Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Watching the undead rush forward without any weapon, the paladin produced the weirdest of throat noises and swung his broadsword in a wide arc, resolute to keep his advantage and not allow his opponent to go on the offensive, the cold-armoured man's movement weren't that of a typical knight or warrior, there was immense weight to the smallest of motions, looking almost mechanical.

But there was no doubt about it, even on this tilted roof, he managed to ground himself properly and twist his body in the perfect manner to deliver the maximum amount of strength into that first strike, all to keep his opponent away.

Trying to see ahead the zombie's movement, already imagining his opponent stepping back and potentially opening himself to a thrust attack, as despite the weight and strength carried in that first swing, the paladin was confident that he would be able to bring his blade into the proper position before the enemy could even fully move back.

The cold contained within the iron used to forge this equipment was no joke, concentrated into a finely crafted blade, if an estoc strike was landed and went through the undead's body, the paladin would merely have to leave his sword there as the cold froze him from the inside out.

Indeed, this paladin, who was nearly always at Pope Janus's side, had a big imagination.

Unfortunately, Alkayne did not choose to step back, nor did he duck or jump over the strike, his undead synesthesia was amongst the most advanced there was, and as one may know, the so-called five senses were far from being alone, there were many more senses that any random creature meandering through the underbrush possessed.

Which allowed him to swiftly, and accurately determine the strength held into that blow, the weight of this sword amongst many other parameters, as such, he knew that avoiding direct strike was easy, the minor lord simply punched the broadsword off course, the deadly frost contained within it was but frost to an undead such as him.

This also allowed him to confirm something he had been strongly suspecting ever since first witnessing those other paladins fight and move about.

The sword was diverted, and although taken aback by the sheer casualness of that deflection and the power required to do it so effectively, the living freed one of his hands from the blade's handle, and struck out with his fist before the zombie could initiate a counterattack.

Wrist against wrist, the paladin's punch was knocked away, instantly followed by a left hook directly to his helm, leaving a dent in the frigid iron, the living stumbling back, the attack was strong but the armour did its job, not losing balance even on this slope, taking hold of his sword with both hands again as some distance separated the two fighters, Alkayne had not moved forward for any follow-up.

One might be inclined to attribute the zombie's success to the fact that he had the high-ground, and although that was certainly an advantage, the truth was even simpler than this.

'Fearful wildlife, a singular species of people having to band together to survive in these frozen mountains, a single religion practiced by all…' as Alkayne had presumed, although the paladin's technical skillset and strength were worthy of a great warrior, he severely lacked actual combat experience due to the simple fact that there was no conflict to speak of in this realm, the only potential enemy they had, the accursed, were actually under their control.

Still, that magnificent combat style, focus and great craftsmanship seemed to indicate that at least one person knew their stuff, in fact, Alkayne guessed that it was all the work of Janus in person, he was the only one who fitted the bill, where he had acquired combat experience to instruct his paladins from, was a mystery, but it was highly doubtful that such a practical battle style would arise out of nowhere in such a realm, which included the capacity to smith such armaments and equipments, it was all unnecessary.

The kalt could lead good lives without all of it.

Ascending toward the minor lord, the living swung low at his opponent's ankles and knees, although striking at the only portion of the enemy's armoured parts seemed silly, he felt like the earlier display proved that Alkayne's fist were a worse option, in any case, the frost of this sword should quickly bring the integrity of the undead's armour down.

This idea proved a bad one as another punch hit the paladin in the side of the head, even with a helm, some of the force went through, and Alkayne seemed affected neither by the toughness of the steel nor bothered by the powerful cold it emanated, his fists without blemish.

In the next instant, the zombie pushed forward, his body like tempered iron as he deflected and diverted every of the paladin's strikes, although having turned a nauseous black, the undead's flesh was prodigiously flexible, tough and powerful, he might as well have been fully decked out in heavy armour, the living could not tell the difference.

Forced on the defensive, he began using his broadsword as an impromptu shield to block the strikes, whose angles and strength kept varying enough to force him to stay on his toes, Alkayne's battle tempo wasn't nearly as rigid as his old commander-like appearance inspired, and this also told the paladin something else- His enemy was not using his full strength at all, instead using the fact that his true power was unknown to further force the living to be careful and lock him into defence.

Nobody could know if a full-powered strike would come next or if a weak one would, there was literally no difference the living could spot between all of these strikes, it was like the force of each was decided on impact, like Alkayne did not abide by the laws of momentum.

'Now!' noticing a twitch, the living thought to have spotted the telltale sign that the next strike would be performed with the right arm, and prepared to evade it all the while striking.

That eureka moment was quickly shattered as the zombie's left fist hit him the second he went for it.

This one hit particularly hard, not just in strength, but for the shock factor it carried alongside it.

'Good thing I didn't explain anything about undeath to them' Alkayne wasn't certain that would work, and perhaps it had just been a spur of the moment decision on the paladin's part, having forgotten that his opponent was exactly what he looked like, a corpse.

He saw a muscle twitch and instantly assumed it was a sign of an oncoming attack, using his own standards as judge without stopping to think about the fact that Alkayne's muscle hadn't moved at all until then, a rookie mistake for sure.

One hand against the incandescent roof, the paladin felt none of the heat through his frigid armour, steel groaning as he dismissed his sword.

Blood exploding through the gaps of his helm, freezing in the air as it fell before turning to steam as it fell upon the searing roof, bit of shrapnels exploded everywhere as his right arm expanded in size, destroying the armour there, revealing a set of bones that looked nothing like those of an arm, instead unravelling into some sort of massive claws glistening with blood and fresh bits of flesh.

'So the transformation wasn't done from the start'

On his end, Alkayne did nothing and simply waited for the cursed paladin to strike first.