Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead-Chapter 747 - Operation Arid Soil Part Fifty-Eight
747: Operation Arid Soil : Part Fifty-Eight
747: Operation Arid Soil : Part Fifty-Eight
“That was awfully easy… I didn’t even get to get injured mortally and barely survive whilst having to keep my organs from spilling out and getting cooked on the sand!” complained the butcher, sitting inside the city with her back against a now empty house, her white robes littered with cuts and covered in blood.
“Well, I am happy that you’re safe, Meri” replied Cheops, who was sitting right beside her, having taken on a much more supportive role during the battle, he had only received light injuries that would fade away quickly enough even if the bird-headed maniac, as people called him, didn’t get involved in his recovery.
Meritites looked at him for a moment and then smiled, her teeth a pristine white as she had not gotten to eat anyone’s face in the end, her expression changed from boredom to one that the Illusory Ersta’la had seen many, many times already.
“Oh?
You really are a delicacy, Cheops- You have a way with words” she grabbed his wrist and brought his hand upon her left thigh, those two things were so muscular that they could probably pop the head of an orc like watermelon.
“Erm… You are still injured…”
“And you’ll see that it won’t impact my performance in the least, come on… I didn’t get to have much fun in the battle… I am sure you can help me with that frustration”
“Right now?”
“Right here!”
“This is outside though…”
“But I don’t see anyone around”
“Point taken…”
A distance away, Benerib peeked over a corner, and took off her mask to make sure she wasn’t seeing thing, a frown making its way on her face as the sanguine arm-bearer was quick to leave the area entirely, no way she was staying anywhere near what was happening right now.
“Absolute degenerates”
Whilst some were enjoying some after-battle activities, the defeated were having much less fun, every non-combatants had been gathered in the city center, resulting in every other area of this place to be completely deserted, a wide put had been dug out, and one by one, the civilians that were not capable of serving any purpose alive were brought to the pit’s head, forced to their knees, and executed through a variety of means, depending on the undead that was handling it.
Many were beheaded, quite a few were killed by having mana bullets shot in the back of their heads, no one but the warriors were spared, no exceptions were made no matter how much anyone might beg or cry, there wasn’t even pity for the young or elderly.
The two Ersta’las were forced to watch the whole thing happen whilst Ir’Houwl just overlooked the whole process with Osla by her side.
“Isn’t this beautiful?
So many tortured souls are finally receiving the greatest blessing of all” she said, but the two men and the rest of the city’s warriors did not look convinced one bit.
“You call this a blessing?
You are massacring them!” spoke the Prime Ersta’la, but there wasn’t anything else that he could do, he had already signed the contract, so now, he was an accomplice in this whole ordeal.
“That is a way to see it, I suppose… But you are only viewing it that way because you are misguided, I was alive once too, I remember not understanding what death truly was” Ir’Houwl shrugged as an entire family was thrown into the pits, well, minus the father since he was one of the surviving arm-bearers, that man too could do nothing about it now that he was bound by the contract.
After the last civilian’s lifeless body was pushed into the pit, falling atop the pile, the minor lord noticed something most incredible, she could see the remains decaying at a visible rate, it was only minor blistering of the skin, but that wasn’t all, small amounts of lesser miasma were escaping the pile as well.
“You there, stand up and come over here” she addressed one of the unarmed warriors of the city, who really did not want to get anywhere close to the mask woman, but had no other choice but to comply, and when he arrived, she pulled out a black needle and stabbed him right through the heart.
A quiet groan escaped his lips, and he stumbled back as the crystal needle shattered, death force rushing into his body and rapidly converting the life force within to the right side.
“Magnificent, soldiers- Gather the corpses of the living soldiers who fell during this battle, and bring them back as official members of our empire, they shall enjoy the blessing for themselves and show the others the benefit of undeath- Also gather the beast corpses we have stored and bring them into undeath as well” spoke the minor lord, deciding not to grant undeath to all of the livings that had been slain, the realm was still far from conquered, and she did not wish to have to trouble herself with negators during such an ordeal.
A lesser amount of undeads from this realm would be much more manageable, she could have soldiers monitor them at all times, and if need be- She always had the weapon General Loimos had granted her to deal with any troublemaker.
“Soldier, escort this new undead and show him the ropes, you know what to do in case of any problem” she called over one of her warriors before turning back to the two Ersta’las, who were in shock.
“I assume that you did not believe me when I spoke of becoming undead as a process that requires death? novelbuddy.cσ๓
We undead are not living necromancers who merely enjoy a tighter relationship with death, I suppose our moniker leads to confusion- But we are indeed, all dead in the strictest of sense, it is the power of death that animates us” she explained, and the Watchful Ersta’la swallowed his saliva.
“So it isn’t just an impression, you people… You truly are corpses?”
“Indeed”
“You too?”
“Obviously”
“What is the name of the Undeviginti that grants such a power?” asked the Prime Ersta’la.
‘Seems like their first assumption is that a sun like their own is responsible for it?
Well, I suppose that both their concept of way of power and divinity are the same to them, they don’t make any difference between the two and assume that everything comes from an Undeviginti in some way…’
“Our Undeviginti is simply called death, but our king was chosen to represent death’s will, and another was chosen as death’s champion… I am certain that death will gladly welcome your own Undevigintis with open arms, indeed, the gift of undeath is something that anything and everything can enjoy…”
“…Death does not discriminate”
