The candlestick had been knocked over by the massive movement in the study, and the still-burning flame ignited the curtains. The once-dim interior now glowed orange and red.
The knights who had rushed to their general's aid were stunned. Instead of dispatching the assassin with a single blow as usual, they found their commander wounded.
What kind of terrifying enemy is this? Even our general has suffered such losses?
Then one of the captains reacted. He waved his hand and shouted, "Why are you still stunned? Shoot arrows at that assassin! Cover the general's retreat!"
The nearby knights snapped out of their daze, raised their crossbows, and loaded bolts.
"Get out!" Persian, covering his bleeding face, roared in anger. "Don't interfere! I'll deal with this bastard myself!"
Boscogn straightened up and removed his hand from his face, revealing his gruesome, blood-slashed visage. His teeth were clenched, blood streaming into his mouth, pooling in the gaps between his teeth like an ogre.
He reached up and actually tore away the mangled flesh from his right eye socket, tossing it to the ground as if it meant nothing. He ground it under his foot, then fixed his remaining left eye—and his empty right socket—on Nidhogg. The sight was terrifying.
The sheer force of his presence silenced the knights. No one dared speak or make an unnecessary move.
Nidhogg didn't care. If those knights joined the encirclement, things would get complicated. But this situation—Persian insisting on one-on-one combat—saved him a lot of trouble when he had decided to kill Boscogn.
As for the eye gouging, it couldn't frighten Nidhogg. He had spent years on battlefields of corpses and blood.
Seizing the brief pause in the fight, he produced his Flask of Crimson & Cerulean Tears. He took a sip of Crimson Tears, then a sip of Cerulean Tears, restoring both health and focus.
CRASH!
At that moment, Persian suddenly attacked. He charged at Nidhogg with explosive speed.
His battle-axe dragged behind him, screaming across the floor. His whole body crashed toward Nidhogg like a siege tower!
Nidhogg calmly retreated, storing his flask in his brand, always keeping distance from Boscogn.
Just then, the fallen candlestick had fully ignited the curtains. The orange-red flames now spread like a giant python, rapidly consuming every flammable object in the study. A raging wall of fire rose behind Nidhogg.
With no room to retreat, Nidhogg decisively moved forward, seeking to seize the rhythm of attack and defense.
Boscogn, mad with rage, refused to let Nidhogg have his way.
Just as Nidhogg lunged, Boscogn smiled. He leaped into the air, raised his axe, and brought it down like a mountain!
Fast. Precise. Ruthless. Combined with Nidhogg's limited space to maneuver, it was unavoidable. So Nidhogg used his skill again—Stamp (Upward Cut)!
CRASH!
Sword and axe clashed. The explosive whirlwind momentarily blew back the surrounding flames. Stone tiles shattered. Fragments of wood and stone sprayed everywhere. Both combatants shook from the impact!
In that contest of strength, which seemed to last an eternity but was over in a finger snap, Nidhogg was thrown back by the force of Persian's second strike. He hit the floor and slid.
Boscogn himself was exhausted for a moment. He crashed heavily to one knee, gripping his axe with both hands, panting raggedly.
But he was extremely satisfied. He looked at Nidhogg with pride, knowing that move would surely injure his opponent.
Indeed, Nidhogg rose and spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground.
But when he looked up, his eyes were still unwavering.
On the other hand, his Lordsworn's Greatsword had been damaged by that powerful blow, just like his brass shield. Another such strike, and it would likely break.
And now, he had no time to let his greatsword repair itself.
So either he would win on the next exchange, or he would have to switch to a backup weapon.
CRACKLE—
The fire in the study intensified, climbing the walls like fiery serpents, gradually encircling them both, forming an unexpected "arena of death."
"General!"
More and more knights gathered outside the building, but without Boscogn's order, they dared not enter the study. They could only try to douse the flames from outside.
Now, with the fire growing out of control and the study threatening to collapse, a captain had to call out a warning.
Boscogn didn't hear. After resting briefly, he grabbed his axe, pushed aside a burning tapestry that fell before him, and advanced on Nidhogg.
Nidhogg drank more Crimson and Cerulean Tears, restoring himself. He exhaled slowly and held his ground, eyes locked on Boscogn.
"You have so many tricks. Seems you've finished some circus performance, haven't you?" Persian said coldly. "As I said, in the face of absolute power, your tricks are meaningless!"
Nidhogg smiled and didn't explain.
He simply whistled. The golden ring on his finger summoned the horned spirit steed from nowhere. Torrent materialized, whinnying at Nidhogg.
"I know, I know!" Nidhogg vaulted onto the horse, gripping his damaged greatsword, and squeezed his legs. "See that bald head? After we kill him, I'll let you run as much as you want! I'll ride you across the whole city!"
Torrent whinnied again, excited. He reared, then charged at Boscogn.
Boscogn was stunned. He had said Nidhogg wouldn't frighten him even if he summoned a Kushan war elephant, but seeing him summon a warhorse was still shocking.
Especially for a cavalry general like himself. He knew that having a horse or not made all the difference in battle. The horseless side was at a clear disadvantage.
Then I'll deal with the horse first!
Boscogn narrowed his eye and stood his ground, axe ready.
Only when Torrent closed the distance did Boscogn reveal a terrifying, malevolent smile. He swung his axe at the horse's head!
Decapitate the horse!
At that moment, another whistle sounded!
Torrent suddenly dissolved into white light and vanished. Boscogn's axe swung through empty air. His eye widened in shock.
Nidhogg, having anticipated exactly this, had recalled Torrent the moment Boscogn raised his axe. He himself leaped to the ground, landing in a crouch right before Boscogn.
Boscogn's heart jolted. He didn't care anymore—he brought his axe down!
But Nidhogg, seizing the moment, had already broken into the axe's range. He decisively raised his damaged Lordsworn's Greatsword and used his skill for the third time.
Stamp (Upward Cut)!
SCHLING—!
The greatsword scraped against Boscogn's armor, grinding upward, showering sparks. The blade's shockwave lifted Boscogn involuntarily, and the tip carved along the old wound on his face!
FWOOSH—!
This time, Boscogn wasn't as lucky as before.
The greatsword split the front half of his head in two. His remaining eye was crushed. Brain matter, flesh, and blood erupted visibly.
A moment later, the giant general's corpse crashed to the ground with a thunderous thud.
The bloody battle in the flames was over.