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.
Battle For Ircron : Storm Of Cold Decay
Crackling with bleak electricity, Alkayne summoned the cold winds, kicking off the ground, charging forth with rapidity at an odd angle, swinging his halberd at Milo midsection, following with thrust, loosening grip, the zombie spun around, weapon reaching as far as it could all around him, a swirl of frigid winds shielding him as he did so.
Milo lowered himself, avoiding the edge, turbulent coldness encroaching upon him as he moved forward, positively brimming with his golden mana, without a care for the necrotic lightning that had gotten onto him through the winds, neither for the layers coating the armoured undead, he struck Alkayne straight in the chestplate, pushing him back with a loud bang.