Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Chapter 94: Deceit



I believe I have already made myself clear about this subject in the past, but many of my kind contemporaries seem to entertain the belief that criticising a colleague's work without any knowledge or substance, not even an ounce of understanding of the topic even.

It is truly a bizarre thing, we all gather inside of this secret tower to speak of matters relating to our good friends, the undead, and yet, we have failed to shine a light on the fact that many amongst us are dead of mind!

In any case, there is no point to the name calling, no matter how entertaining or true the activity may be.

It seems a discourse has arisen on the subject of undead synesthesia, it used to be widely agreed that the purer an undead was, the more their senses merged with one another, hearing through sight, seeing through smells et cetera and et cetera, I shouldn't have to repeat myself on the basic concept, I hope.

A great portion of the misunderstanding of the theory of the perfect synesthesia for a perfect undead lies in the extra senses, I'll admit, I believed that I had also made this clear, but allow me to elaborate once more.

Let us first admit that our perfect undead is based on the corpse of some lizard, and has thus access to some vision of heat, yes, through that particular sense, the synesthesia still applies, just as it applies through the dead one's ability to detect life, death, mana or any other energy.

Perfect means perfect, we are not dealing in approximate, the theoretical undead we are speaking off is simply a beast of perception, all that it needs is a good range for its senses and the capabilities to react to what it can perceive to be a true beast.

If you only skimmed through my writings, here is the simplified version, the perfect undead is simply built differently.

-Ohith Of The Underground Tower, 'A Brief Reminder'

Armond opened up the door after five whole minutes, time during which Loimos kept on banging on the door at the same exact rhythm, it would be an understatement that the guard was mad, he was fuming, awaken wholly by what he believed to be the tomfoolery of a group of child up much past their bedtime.

Not expecting to be met with a tall figure garbed in black and wearing a filthy mask, he didn't even register Loimos for a second, Armond had no other choice but acknowledge the undead however, the skeleton punched him in the guts without any precursory signs.

Naturally leaning forward and holding onto his stomach, Loimos had all the time in the world to firmly grab him by the top of his head, pulling him outside for a moment.

"Armond, Miqi has died and we at Alizé are much aware of what he thought of our operations, you two were rather close, try following his footsteps, I will tear you limb from limb, attempt to report anything, I will gut your wife and strangle your children before your eyes, show anything indicating that you are under threat, and I will show you that all of the previous options are alluring in comparison" grabbing one of his ears between his index and thumb, he pulled just enough for it to hurt.

"Do not answer, I know that you understood" pushed him back inside, the undead closed the door himself and walked off in the same way he came, very nonchalantly, his ways of trying to not appear too undead-like with his movements and behaviour ended up making him look like a very unbothered, but classy mad hobo.

This fact was something he for once didn't realise.

It went without saying that he wouldn't be leaving the guard unsupervised, the livings could prove rather unpredictable in their actions, he knew this all too well.

Tucking himself away in a dark corner, a good distance away from Armond's dwelling, he spent his time circulating his death force as well as doing the exercises Faraday had passed on to him, there was also the fighting style he had been taught, he had called it a portion of a style actually, but that wasn't very accurate, the metal skeleton simply believed, perhaps too much, that Loimos could incorporate the various ways of fighting of all of the gravelords.

It was true that Loimos could probably replicate most of the blood powers of the vampires with more control of his rot, but for some other, he hadn't been told what he could possibly be taught about combat by ghosts.

Time went on as it was supposed to, and the relatively cool night soon turned to a gruelling hot day, the twin suns showed their ugly maws once more, quickly eating up the streets and producing a blinding light for those that made the mistake of raising their eyes.

Loimos stood his ground, his arms crossed and looking down, despite looking absolutely suspicious beyond end, no one was really feeling like bothering with his existence, people were filling up the streets, all headed in various direction, the skin already glistening and the air filling up with the distinct smell of sweat.

It would be a good idea for the undead to learn how to replicate this smell, at the moment, he was suppressing the vile odours he was supposed to unleash upon his surroundings, only his clothes carried a vague smell of dust, he mostly reeked of salt though.

Soon, Armond went past him as well, they locked eye contact for a moment, the living couldn't maintain it, it would appear that the undead's impression of a threat had been on point, he followed the guard around the whole day and couldn't catch any sign of him being nefarious.

Apart from him allowing carriages containing drugs of course, Armond must have mentioned him to the carriers, they all motioned to him and one even spoke a bit, Loimos had inserted himself into this organisation the night just before and none seemed to be able to find fault with it.

They were either a much bigger group than the undead had expected, or those guys were wholly ignorant, maybe simply idiots.

The guys in charge of getting the drugs inside of the city were deemed to not have been granted much information anyways, they were the most likely to be caught and interrogated after all.

His short conversation with the talkative one was rather fruitful however, he had learned that they weren't members of Alizé per se, they were employed by them but were really part of some sort of gang inside the city, a blackmarket of sorts, Armond had been working with them from the start as well.

Alizé had set nothing up, simply hijacking the current criminal affairs for themselves.


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