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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.

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615 Chs

Calling

"General Loimos! We were not expecting you!" getting down to one knee, Tilmiel lowered her head, the champion had showed up so quickly and with an utter lack of grand entrance, she could not even tell the manner in which he had gotten there, with how nonchalant he always was, he might have just walked up at a normal pace and not been noticed until speaking up.

"I hope that mine, and the performance of my sisters were satisfactory…" although confident in her judgement and in the results the nightbirds had shown, she felt much less certain of herself with Loimos around, feeling like every single minute flaw and mistake were now so great that it ruined all that had been done.

"You did good, the west was successfully conquered with minimal losses" although losses in undead terms were not actually permanent, Loimos still made sure to discourage using this fact as a strategy when fighting.