Ludwig was hurled through the night air like a spear, Oathcarver clutched tight in his hands. The weight of the ultra-greatsword dragged against his arms, his muscles screaming under the backlash of [Limit Breaker]. His body was already flagging, drained and sluggish, every motion carrying that leaden stiffness of an engine pushed past its limit. Even so, his momentum carried him straight toward the looming mass of the Moonflayed King. The air vibrated around the creature, each heartbeat of its ceramic core echoing like a war drum, rattling Ludwig's hollow chest.
"EAT SHIT!" he roared, the sound ragged, half fury and half the strain of forcing his ruined body forward. He brought Oathcarver down in a savage arc, every ounce of undead strength still lingering in him poured into the strike. The blade carved through the night, trailing sparks of magic, and slammed into the King's pallid shoulder.
