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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
417 Chs

Surprise

"In this case…" Iritim focused her reinforcement into her legs for an instant, unexpectedly closing the gap in between the two of them right after willfully creating it, transferring most of her augmentation to her right fist, she landed an uppercut squarely on Loimos, despite the blow not actually connecting with the mask itself, spiderweb cracks formed on its base.

'I'll just crush you to dust!' Loimos's head was thrown up by the blow, he enclosed both of his arms on her anyways, unbothered but hitting air nonetheless, she crouched down and moved to his side kicking up to the side of his face, the soles of her shoes digging in entirely.

It was all the more impressive considering that Loimos was a whole head taller than the priestess, yet, reaching so high didn't throw her off balance in the least, bending the knee of the leg still touching the ground and retaining her equilibrium whilst dodging the undead's sudden punch.