The center of the battlefield instantly became a dead zone where mortals could scarcely set foot.
The Power Sword shrieked with its Disintegration Field, carving perfect azure arcs through the air.
Every strike precisely targeted the seams in Typhus's armour. Sicarius moved like lightning, a blue phantom dancing beside a rotting Gargant, using his speed advantage to toy with his cumbersome opponent.
"Too slow, heretic!"
Sicarius roared, twisting aside from the Manreaper that carried a stench of blood and gore. He drove his sword into Typhus's ribs, then pressed the Plasma Pistol against the wound and fired twice.
Yet Typhus merely let out a murky chuckle. The high-temperature plasma, enough to melt through Plasteel, vanished into his festering flesh flowing with pus like mud sinking into the sea, doing no more than bursting several clouds of foul green mist.
Around them, what should have been a brutal meat-grinder melee had taken on an exceedingly bizarre turn.
Countless Death Seekers players clad in Carapace Armor and wielding entrenching shovels and Lasguns were charging this way like mad dogs, all for the sake of getting closer to the center of the battlefield.
This tactic of concentrating forces to break through at a single point had objectively dealt a massive blow to the Plague Legion, but that was truly only a secondary reason.
The main reason was: "Holy shit! A boss fight! A living Sicarius is dueling Typhus!"
"Front row seats! Selling sunflower seeds and stools! Hey, you with the Autogun, stop blocking the shot!"
"Brothers, I've started recording! This is an exclusive angle on the first server-wide kill storyline! For the views—no, for the Emperor! Charge!"
These players did not care whether the shockwaves of battle would kill them. Their eyes held only that epic duel.
Typhus was thoroughly irritated by these