“Kill them,” he thundered, his voice so loud I thought my ears would bleed. “Kill them all.”
“A Storm Titan,” Rollar gasped behind me. “He’s turned into a fucking Storm Titan.”
With an equally thunderous roar, from thirty thousand bloodthirsty throats, the Warlock’s army charged. Their cavalry raced in two flanking arcs ahead of the main body of infantry, who came running down the grassy slope toward us, their tens of thousands of weapons flashing orange and red as they reflected the setting sun.
From the rear their war machines launched a hail of huge boulders that arced up through the air and came hurtling down at a terrifying speed. Some crashed into the midst of my army, flattening and annihilating dozens of my undead troops in the blink of an eye. Other plummeting boulders were plucked from the air by my Frost Giants, who caught the huge projectiles as if they were merely oversized balls. My Jotunn then flung them back with brutal force at the charging army, shearing lines of carnage through their ranks.
The enemy archers loosed a volley of ten thousand arrows that darkened the sky and started to come down like torrential rain.
“Shields up!” I roared, raising my shield to protect myself from the hail of arrows.
Thousands of the projectiles slammed into my undead troops, but they felt no pain, and could not be injured in the same way as human troops.
“Give them a volley back!” I yelled, and my archers and crossbowmen immediately complied.
The sky was again black with a storm of arrows, but this time they were traveling in the opposite direction. They came down in a rain of death and maiming among the Warlock’s human troops. Even though many hundreds of men fell, it did not slow the momentum or enthusiasm of their charge.
Then the Warlock himself, now a Storm Titan, broke into a charge, every heavy footstep of his gigantic feet shaking the ground beneath us like an earthquake. As he ran, he started to hurl lighting bolts, flung from his hands like javelins. Wherever these lightning bolts hit, the ground was churned up with massive explosions and undead troops were blown apart, their body parts and broken bodies hurled hundreds of feet into the air.
“Drop the corpses!” I yelled out to my army.
Every undead troop who was still standing was carrying a corpse, and they dropped these onto the ground. I closed my eyes, drew the power of Death into me like a huge tree sucking life-giving groundwater into its roots, and I visualized the Death Titan I wished to create.
The corpses littering the battlefield began to jerk and twitch as the Death magic began to swirl across the plain like a black gale. Then, as if drawn like iron filings to a potent lodestone, they began to fly through the air, all sucked by an inexorable force toward a single location. The dead bodies slammed into each other at high speed, bones breaking and rotting flesh splattering. Blackened, congealed blood sprayed everywhere. As the corpses continued to hurtle through the air, sucked in by this magnetic force, they began to build my titan.
In seconds, hundreds of corpses had fused together to create two pillar-like legs of rotting flesh and splintered bones. Then a hulking torso and powerful arms were added, and the final touch was a gigantic skull the size of a wine wagon with glowing yellow-green eyes, made of tens of thousands of shattered bones.
“The Death Titan is ready,” I roared. “Charge!”
Chapter Thirty-Three
With screams, howls, and shouts, my human allies on their undead beasts broke into a wild charge. Silent hordes of my undead troops raced across the plain to meet the advancing army in a head-on clash. As for me and Fang, the Death Titan reached down and scooped us up in one of his gigantic hands and put us through the eye socket of the massive skull, which was as big as a barn inside.
The instant I entered the Death Titan’s skull it was as if I’d become him. Every microscopic movement I made the Death Titan mimicked in real time. I looked down at the battlefield, hundreds of feet below, and saw my army surging toward the enemy army. I watched as the two separate forces, like a black tsunami and a purple tsunami, collided.
The mutant lizards plowed through the charging ranks of the Warlock’s soldiers, flinging men and horses into the air like broken toys. My undead Frost Giants waded in after them. With each swing of their enormous hammers, maces, and clubs, they scooped hollows out of the close-packed enemy ranks, flinging screaming men hundreds of feet up and back. The twin prongs of the Warlock’s cavalry smashed into the flanks of my force, flattening zombies with their speed and momentum and shattering skeletons.
“Now you will pay the ultimate price for defying us!” the Warlock—the Storm Titan—thundered, pointing both of his huge hands at me and blasting out two streaks of lightning.
I leaned back, arching my back as far as it would go, and the Death Titan moved with me, ducking backward. The lightning forked through the air where his torso had been and missed it. I sucked up Death energy into my fists, the Death Titan’s fists, turning them into Plague Fists. Just as the huge fists became saturated with necrotic power, the Storm Titan crashed into me.
I wasn’t the only one packing extra power in his fists. The Storm Titan’s
