Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

I have seen my fair share of history, I have borne witness to many atrocities birthed from all sides and reaches, I know of what lays upon other continents, millions upon millions of kilometers across the sea and oceans, dreadful monsters, nations of madness, islands consumed by an ominous flame, places inhabited by beings we can not lay eyes upon.

I have gone to many places, I have risked my life many times solely for the selfish desire of more knowledge, yet, somehow, there is only one thing capable of appalling me even more than the undead legions and their rotten desires.

When I hear of a fellow person, someone gifted with reason, logic, blessed with the ability of sapience, when I hear that someone much like me in mind rejoices for the damage done to those they disagree with, celebrate the misfortune.

I can only look upon them in disgust for they are squandering the freedom granted by their evolved mind, for they can not see that the damage done to their proclaimed enemies could soon befell them as well, they do not realise that by laughing and accepting what happens to their rivals, they are only leaving themselves open to the same happenings.

So let us all shake hands for once, let us all recognise our differences but also the fact that we are all living, let us make use of the fight given to us, people of Viridis by the unreachable gods, we were granted the ability to all understand one another despite the language barriers, and yet, we haven't used it to its full extent.

Let us think freely and recognise our common enemies, those who oppose our very nature as living beings.

Let us unite, and wipe out the threat of the living dead.

-Excerpt of 'We The Breathing' by Bethome Meleme.

Loimos was thrown back into a flimsy stall as a bulky man bashed him in the side, only to also impact balls of rot, all ripe with petroleum-like blood, exploding with their nasty juices, the man, who had deemed it unnecessary to wear a shirt was doused in the malevolent concoction, his skin sizzling and sending him rolling to the ground.

"Ahahah! Crying like a little baby?" the spider woman mocked him and the buff criminal witnessed with his one untouched eye at the four, horrifically long spider legs protruding from her back, all of them decorated with unlucky colleagues, who hadn't been slain before being paraded around.

She kicked him in the face with much brutality back toward the already approaching Loimos, who put his foot up against his nape and gave it a good twist, a sick crunch indicating his certain demise.

The whole place had turned beyond chaotic at this point, most of the buyers couldn't fight for the life of them, or were too spooked to try, leading to many people just running around like headless chickens, some of them, in fact, missing their heads.

The various criminals inhabiting the black market had quickly begun coming out of hiding, but none proved to be particularly skilled or strong, no mages had shown their faces either, so the five of them were free to rampage as they pleased.

One had pulled out two odd-looking blades, somewhat similar to the one-edged blade of her ally but much shorter, lacking pointy tips and definitely bulkier, those blades were clearly overly weighty.

Using them as a medium, she was flinging flying blood blades all over the places, the slashes aimed in on unsuspecting people, cutting them to the bone.

Although, at the moment, the vampire was sitting back and gathering blood in an orb while simultaneously sipping from it with a wooden straw.

Two, after her initial storm of limbs, hadn't done any other flashy moves and simply used the length of her weapon to easily pick apart the people trying to fight back, ignoring those unwilling to combat.

Three on the other hand wasn't aiming for anyone in particular, zipping around the place without restraint, carving through masses of people, their clothes, flesh, bones and weapons incapable of even slowing her down as he mowed down the crowd all the while laughing wholeheartedly like she had just heard the most hilarious joke ever.

The spider woman, Four, was just adding more bodies to her growing collection impaled upon her extra legs, it wasn't clear whether it served a purpose or not, but she seemed to be having a lot of fun doing this all the while chewing on a disembodied arm.

As for Loimos, since he couldn't quite keep up with the murder machines in the front, he just worked to absorb the ludicrous amount of death force in the air and cleaned up the corpses, objects left behind as well as the stalls and everything they had to sell.

All of this would do good to add to his repertoire of things he had to learn to replicate with primeval rot, though he would first need to be able to grow bone structures at a moment's notice like he was able to do with his blood, rot and miasma.

An arrow empowered by mana was sent flying straight at One after someone came bursting out of the door elevated above the market itself, in fact, the archer was swiftly followed by others, all taking aim at different targets.

The projectiles were right through the vampire's head, without resistance for it had all turned into a pinkish mist right before impact, then turning back into her head, only that she had a light frown now, her wooden straw had fallen to ground for there were no mouths to hold onto it.

Whether or not they thought they would be effective was unknown, but their volleys of arrows didn't harm anyone, a bunch struck Loimos straight in the chest but they didn't even hit his bones, they just sank right in and were consumed by decay.

Moving up to the spider, Loimos mimed a flick with his finger and pointed at the archer.

"Throw me" he demanded, and the spider showed him her countless teeth.

"I like how you think rotbag!" without asking for more clarifications, she curled up one of her extra legs, Loimos point his feet upon it and when she released it, the undead was sent like a true cannonball, much faster than when he did it himself, he ought to implement a system like this one instead of his imprecise blasting procedure.

Landing an accelerated dropkick directly to the solar plexus of the archer directly in front of the door, the criminal's neck was snapped before his body could be minced up as they struck the uneven wall behind.

The two people inside the room looked at him as though he was an unicorn, sheer confusion plastered all over their faces.

Two men, one with a branding mark burnt right on his forehead and another, a barbarian-looking green-skinned orc.

Loimos went back to his feet, casually moved up to the door and closed it, turning the lock even.

"Who the fu-" the man with a brand etched onto his face wished to express his confusion aloud but both the orc and Loimos were already at each other's throats.