Chapter 384 The Song Ends

Anger overwhelmed the vague uneasiness, and the desire to challenge conquered Angras's hesitation.

Just when the big devil couldn't suppress the torment of waiting and wanted to start the battle first, the false god dropped his war hammer.

It's like a frail mortal in ragged clothes facing the harsh winter, or like a weak beast being hunted by an irresistible predator.

The snow was swirling all over the sky, singing loudly about the aggressiveness and ferocity of the Lord of Winter.

The suffocating cold tortured the demon's mind, and the Undead Supreme, who was even more unbearable than it, screamed and screamed.

The scattered crystals were chaotic in an instant, and the dense falling snow was enough to block the sight of the gods.

The cold current brought by the strong wind instantly froze the demons and undead, and the helpless roar of the mortal champion was also restrained in the ice sculpture.

The silver fire engulfed the three challengers in the ice sculptures. There was no physical collision, and there was no ax and hammer confrontation as imagined by the devil. The extreme deep cold dampened their fighting spirit and made even the bravest one feel timid.

The wind and snow became rampant again, and the invisible force belatedly smashed the ice sculpture. Angras flew into the sky, and saw the servants of the Blood God flying farther away.

The Undead Supreme was stuck by the demon's subconscious swing of the axe. The two were pulled together and fell to the end of the forest in the north, leaving a deep dent in the ground.

The Ax of Terror was stuck between the bones of the Necromancer. Angras wanted to pull it out, but found that he did not even have the strength to pull out the axe.

There are no scars on its skin and flesh, and its body is still intact, but its fighting spirit has been extinguished. Its essence is trembling and wants to escape from the mortal world, but leaving is as difficult as arriving.

The noisy winter snow gradually calmed down. When it was discovered that the shadow in the wind and snow had disappeared, even the devil felt weak and lucky to survive the disaster.

Matter compresses Lynch's perception and limits his essence.

It's like a killer whale being put into an aquarium, or a bird trapped in a cage.

The unbearable weakness and pain made the lizard man feel tortured, and he could only feel some relief when the wind of magic suddenly rose.

He wanted to fly across the land as before, but the speed often stopped before it lasted long because he could no longer be free.

The closer he got to the empire, the more the weight on him relaxed.

Rampant magic distorts reality, and fragile physical laws become building blocks that can be moved at will.

It was as if the cage had been expanded several times. Although the weakness still existed, Lynch already had the basis for normal activities.

He stared at the Necromancer in the distance, approaching the enemy step by step.

Nagash struggled through his weakness, but found that he could no longer maintain the massive undead army.

The hope of a comeback has disappeared, and the lucky one is here. Maybe Nagash is not so easy to defeat, but as long as it drags on for a few days, when the greenskins completely occupy Sylvania, it will be no different from ordinary people.

The mage glanced sideways at the silent demon. If this idiot hadn't caused trouble, it would have reached the south long ago.

It's fine now, there's nothing left.

It had a perfect plan, and it executed it almost perfectly, but because of the interference of some ignorant people, it failed.

It certainly cannot be blamed on him, and Nagash is more than happy to find a target for his hatred.

The shallow mortal knight finally found the location of the great necromancer. When the tired Pegasus brought those arrogant and backward barbarians into Nagash's sight, it was not even interested in taking a second look.

Regret will not last, because death is not the end for Nagash, it has infinite time, and it will succeed sooner or later.

The scorching eyes roasted the body of the Undead Supreme. Nagash struggled to maintain the last dignity, and sneered at the lucky man with contempt.

Yes, it will swallow the gods sooner or later, now there is just one more stepping stone.

The flames moved unnaturally through the air, as if the air currents had been replaced by living fire.

Huge cracks opened in the ground, revealing boiling magma.

But neither the necromancer nor the demon cares about this little trick.

Nagash has already touched the essence of magic, the true meaning of Isil. He is not a fool who cannot even grasp the wind of magic.

Magic is just the leftover residue from the gods' play, an uncontrollable residue.

The wind of fire condensed into substance, reflecting the anger of light and shadow.

Just by looking at it, restless magic began to try to ignite Nagash.

Perhaps the Bloodthirsty Maniac has also encountered hardships, but as we all know, its master hates magic. The Bloodthirsty Maniac itself is distorting reality, but its direction is opposite to that of the mage.

The ridiculous vision is enough to scare ignorant mortals, but in front of two beings who also transcend the ordinary world, it is just a brilliant light.

Nagash calmly took out a new sword, and after the demon lunged ferociously at the lizard-man, it followed suit.

A flash of lightning separated the dark clouds and stopped it, like a twin-tailed comet close to the ground. The thunder that shook the world gave Nagash a bad premonition. It had clearly prepared for the worst.

The dark clouds broke away in an instant, revealing the light that should be seen at noon.

Unprecedented fear made Nagash look around hastily, trying to find the figure that only existed in the depths of his nightmares.

The gryphon flew past, and the flickering ancient runes of the dwarves pressed downward against Nagash's head. When Gail-Malaz landed on Nagash, it was once again blasted into the air.

The headless body fell to the ground like a rag doll, leaving only an unwilling cry and a curse that was too late to be uttered.

Lynch fought the big demon head-on with just his strength. The weak demon was beaten back by the lizard man. When a figure fell from the sky and smashed the demon's spine with a warhammer, everything ended.

At least it's over for now.

Lin Qi quietly looked at the phantom in the human war hammer, then calmly withdrew his gaze, endured the torment of the sudden fall of the magical wind, and continued walking towards the south.

"Stop! My friend, the orcs are about to retreat."

This is a direct dialogue that occurs in the soul. It is a voice full of hope, a voice that represents order and protection. This is the voice of the empire.

Lynch doesn't think the greenskins know enough is enough, and the battle will continue.

"Warrior, take a rest! You have done enough, leave the rest to me."

"In what capacity are you speaking to me? The emperor of mankind."

"I am Sigmar, founder of the Empire, slayer of orcs."

That's great, the Empire's patron saint trapped in the wind of heaven is finally here to fix the mess that should have been handled by him.

It seems that Nagash at least did a good thing - it released Sigmar who was trapped by Tzeentch, although this is most likely something that the Necromancer did not expect. It should not try to control the wind of death. Shake the "maelstrom".

But Lynch still has to go south, and he has to go to the Carstein family to collect some debts.