Most of Ronnel's injuries were shallow cuts across his arms and shoulders. Blood flowed freely, soaking his arm, but fortunately, the wounds were superficial—no damage to the muscles or bones. The pain was sharp but did not hinder his movements.
However, his weapon, one of the ancestral treasures, the ancient copper saber, had met its end. The sword that had accompanied him for years had finally shattered. Though it marked the end of its journey, its destruction had saved Ronnel's life, heightening his vigilance.
The copper saber was no ordinary weapon. Infused with the aura of ancestors, it was a masterpiece of their lineage. Over the years, Ronnel had enhanced it with his own aura, elevating its quality even further. Yet, during the battle with Overlord, it had broken almost instantly.
The sound of the shattering blade and the force behind it made Ronnel certain: this was no ordinary weapon.
His gaze shifted to Overlord, who wielded a strange spear. Its appearance was primitive—a bone-like weapon with a jade-like sheen. Despite its simplicity, the spear exuded a chilling aura that sent shivers through Ronnel's body. The spearhead, in particular, radiated a dangerous frost that seemed to sap the warmth from the air.
Overlord noticed Ronnel's focused stare and laughed hoarsely. He swung the spear effortlessly, its silver-white brilliance reflecting ominously.
"Hehehe... Impressive, isn't it? This is the Undead Bone Spear, crafted from the three hardest bones of my ancestors—the brow bone, sternum, and vertebrae. Each was refined over generations to create the ultimate weapon of our clan," Overlord sneered. "The strongest weapon, wielded by the strongest being! Human, even if you've sealed Sigwumidi, you never stood a chance. Your fate was sealed from the beginning!"
Overlord's mocking laughter filled the air as he launched another attack. His confidence in the spear's power was absolute.
The clash of blade and spear sent shockwaves through the battlefield. Ronnel felt the weight of the strike, his grip on his remaining weapon tightening. He remained silent, his eyes sharp as he analyzed Overlord's movements and the spear's capabilities.
The spear was no ordinary weapon, that much was clear. Like the copper saber, it carried more than physical strength—it was imbued with unique abilities. Its overwhelming hardness alone had shattered the copper saber, but there was more to it.
Every strike of the spear unleashed a biting chill, and each time it drew blood, the spear absorbed it. The blood seemed to fuel its eerie glow, amplifying its power. Ronnel's shoulders and arms, already injured, now bore frostbite-like marks from repeated clashes.
"It absorbs blood... whether it's from my existing wounds or those caused by the spear itself," Ronnel thought grimly. His hand trembled slightly as frost began to creep over his palm and blade. "And the chill—it's not just a sensation. It's sapping my strength with every strike."
Ronnel's breathing became heavier as the effects of blood loss and frostbite slowed his movements. The situation seemed dire—a relentless onslaught from Overlord and the spear's three deadly abilities: crushing strength, blood absorption, and a paralyzing chill.
Despite this, Ronnel's expression remained calm. His eyes betrayed no panic, no despair—only a cold determination. Overlord, noticing this, hesitated for a moment.
"What's with that look?" Overlord growled, his confidence flickering for the first time. "You're barely standing, human! Yet you act as if victory is within your grasp... ridiculous!"
Overlord roared, charging with renewed ferocity, the Undead Bone Spear gleaming like a blade of frost and death. Ronnel tightened his grip on his weapon, his resolve unshaken.
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