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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

Carrion Bird

"Someone that has a genuine worship for a god?"

"Our young undead wishes to infiltrate Millipolo, a blessed land where belief is most important, it would be rather difficult for him to pass any of their tests of faith"

The twin gravelords spoke and nodded to another, thinking about it up until their trainee finally managed to flap his rotten wings up to their level, resembling some sort of squalid angel with his awfully arched back and hanging limbs, the form was absolutely horrendous, but this was what he just looked like when stationary.

His choice of wings was rather odd as well, chimaeric in nature, various beastly parts strung together haphazardly, having taken the many advices and teachings given to him by most luminary undeads to create the best version he could muster, simultaneously fleshy like bat wings, but also covered in dark feathers, sprouting jagged horns and ending with atrophied claws that could still definitely bore into flesh.