"Clang! Clang!"
After sending the hooded woman flying with a single slash, the Death Knight approached again with heavy footsteps.
Though Greg had no idea what was happening, he quickly adjusted his stance and watched it warily.
Yet once it drew near, the Death Knight did not attack. Instead, it stopped a few steps before Greg, dropped to one knee, bowed its head, and planted its greatsword against the ground.
"Was that gesture supposed to mean... it wanted to submit to me?"
Greg froze for a moment, then glanced over the [Dark Erosion Armor] enveloping him in a deep, shadowy aura.
"Was it because of this armor? Or rather, because of the dark-attribute magic I was displaying?"
He immediately thought of the power he had received from Nightmare.
"Could dark-attribute magic have some unexpectedly powerful suppressive effect on undead creatures? Once I got back to the Dungeon, I'd have to ask Nightmare exactly what was going on."
"You lowly human..."
A voice filled with hatred and shock came from the stone wall.
Bracing herself with her inhuman arms, Yellow Springs slowly pulled herself free of the wall in which she had been embedded. Loose stones tumbled down.
Her gray robe had been shredded, exposing a grotesque body made of withered tissue and deep-purple crystals. Several obvious fractures marred her chest and shoulders, but no liquid flowed from them.
Just as Greg had expected, undead creatures were highly resistant to purely physical impacts. The Death Knight's blow, powerful enough to shatter stone, had inflicted no serious structural damage on her.
"You seem to be hiding some... special power yourself."
With her hood gone, Yellow Springs turned her face of fractured crystals toward Greg. Scarlet soulfire danced wildly behind the cracks, hatred mingling with a fierce resolve:
"But no matter what... for