Maltorias vs Sepulchre

Maltorias sat on his skeletal throne, set inside his castle in his death realm. He seemed...bored, the Lich king thinking about sending an invasion to another earth realm.

His undead minions wandered the whole castle, a good amount standing guard at the hell rifts to make sure no invaders get inside.

(Alright, I wrote most of this post after reading your post, but I had misremembered what was written exactly, and wrote a good portion of it under the assumption that Maltorias' undead corps were standing guard outside the castle, then I went down and reread it, leaving me unsure. So, with that in mind, I ask that if that isn't the case, please tell me so I can adjust things. Everything before the "()" below was written before this whole thing.)

Sepulchre spins his head around (in a humanly possible way, going side to back to side to down), looking at the army of undead surrounding a castle within this strange realm known as, he had been informed, the Death Realm (seemingly). His three eyes blink as he stares down at the walking corpses () from his air perch high above. Creatures outside of mortal ken had requested that he destroy the owner of this castle and "Death Realm" for some reason, and while he was not typically one to simply go along with the requests of anyone, even such "Elder-Gods" as they called themselves, he hoped that this could amuse him for a time before his seal was fully reinstated by the Council [Damn them eternally to ABYSS for their needless intervention]. Sepulchre drops down, falling with incredible speed to impact the ground, lashing out with his Demonic-Energy whip at the undead and ripping them to pieces effortlessly before he kicks in the doors to the castle "Come out, come out wherever you are little Lich-King." his horrid multifaceted Pre-Eldritch voice calls out, the castle vibrating with the force of his horrific intonation.

(The hell rifts are outside the castle so it works)

Maltorias heard the attack going on outside his castle, teleporting up to his feet, his blade appearing in his hands in a flash of cold blue light. A large scythe, forged in Hell, with runes all along the blade, along with a short bladed edge along the handle that cannot harm his hands and a spear tip at the bottom of the handle. Because to hell with people who consider the scythe an impractical weapon, this thing doubles as a sword so if you get hit with the stick part, it'll do some bad damage too.

He calmly walked through the halls, not even fazed by the otherworldly noise he heard, while his undead soldiers seemed to be in an odd state of panic trying to make their way to the front door.

(You know, while writing this, I kept wanting to refer to Maltorias walking as "Striding", but when I looked at the definition, it says "To walk with long steps", and I wasn't sure that it fit, regardless of my personal internal image of him walking in.)

"Ah, there you are my little king. I have come tonight to reap your immortal soul and send it to Oblivion for all to come. Are you ready little lich?" the many voices of Sepulchre intone as he senses Maltorias approach, his tail lashing out with incredible speed and cutting down the undead rushing out in a blur before returning to its place beneath his coat. He turns to face the Lich-King as he enters the hall (where Sepulchre stands currently, having been facing the front gate he just busted through). "You know...Lichs are actually supposed to be one of my most despised entities, what with them defying the order of life then death and whatnot, but I could never seem to bring myself to care about all that. Would be rather hypocritical for me really anyway. I don't exactly shy away from raising the dead to serve myself either." he says in a short monologue, before raising his left hand and snapping his fingers. At the snap, the parts of every skeleton, zombie, ghoul, and otherwise undead entity that Sepulchre had returned to "fully dead" status begin flying this way and that, joining together behind him as four giant undead monstrosities made up of hundreds of bones and scraps of flesh that quickly knit together to form complete creatures, giant necromantic golems of varying shapes, all horrifying beyond most mortals comprehension. "Shall we begin?"

(It probably doesn't flow too well, but I could barely think of anything to write [making rather amazing that I got so much out], and I wrote this at 3:30 in the morning. This is probably the best I got in me, and I'm sorry for that, but I can't really do anything about it right now.)

Maltorias simply glared at him with a dead stare through his metal skull. It wasn't clear if it was a helmet or his actual face. "The title "Lich-king" is simply a title, I am far beyond a lich," he said. He waved his hand, attempting to detonate all of the undead beings that the demon re-purposed into golems. If it worked, they would all explode, sending bone shards, meat, and blood everywhere. He would NOT have his servants used against him. "Leave now, fool."

"And I'm far more than just the physical embodiment of Death, but you don't see me flaunting...oh wait." He responds with a dead grin. "But if you're trying to be polite and say 'hi' after all that, I don't think you understand how this thing works." he jokes as Maltorias waves his hand to detonate the corpse golems. Unfortunately for him, they had been entirely suffused with Sepulchre's personal energy and code, tying them inextricably to him, and rendering the control and powers of others invalid. "Alright then, stand aside for now my ...pretties." Sepulchre tells the golems, raising his right hand and pointing at Maltorias, a pinpoint bloodred ball of light forming as streams of the same light (Note: Not ACTUALLY light) pull inwards into it from all around, the color deepening until it has turned blacker than the darkest corner of space all except for the edges, which remain a brilliant crimson. "Goodbye 'so much more than a lich'." he says twisting his hand slightly, and the tiny sphere of blackened "light" expands and stretches forward at (What would be) breakneck speed in a brilliant blaze of power and energy, destroying anything caught in its path. After traveling a good half mile, the attack hits something that stops its continued movement, and it collapses onto itself (the stretching falling back into the pinpoint sphere) before exploding in an immense ball of "death" and destruction, expanding out towards its starting point in seconds.
(The gathering of power takes less than a second, while the release has an obvious start-up in both the hand motion Sepulchre makes, as well as the movement and flow of the attack before it stretches out, giving plenty of cue for Maltorias to GTFO. If I didn't believe Maltorias could dodge and avoid this attack in full, it most certainly would not be the first thing Sepulchre does.)

Maltorias stared for a second. Or at least it always felt like he was staring, since his eyes weren't visible. If he had any? When the sphere came at him, he seemed to vanish in a light blue flash, appearing behind Sepulchre. Not even making an attack, simply standing there silently. He was confident that that wouldn't have even harmed him, but that wasn't the point.

(I actually made a long in-depth modification to the previous post that reflected my original intent for it. I also can't really stay, so I request you reread my last post to see what's new, and tell me all your thoughts when I...well, message or post your thoughts, which I will read when I return from my day-trip.)

(Updated)

"Good, good. I was concerned this fight might end up no more than me massacring everything here. I'm so glad you were able to dodge that, it makes this such greater fun." Sepulchre says to the figure behind him as he stares at the mile wide, mile deep hemispherical glass crater that was left behind by his attack. He then puts his right hand out to the side, grasping onto nothing as though he held the handle of a weapon. From his hand then springs forth a fountain of green flames, extending to the ground, and as they fade, in his hand is a large broadsword of simple design, with a pitch black blade wreathed in sickly green fire, and venom draining from the tip into the ground where they connected. The blade was six feet long, and six inches wide, and from it rings a low, quiet symphony of echoing screams. Sepulchre lifts his arm slightly, pulling the point of the blade out of the ground, then spins in a barely visible blur, bringing the sword down in a two-handed overhead swing at Maltorias' head with a multifaceted Eldritch howl of bloodlust.

Maltorias didn't even make a motion, simply disappearing and reappearing in a place that isn't threatened by the blade. He waved his hand and a giant fist made of bone materialized from the castle wall, trying to punch Sepulchre.

(Alright, there's a couple reasons I haven't replied, one simply being family stuff, but the other is related directly to the content of your last post. Namely: Maltorias CATCHING "Death's Terrible Blade", a sword which cleaves all that is material or spectral effortlessly, with his scythe. I would like you to go to the boss variant of Sepulchre and check out his weapons (boss specific) section, I'm not pulling this out my ass, I wrote that back with the original reg for his boss form. I also didn't actually come up with it myself, I took it from the series of books referred to as "the Marla Mason series", the dagger of office, originally Death's terrible blade, cuts through everything, material or spectral, with no effort. essentially, an infinitely sharp blade with "ghost touch".)

Updated it.

Sepulchre lets out a low growl in the back of his throat, "Cute." as the fist slams into him, sending him flying away, crashing into a wall and leaving a deep crater. All across his body are deep gashes from the bone shards (and no, this is not normal. Not with how hard and strong his skin is [you'd need an enchanted adamantine blade to cut it normally]), and several large holes, through which bits of the wall behind that have impaled him show. "Ghghrh. Not bad." He says, his pinpoint pupils focusing on Maltorias as he pushes against the wall with his hands, dragging himself along the bone spikes piercing his flesh oh-so-deeply, until he finally falls off and lands on his feet. As soon as he is no longer impaled, he has obviously started healing, with bone shards in the gashes getting forced out as they close, and the holes where he was impaled closing shut, all in mere seconds. He cracks his neck to either side, rotating his shoulders and pointing at Maltorias with the sword in his right hand, his voice taking on an even more unearthly sound as he says one...simple...word. "YOU." Before disappearing in a barely visible blur of movement. A "flash" of tattered black, an indescribable sound as his sword cuts through the air in a way that nothing is supposed to, flying through right at the Lich-king's neck, looking oh-so-much like the reaper's scythe it is often portrayed as, as his eyes flash a burning starry blue full of simulated rage.