Kingdom Building Game: Starting Out With A Million Upgrade Points!-Chapter 128: Wood Against Undead

FWOOOOOM!

The axe tore through the air in a sudden blur.

The first undead in its path barely had time to react—one moment, it was charging in with rusted claws.

The next—

It was sliced from skull to pelvis, its rotten torso peeling apart like wet parchment.

The force of the swing didn't stop there.

The wind stored up from the swing shot forward like a whip and carved through six more in a sweeping arc, slicing through decayed flesh and brittle bone as though they were nothing more than dried leaves.

The impact sent a shockwave through the courtyard, kicking up snow and dust, shattering loose fragments of marble beneath his feet.

CRACK!

A skeletal knight, clad in the armor of a forgotten order, raised its jagged blade, charging in from the left.

Arkanos spotted it from the corner of his eye.

He didn't even let it swing.

With a twist of his hips, he turned his momentum into a brutal backhanded strike.

BOOM!

The axe's blunt side connected with its helm, caving it in like crushed tin.

The knight's skull shattered, sending shards of bone flying as its lifeless body crumpled against a shattered statue of some forgotten deity, knocking the weathered stone head clean off.

But there was no time to stop. More surged toward him.

He slowly walked forward, increasing his pace.

The horde flooded the cracked stone pavement.

Arkanos leaped onto a fallen pillar, using the elevation to bring down a downward strike—

THWOOOOOM!

The axe slammed into the ground, and from the impact point, vines erupted like starving serpents.

They slithered across the battlefield, snapping around undead limbs, constricting, twisting, crushing. One corpse—bloated and missing half its face—was yanked backward so violently its spine snapped with a pop.

Another was hoisted high into the air before the vines whipped it downward, impaling its skull against the jagged remains of a faded mosaic.

The scent of old stone and decay filled the air.

But Arkanos continued onward, his eyes burning with mana.

A knight charged from the right, rusted spear aimed at his ribs. But the weapon came into contact with his thick wooden armor, but it did nothing.

The vines around Arkanos's arms tightened, making his limbs enlarge until they formed a hammer.

He swung.

CRUNCH!

The undead was crushed, its weapon clattering onto the fractured marble floor, just before he whipped it around and sent it flying headfirst into a dry, cracked fountain. The skull collided with the stone rim, exploding into fragments. The remaining body twitched before slumping over the red-stained basin.

The horde grew more desperate.

From the misty edges of the wilted garden beds, ghouls bounded toward him, shrieking. Their claws extended unnaturally long, their glowing green eyes locked onto his throat.

Arkanos met them head-on.

He lunged forward—his steps so fast the snow barely had time to be disturbed. The first ghoul swiped—he ducked, pivoting on his heel to dodge before slamming an elbow into its gut. The impact caved its torso inward like a rotted drum. Before it even had time to fall, he grabbed its limp body by the ankle and swung—

SLAM!

Its body became a makeshift flail, smashing into several others, sending them sprawling into the overgrown thorned vines.

Their flesh was torn apart as the enchanted thorns burrowed into them, wrapping tight until they collapsed into stillness.

Behind him, something moved—

Arkanos spun. A hulking undead, once a paladin in a life long past, raised a massive rusted greatsword. The blade crashed down—

BOOM!

The force cracked the ground where he had stood. But Arkanos was already above—mid-air, flipping over the attack.

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His axe pulsed with green mana.

Roots burst from the weapon's hilt, growing mid-swing, twisting into barbed tendrils.

As he came down, he slashed—

SHRRRIP!

The roots lashed out like whips, slicing the undead knight apart piece by piece mid-motion. The sword arm fell first, then the torso split, and by the time Arkanos landed, all that remained was a collapsing ruin of limbs and torn armor.

He exhaled, his massive wooden boots grinding against the frost-covered stone.

A crackling sound split the air.

Arkanos's gaze snapped toward the far end of the courtyard, where the lingering mist thickened, swirling unnaturally. Then—

FWOOOOOOM!

A bolt of sickly green energy screamed toward him, twisting through the air like a serpent.

He barely had time to react. Instinct took over. He planted his foot against the cracked stone pavement and wrenched his axe upward—

BOOOOM!

The spell collided with the weapon's broad surface, detonating in a pulse of necrotic energy. The shockwave sent jagged shards of broken marble flying in every direction. Arkanos was forced back a step, the impact tingling against his enchanted armor.

From the ruins of a shattered temple entrance, they emerged.

Hunched figures draped in rotting ceremonial robes, their skeletal hands clutching staffs of blackened bone. Their eye sockets burned with eerie, spectral flames.

Undead mages.

Their bony fingers twisted in the air, tracing runes of dark sorcery.

More green fire gathered.

Five of them.

The realization barely settled before they struck.

FWOOOM! FWOOOM! FWOOOM!

Arkanos moved.

He lunged to the side, just as the first three spells smashed into the ground where he'd stood.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Explosions tore through the stone, sending clouds of dust and shattered debris into the air. One bolt barely missed his shoulder, searing the air beside him as it obliterated a leaning pillar, sending chunks of carved marble raining down.

But he was already on the move.

His body twisted mid-air, boots slamming down atop a shattered statue's pedestal. He crouched, balancing on the fractured remains of a god's outstretched palm.

He saw them now—positioned behind the rest of the horde.

Their skeletal mouths whispered chants, their staffs pulsing with dark magic.

Arkanos narrowed his eyes.

He wouldn't let them control the battlefield.

His axe pulsed. The vines around its hilt twisted, growing restless.

Then—

He launched himself.

A single push of his legs sent him soaring toward them.

The undead mages reacted instantly, screeching as they fired another barrage.

FWOOOM! FWOOOM!

He twisted his body mid-air. The first spell grazed past his side, the second he batted away with his axe, sending it crashing into the remnants of a faded mosaic wall—

KABOOM!

Arkanos landed among them, boots cracking the frost-covered stone beneath him.

For the first time—they hesitated.

That hesitation was fatal.

He swung.

THWOOM!