Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Chapter 470 Culling

"Mmh?"

"What's the matter Gartran?"

Standing atop a slight hill within a wide clearing amidst the jungle, tall trees, their canopy a gorgeous dark green, grew was far as was possible, reaching the ceiling, some growing from the ceiling directly as fertile soil was to be found there as well, the sheer amount of natural resources was opulent, extravagant to the feasters, used to living in caves and scouring jagged edges in the search of food, beasts, plants and fruits were everywhere here, but the unnatural nature of this cavern severely affected the food, making it much less fit for the preparation of their meals and feasts.

As such, no one actually like this apparent wealth that had fallen in their laps as a result of retreating from the undead threat, who cowardly decided to strike at their means of survival rather than facing them in combat, when dealing with foes who refused to show themselves and spread diseases, taking a step back was only natural, or so Derdlim Maulerd had successfully convinced her people.

The majority would have preferred to fight anyways, but thankfully, their brains could not match her serpentine tongue and advantageous usage of logical fallacies, so all were here now, leaving hidden away in the guts of a jungle created by the warqueen a while back, having been crafted back when The Unseen was an intangible threat, she had prepared for her and other feasters an escape route at this occasion...

Since then, the creature had lost its mystery and simply turned to a threatening monster, but one that could be avoided, this underground jungle however, had not been left to gather dust, realising the value of what she had managed to manifest into existence, wielding the glorious feasts to shape a fool that had challenged her into a being capable of creating its own ecosystem, keeping water purified even if stagnant, capable of concealing and many other things... The latter ability being even greater than the warlord could have imagined, requiring the assistance of The Earthen Catastrophe or for The Mistborn's exceptional awareness of all water to be seen through.

Her second-in-command scratched his bald head, staring at his own reflection in the crystal clear lake, lifting his head and getting a direct glimpse of tortured individual maintaining this place, he answered :

"Nothing much, just felt a cold breeze..." not thinking much about it, he turned to look at his queen.

"A cold breeze you say? Cold? How cold?"

"Like... A winter wind, I suppose... Is it important?-"

"Destroy them!" pointing her great cleaver at the approaching enemy, Gartran slung his own cleaver over his shoulder and began running ahead, one fist down on the ground like a gorilla, pushing his fellows out of the way, pivoting as he swung his butcher's blade with every ounce of his strength, all of his overwhelming weight, splitting multiple undead soldiers in two.

'Not as much as expected... Their armour made me lose momentum...' indeed, if that was the toughness of the regular soldiers, then he would probably only be capable of cleaving one or two knights at a time.

Bringing his blade to hack away in a wide arc again, Gartran felt his instincts pulling him back, and so, he followed them, evading a red blur that smashed into the ground before him, a deep gash left into the ground, hints of a pale, bright radiance fading away.

The troll-like feaster took another step back, one needed to know to follow their instincts, and the undead that had just flown at him looked like bad news, wearing a dark red cloak, the bottom edge torn, from what could be seen below the cloak, this one was wearing an armour similar to the Loimoisian knights, only that much more mail was visible, giving it a dishevelled appearance.

Head covered by a large hood, wielding a threatening weapon.

A war scythe, forged in the style of Loimos graven scythe precisely.

"Ah ah, what do we have here? Are you the leader of this troop?" Gartran laughed, tightening the hold he had upon his weapon, eyes darting all over the undead's body, the wide cloak obscured their arms entirely, and not having a clear view of the enemy's head, even if it would not tell much, made the great feaster especially careful.

"Leader, you say? No, naught of that... I am but the temporary second-in-command for this culling, you must be Gartran, I am an apocalypse knight, do consider learning one of its four aspects when you begin your true existence"

As the red-cloaked undead bursted forward, Maulerd also moved to meet the undead, but she did not get far until her path was blocked.

A solitary black knight unsheathed his sword.