulk and lost a little of its height. His ebony ceramic skin was now hidden under tufts of incredibly soft, short silver fur that thinned when they reached his chest, revealing a kite-shaped hole on his skin.

His brass Ju`wtta were glowing fiercely, attracting all attention to themselves while blazing with merigold Ju`wtte.

His hair, also in a pristine silver, was much longer and extended five meters behind him, billowing in a non-existent gust of wind. The baggy pants of thick fur he had worn as the Warmoth\'s Progeny were still cladding his legs, making him look a bit primal and ancient, and with his robes dismissed, Replicus truly looked like a savage.

The Warmoth\'s Spine and the Fallen Reincarnator\'s Shadow were flushed with torrents of angry merigold Ju`wtte and their appearance seemed to be... changing.

Indeed, changing.

For they were being blessed by the grace of the Soul-Burdened Warmoth!

This was the result of the implicit evolution; a transformation that had taken Replicus two evolutions beyond his previous one, and would last for only a few minutes!

But of course, a few minutes was all Replicus needed, though, he needed to maximise them, as afterwards, he would be stricken with fatigue so immense that he would lose consciousness, his body taking its time to reconfigure itself.

\'This should be done in a few minutes anyway - not that deadlines even matter now,\' Replicus thought and he opened one of his hands.

Skullius\' eyes under the mask of CREATURE bulged the instant he saw a ball of purple-gold particles appear in Replicus\' third hand.

"NOW!" he cried at Jiggorrhax, and immediately manifested the [Heart of Revelation] above the dragon\'s head.

And then it began.

The Herald of lost times shot into the sky with such speed that one would have thought his size was simply for show.

Space bent with his ascent, the clouds in the sky fleeing, the winds diving out of the way, mana burning as it collided with the darkness-clad figure of the dragon!

Replicus responded to the threat in kind.

He added an ungodly amount of Null Life Essence around Beyrmir and condensed it as best as he could.

It seemed Jiggorrhax, his maw livid with aggressive white flames seemed intent on ramming through Beyrmir, completely destroying him.

But unfortunately for him, that was not what ended up happening.

BOOOOOOOOM!

The Mercurian Long-Snout Legend, who was about two-thirds Jiggorrhax\'s size, had shot towards the ascending Herald fearlessly.

The impact when they met was so outrageous that it coursed through all the timelines Skullius had created, and every living thing within them felt it. The great drapes of time rippled and the creatures branded on them screamed and tumbled as their very state of existence was challenged.

The sea below the two dragons was pushed back, leaving only dry ground and plumes of dust.

It was chaos!

A seemingly unending shockwave rolled out, but before it could even begin to wane, the combatants who had caused it were already fighting furiously.

A quarter of Beyrmir\'s mercurian body had been blown off despite his thick coat of Null Life Essence, but that didn\'t stop him from brandishing his fangs and claws, clutching at Jiggorrhax and ripping away at him with all his might.

"A MERE IMITATION LIKE YOU SULLIES THE NAME OF MY KIND. BEGONE!" Jiggorrhax roared and his eyes (one of which had already regenerated from earlier), spat out beams of scorching white fire that blasted Beyrmir\'s head off easily.

But the Apostle couldn\'t be killed that way. His mercurian body manifested three more heads and more limbs that grabbed the body of the Herald and tussled with it.

Jiggorrhax growled in fury. He was forced to give the Apostle a bit of recognition.

While the two dragons tangoed, Skullius and Replicus were using their bodies as a battlefield.

A split-moment where the two simply glared at each other passed before Skullius summoned his six ghosts and charged barehanded. The Stolen Angel appeared behind the Soul-Burdened Warmoth and savagely swung Demion\'s Dance at his head!

But the Angel\'s blade never touched the Warmoth.

Faster than Skullius could see, a strange crude flute had been passed in Replicus\' fourth hand and was immediately injected with merigold Ju`wtte. It rapidly changed. It became stronger; much, much stronger.

The instant Replicus placed the flute to his lips and played a tune, the CREATURE, his ghosts and the Stolen Angel were cast backward at speeds that flirted intimately with light!

The heat that the flute expelled rapidly expanded space, forcing the enemies backward!

This was of course, one of the tools made by Beyrmir. The Legend could create weapons imbued with phenomena related to fire and heat.

After the single use, Replicus\' threw the crude flute up, and it was dragged by an unseen force towards one of Beyrmir\'s scales which opened up to receive it. At the same time, another one of the Apostle\'s scales opened and a giant pair of scorching scissors rushed into Replicus\'

hand.

Skullius quickly recovered by grabbing one of the many hands of the Noboboyama over Jiggorrhax to stop his momentum.

\'What was that?\' he questioned himself before looking forward and seeing, no, barely seeing

a chilling scene.

All he managed to salvage with his sight was a giant pair of sizzling scissors, lit up with

violent bolts of Ju`wtte, murdering his six ghosts in less than an infinitesimally miniscule

moment!

...And then suddenly, despite his increased durability because of CREATURE, despite his enhanced senses, he was carved through by the sweltering edge of the same scissors... before Replicus\' fist, burning with Inverted Mana blasted into his face!

"AAAARRRRRGHHHHH!"

Once again, harrowing pain coursed through Skullius, but a moment later, he didn\'t feel it. Everything in his body - his mana core, his muscles, his nerves - exploded into nothingness,

and only a deflated, crushed head remained.

One clean hit was all it had taken.

Replicus himself was quite surprised, but he didn\'t linger on the feeling of triumph.

The Stolen Angel returned, and it wasn\'t alone.

Ten thousand of its ghosts flashed all around Replicus, and took the opportunity to hide Skullius\' head from view. Replicus didn\'t miss which of the Angels took it.

In the next instance, an army of Tier 1,000 monstrosities were rushing him, some utilising their fists, some sending slashes from their swords, and some, with the aid of the hidden Mages attempting to confuse him by employing space to hide their blows for sneak attacks!

It was quite the scene, especially when considering where it was taking place. The battlefield - the two dragons - was constantly whirling, rising and descending - but it didn\'t matter to the combatants.

But likewise, being outnumbered ten thousand to one didn\'t matter to the current Replicus. When the first line of Angels reached him, he gripped his giant pair of scissors and swiped

across.

A length mark of red heat was left on space, and then six hundred Angels were sliced apart with thick fumes coming from their torn torsos. It hadn\'t mattered that they all shared

Replicus\' physique!

But the army of enemies didn\'t stop.

Replicus raised a finger and Ju`wtte splashed at its tip vigorously.

"[Unrelenting Ju`wtte Viper]" he said... and a thin, merigold Ju`wtte serpent bolted from his hand and connected to the ten thousand Angels in less than a breath.

They all erupted into showers of merigold lightning and a blink later, nothing remaining of

them. Behind where they had been, Skullius had been restored by the real Stolen Angel.

He had been hoping that he had some time to weigh his options, but now...

He looked on with gaping shock at the empty distance between himself and the Warmoth.

The current Replicus...couldn\'t be bested by mere tricks.

And having learned his lesson last time, Replicus wasn\'t going to let his guard down even a

little after incapacitating Skullius.

The Hybrid Luman understood all this.

Beads of sweat dropped from his temple.

But it wasn\'t over yet.

As quickly as he could, Skullius formed an ominous gesture with both his hands.

"Majestic Territory Expulsion..." he chanted.

...But Replicus didn\'t allow it.

The Soul-Burdened Warmoth did something truly... godlike.

With a finger, he traced a large, triangular, merigold shape in the air... and this shape, once it

was connected on all three corners, sped towards Skullius as Nitros flooded out of him to

create the canvas for his Territory.

The hollow shape... passed through Skullius and his Nitros seamlessly, and all of a sudden, the Hybrid Luman\'s Nitros became no more than simple white light which dissolved in the air.