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Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Moulded from rot and souls, Loimos is born as an undead, as a skeleton. An undead linked to the weakest category of its kind, yet, he has something no other of the dead have. He is pure. Follow the journey of Loimos as he fulfils his duty and hunts down the living with extreme prejudice and faces off with the hypocrisy of those who live in death. In a world thriving with life, magic and heroes, he stands as the solution and its end.

Ready_ · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
615 Chs

Last Warmth

All birds cleared the sky, sun still high, still burning with an intense heat, feathers ceased raining down from above, blood flowed upon the suspended village, seeping down into the ravine, permeating the bones used to construct it, dismembered limbs, belonging to westerners, to drylurkers, and to undeads.

It be a small understatement to say that the nightbirds had gotten their feathers a bit ruffled from this whole ordeal, it had certainly been a challenge for Tilmiel and her girls, but as the corvid had thought, trials set by Loimos were always fair and it had made the nightbirds actually experience in something other than information gathering and assassination, which was always something that they had needed to go over.