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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
621 Chs

Teachings

"You look awfully tired, are you sick?" Helena stuck the back of her hand against Milo's forehead.

"Just having trouble sleeping, this is all new for me" he lightly chuckled.

The two of them were standing side by side in front of an orb-like object, Helena gestured toward it.

A distance away, a few others of similar orbs were resting, lined up and seemingly cared for extensively, for they all came in their own little boxes.

Milo and Helena had finished up with what needed to be done at the farm, and had subsequently come to the city, he didn't know what he was expecting exactly, but Milo had felt like the city looked nothing like his imagination.

It was certainly better looking than the outside, but the streets were also quite filthy, and most residential areas felt quite crowded with buildings, as well as people of course, everything felt narrowed and tighter here.