Chapter 41: Dark Saint
{2/4}
The two forces watched each other carefully, inspecting every movement made by the other. Guram still sat on his throne, his form appearing defenseless and weak as he remained seated, but Drake knew better than to fall for his devious scam. He stood there cautiously, studying the enemy with sharp eyes.
’If it were a normal beast or boss, it would have attacked mindlessly, leaving numerous openings. But this one is different—it’s smart, deliberately trying to lure me out. Just as I’m studying it and waiting for the perfect moment to strike, it’s doing the same, goading me to reveal what I’m capable of.’
For this battle, Drake treated Guram as a human-like threat. With the Stone Minotaur and its thick armor gone, he had no protection left. The other undead warriors had no chance of serving as meat shields anymore.
’I guess I have to...’
Drake’s eyes flickered in shock, his heart pounding as his instincts screamed. He sidestepped just in time as he watched Guram spring from his throne with tremendous force, his massive fist aimed straight to crush him in one blow.
Luckily, Drake barely avoided the attack, leaving Guram’s punch to lodge deep into the tiled flooring with a small explosion of dust and debris.
Seeing an opening, Drake wasted no time. He swung his dagger down at the massive creature’s hind neck. The attack was swift, landing cleanly on the Crater King’s thick skin—but instead of cutting through, the dagger merely sparked off its hide.
"Shit!" Drake grunted.
By then, Guram had already recovered, swinging his arm upward in a deadly shoulder strike aimed at Drake’s face—a hit that would have surely killed him.
However, Drake quickly summoned two of his undead legion before him to take the blow, redirecting the immense force just enough for him to leap back safely.
{You have lost an undead}
{You have lost an undead}
His evasive move worked—the fist missed him by mere inches. An inch closer would have meant death.
’Damn, I can’t take any of these hits, and each one’s faster than the last. I have to stick to the plan... I need to overwhelm him and study his weaknesses,’ Drake thought, dropping his two daggers to the ground. They were useless against such hide.
Stretching out his hands, a dark pool formed around him. From its depths rose countless monsters—twisted and repulsive creatures of varying sizes, each one more grotesque than the last. An army of over thirty undead beasts charged forward to swarm the Crater King.
"How glorious!" Guram roared in excitement, bending to seize his massive battle-axe before charging headlong into the horde. His first swing cleaved through several monsters at once; his next bite ripped another’s head apart with gruesome ease.
Again and again, the Crater King tore through the undead army as though they were nothing but dust before him.
{You have lost an...}
{You have lost an...}
The notifications continued in a dreadful rhythm—each one marking another fallen soldier. Drake simply watched, doing his best to study the monster’s every motion, knowing that once his army was gone... he would be next.
The Cohort, no longer under the intoxicating pressure ever since Guram had left his throne, watched in awe. The Crater King’s power was suffocating—terrifying yet majestic in a grim, gruesome way.
They knew they stood no chance. Had they been in the place of Drake’s army, they would have been annihilated.
Blake trembled as he watched. ’If he fails... we’re all dead.’
Meanwhile, Guram split the last undead cleanly in half, its two sides collapsing and dissolving into nothing.
{Your undead have been extinguished.}
{Time till reuse: 1 day}
Drake dismissed the notifications with a sigh. His undead army wasn’t strong enough for battles like this. Given how weak his current legion was, this outcome was expected.
He steadied his gaze on Guram, who stood laughing manically, eyes glowing with frenzied joy. The beast seemed to relish every moment of the battle like a deranged predator. With his level of intelligence, Drake had expected more restraint—but clearly, Guram thrived on chaos.
"No more trinkets! Fight me one-on-one, man!" Guram bellowed, spreading his arms wide and exposing several openings, as if taunting Drake to strike.
Drake shook his head. Darkness swirled around him once again, but this time, instead of a horde of monsters, three colossal dragons rose behind him, their presence warping the air itself. "I’ll finish this quickly."
Guram froze for a moment, narrowing his eyes before letting out a thunderous, mocking laugh. "Even with three dragons, do you think you can defeat me?"
Drake said nothing. He clenched his fists, widened his stance, and inhaled deeply—then exhaled sharply. In that instant, something strange occurred.
From his temples, two jagged horns erupted, curving upward. His black hair shifted to a deep green hue, his irises burned yellow, and his skin shimmered faintly with scales—barely visible, but undeniably there.
{Draconic Body: Stage 1 has been successfully activated}
This was a significant leap—an ascension beyond his previous limits. Drake could feel it, the overwhelming surge of power coursing through his body. It was intoxicating.
He wasn’t the only one to notice. Guram, too, sensed it—the sudden pressure, the shift in dominance. With a roar, the monstrous king lunged forward at incredible speed... yet Drake could now follow every movement with ease. No, he was faster.
Instead of waiting, Drake charged straight at him, closing the gap in a heartbeat. His fist swung forward, smashing toward Guram’s gut.
Guram, startled by the new speed, raised his axe just in time to block—yet the sheer force nearly tore the weapon from his grip.
"Hmmm?" he growled, straining to hold on.
But Drake wasn’t done. Behind him, all three dragons unleashed torrents of fireballs. Guram managed to deflect one with his axe and dodge the next two by leaping backward.
Drake gave him no respite. He rushed in again, raining a storm of punches and kicks, his speed and strength now overwhelming. Guram struggled to parry and counter each one, swinging his axe desperately for breathing room, but every time he did, another fireball came.
Forced onto the defensive, he blocked two blasts—but the third slammed into his side, scorching his armor.
"KAAAYAAAHK!" Guram shrieked, stumbling backward as molten metal fused with his flesh. The agony was unbearable.
That brief daze marked his downfall.
Drake lunged forward with blinding speed. He grabbed Guram’s weapon arm, then slammed his elbow into the his chest plate with such force that the armor cracked and Guram staggered.
Drake seized the axe from Guram’s weakened grasp, gripping it tightly with both hands, and thrust it forward for the finishing strike.
It was swift—but not quite fast enough. Guram twisted away, the axe grazing his throat by a mere breath.
He thought he had escaped. Unfortunately, he hadn’t.
A searing ball of fire tore through the air, meeting him mid-leap. It struck his face directly—melting it into a grotesque, deformed mess within seconds. Guram screamed, the sound fading as flames devoured his throat.
Only then did he realize the truth—he had fallen for Drake’s trap.
Drake had never intended to kill him with his own hands, He was merely the distraction and his dragons were the executioners.
He had been played.
Guram bared his charred fangs, growling hoarsely, "Y—you bastard!"
He stumbled forward, each step weaker than the last, his body trembling, barely clinging to life. Finally, he collapsed—falling into a pitiful crawl before going completely still.
He was dead.
Drake let out a long sigh of relief, the horns retreating into his temples, his eyes and hair fading back to normal. His knees buckled, and he dropped to his side, utterly exhausted.
’If the battle had dragged on any longer... I would have lost,’ he thought with a faint, tired smile.
{Congratulations, user. You have completed the quest.}
{Title received.}
{Title: Dark Saint}