"Even with Leoric at your side, you are no match for me!"
Raekor let out a roar like a lioness, her husky voice cutting through the air like a bitter gale sweeping across the tundra.
She was right. Clad in her own legendary set, Raekor was capable of manifesting the full breadth of the power she had possessed in life. Even if she could only maintain this state for a fleeting moment, handling a Vorusk who currently lacked his own armor was a simple task. Even an immortal Skeleton King added to the mix wouldn't change the outcome.
In life, the gap between Raekor and a peak Vorusk had never been wide. Now, Vorusk was merely a ghost. The Boulder Breaker that represented his legend had been sent into the Black Soulstone atop Bul-Kathos's brow. Even with the mountain's blessing, Vorusk lacked the leverage to face her in open combat.
"You madwoman! I told you I wasn't going to interfere!"
Leoric bellowed, only to be shattered into a pile of splintered bone a second later by a charge from Raekor that moved faster than a bolt of lightning.
"I hate Barbarians! I hate you miserable, gloom-ridden bastards who sink into madness at the drop of a hat! Every time I look at you, I'm reminded of my own insanity!"
Leoric's bones were scattered across the frost, but his voice began to emanate with a chilling, spectral aura. Having been attacked without provocation, Leoric was now officially dragged into this internal Barbarian schism. There might be men who take a beating without striking back, but none of them were named Leoric.
"My crown!" Leoric roared at Vorusk.
In Vorusk's hand, the crown belonging to the king flickered as if answering a summons, flying toward the heap of remains.
"My pauldrons!"
Leoric roared again. A spectral wind tore a hole through Raekor's resolute fury. The snow beneath their feet turned to solid ice in the blink of an eye, radiating a dense, malefic energy.
"I knew it! Hahaha! Leoric, you say you hate mad Barbarians, but you should know—you're at the very top of our 'Most Hated' list!"
Vorusk laughed boisterously, and the faint, shimmering phantasms of the Immortal King's Call set began to surface on his form. Though the physical set had been entrusted to Bul-Kathos, Vorusk's legend was never defined by the armor alone.
"HAH!"
Vorusk let out a war cry. The moment it echoed across the Holy Mountain, every Barbarian standing on his side felt their bodies grow light and swift. A golden-orange light pulsed from Vorusk's waist, carrying the shockwave of the cry to his allies.
Chilanik's Chain.
The belt, crafted by the master smith Chilanik for Vorusk, bore the legend of granting haste to all allies through a war cry. Vorusk loathed endless chasing; the belt had been forged so he could close the distance on skittish enemies. Now, that power was surging through Leoric as well.
"The scepter!"
At Leoric's command, the Mad Monarch's Scepter manifested in the center of his remains. The Skeleton King, who had been maintaining the bare minimum of power to avoid being rejected by the mountain, finally activated his full reserve. Along with his power, his madness returned.
"Face the wrath of the Skeleton King, Raekor!"
With a final roar, a grotesque, terrifying two-handed mace appeared. Leoric's body reconstructed itself instantly, his bones glowing like polished jade under the flicker of cold, ghostly flames. A massive, spectral hand reached out, clutching at Raekor just as she stopped her momentum.
Soul Siphon.
Leoric would show no mercy, tearing away the life force of his enemies to fuel his own. He swung the massive mace down toward Raekor, and layers of bone erupted from the hammerhead, binding her to the spot.
Bone Smash.
It was one of the few techniques in Leoric's arsenal, capable of dealing immense damage and inflicting agonizing pain on any living creature. It was a manifestation of Leoric's own rules of existence—it could not be dodged.
CLANG!
The massive hammer slammed directly onto Raekor's helmet, and a surge of frigid power swept through her. But it was useless.
"Disgusting pile of bones. You belong in a grave."
Raekor's voice had barely finished when she appeared behind Leoric. The Skeleton King was once again shattered into fragments by a violent impact.
"I have endured pain far beyond your imagination, skeleton," Raekor said with disdain, kicking Leoric's femur into the distance. This would slow his reconstruction, giving her time to deal with Vorusk.
Raekor would not be toppled by such meager pain. Her iron will left room for nothing but love and battle. Any other minor emotions were suppressed deep within the corners of her heart by the heat of her rage. Perhaps only an entity like Diablo could shake her resolve; the Skeleton King simply didn't have the weight.
"Come then! Come, Raekor! I owe you much, but remember—all Barbarians owe me!" Vorusk shouted.
Before Bul-Kathos, Vorusk was the standard. For ages, this lion-like king had stood at the forefront of the Barbarian path, seated upon the Immortal Throne in the Elder's Sanctum. Every Barbarian who followed struggled to tread the path he had blazed. None, save for Bul-Kathos, had ever surpassed his domain.
Vorusk, the Immortal King! He was the sturdiest pillar of the longhouse, the solid foundation of the mountain.
"Call of the Ancients!"
Vorusk bellowed, and his body solidified into a physical form. His connection to Bul-Kathos went far beyond Raekor's understanding; he could summon himself through the shared rage of all Barbarians. The more fury he drew upon, the closer he came to his peak strength. At this moment, almost every ancestor on the mountain was feeding the conflict. Rage was everywhere.
"Vorusk! I will crush your bones under my boots and plow through your chest with my horns! I want to see if you have even a shred of regret for what you've done!"
Raekor charged. At this moment, their strength was not equal. A Raekor who was effectively her living self versus a Vorusk who had only just stabilized a physical form was a lopsided match. Her Furious Charge slammed into Vorusk's chest, the jagged horns on her pauldrons piercing through his heart.
"I have no regrets! If I regret anything, it's that I wasn't strong enough back then!"
Vorusk grabbed Raekor by the shoulders, his muscles bulging with terrifying force. But even he couldn't stop her from tearing through his chest. This temporary body was still too weak. He heaved with all his might, slamming Raekor into the ground.
The ice Leoric had created shattered into a deep crater. Shards of ice flew up, slicing across Vorusk's face.
"You are dead. The dead should stay quiet and rot in their regret!"
As Raekor spoke, her armored boot slammed down on Vorusk's shin. The throw hadn't injured her much, but her counterattack caused Vorusk's lower leg to explode into a mist of blood. Much like a boxer's legs are the source of their punch's power, Raekor—the master of the charge—possessed the most powerful legs in existence. Her momentum was unstoppable because she had inherited the full, unyielding legacy of the Ox Tribe.
"Graveyard!"
The Skeleton King's cold voice rang out. A wall of tombs rose up, trapping Raekor and Vorusk together. Then came his most powerful attack: March of the Black King.
The massive war hammer swung from left to right, sending both Barbarians reeling. As the hammer reached its peak arc, Leoric's skeletal frame groaned and creaked; his spine twisted in a grotesque, unnatural rotation. The hammer swung back in the opposite direction with even greater force.
"Barbarians! I wanted revenge! But more than revenge, I find I hate your lack of reason!" Leoric hissed as the hammer slammed into Vorusk again.
This time, Vorusk didn't flinch, even though he was missing a leg from Raekor's assault.
"The mad Skeleton King hates madmen? That is the funniest joke I've heard today! I will not fall! Even when I died in battle, I died standing straight!"
Facing Leoric's indiscriminate attacks, Vorusk delivered a massive headbutt directly against the head of the two-handed mace.
If Raekor could handle Leoric, so could Vorusk.
A sound like a tolling bell—reminiscent of a Monk's Wave of Light—erupted. The Skeleton King's unstoppable march was broken. The legendary weapon, Wrath of the Skeleton King, shattered into fragments alongside his own bones.
"Vorusk, what is it you truly want?!"
Raekor's fury continued. She blurred, shattering Leoric once more before crashing into Vorusk's chest. This time, Vorusk was sent flying into the air. Without two legs to brace against the ground, he couldn't hold his position. Blood sprayed through the air.
"I died once, but I do not accept that as failure! I am the undefeated Immortal King!" Vorusk roared from mid-air, struggling to adjust his posture so he could land on his feet.
"ANSWER ME!"
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