Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

"Pitit? What the hell are you doing here?!" it took him a second to realise who it was, and it brought upon a fear greater than the one within him a few moments ago.

'Wait… Why did he stop? Is it that he can't strike a civilian even in this situation?' but no, even if that was the case, Frenand could have easily gone around her and knocked him out anyways, the undead had genuinely frozen in place, slowly pulling his leg back as he stepped away.

"Girl… I would advise you to get out of here…"

Pitit had really showed up at the last possible moment, had Frenand not been an undead, he never would have been able of stopping his strike, the momentum would have kept on and most certainly killed the girl by fracturing her hips at best, or just splitting her in half at the waist at worst.

Standing with her arms held straight, panting and sweating heavily, Frenand had not noticed her around there, a fatal mistake of inattention on his part as she was not even trying to conceal her presence, having been ignored for Pitit was not a warrior in the least.

"I won't repeat myself, move away, your intervention makes you an accomplice, don't think you are still counted as a civilian" Frenand threatened Pitit, looking down at the small girl, motioning as though he was ready to grab her by the head and just squeeze it like it was a grape. Stay connected with My Virtual Library Empire

"Y- You won't do it…"

"Huh? Are you challenging me, you midget? I'll slap your head off and turn it into a red stain on the wall over there!-"

"You won't, you would never strike down a child" she looked straight at him, Frenand recoiling in indignation, clenching his fist.

The undead clacked his jaw, the sound reverberating around the walls of the barn, it was unbelievable.

'How the hell can she know this?' he felt his death force boiling because Pitit was right, but he had done his best to not show that he had a soft spot for the underdeveloped livings, only Ourlst or the lieutenants could possibly know about this weakness of his.

"Girl, you play a dangerous game, just step away and go back to your house like nothing happened, nothing bad will happen to your brother…" Isilt could hardly believe it, Frenand was trying to negotiate with his sister instead of just moving her aside and finishing the job, it seemed like the undead was not only unwilling to hit her, but also unwilling to hit Isilt in front of her, he had not been expecting this from a foul corpse.

"...Unless you are willing to come with him? I'll make sure to put you in Alisiana's care, instead of Gunlaurgh's" no one but Frenand knew who this second undead was, but from the sound of it, they weren't nearly as nice as the other alternative.

"Can you not just let my brother go? He alone can't possibly be that much of a threat-" Pitit really grew a spine to just make demands in an undead's face, at any moment he would just leave it to another undead that did not care to crush cradles with their users inside, of which there were plenty.

"That's enough! If you insist on not doing as I say-" preparing to pick her up, Frenand could not waste anymore time just because he could not bring himself to raise his hand on a youth, but just as he was about to do it, he heard something whistling through the air.

He sensed nothing until he focused on the source of this sound, without hesitation, the undead chucked a small bead at the stacked up unconscious soldiers, also raising his hand in the same movement, stepping off the side, a javelin bursted through a pile of hay, missing the undead by a hair breadth, only that another came right after, piercing right through the lifted palm and then past the veil of chainmail.

The impact forced Frenand back, and also limited his movement as his right arm and skull were now linked by a rigid javelin, another projectile striking him right in the chest, taking him off his feet and pinning the undead against the wall.

'Unbelievable…' thought Frenand, ripping his pierced hand about as barbarically as was possible, pulling the javelin embedded in his skull as more javelin came to pierced his other limbs, which was not very effective as he was a skeleton, one with rather thick bones, but still.

It was easier said than done, it was more so his armour that was being pinned down whilst Frenand just happened to be inside of it.

"Aramap was it? Where the hell did you show up from?" shouting a question through the barn, the knight did not seem to care as he emerged, still plenty of javelin waiting to be taken out of the quiver upon his back.

Frenand gave up on pulling out the projectiles and just tore himself out of there, not caring for the armour being ruined, he wore the basic rank and file get-up anyways, it was easily replaceable.

He did not mind the bones he further deteriorated through this action either, as he did so, Aramap grabbed both of the siblings before rushing toward the knocked out soldiers.

"Bastard!" he cursed under his breath as he was met with a cubic barrier, he tried kicking it, but the recoil he received told him that he would not have the time needed to break it open.

Especially as Frenand had already freed himself, rushing the living down, positioning himself to land a severe dropkick, a devastating blow that only ruined the sanctity of a random pile of hay.

'So they did have more of those teleporting meals…' standing back up, the undead did not show much grievance despite the outcome.

Although he was honestly flabbergasted, picking up the eight unconscious soldiers with ease, he carried them further away from the farmlands, making sure that no one noticed this action, Frenand brought all of them to a designated location, where soldiers and a few knights were waiting to receive them.

The undead he had mentioned beside Alisiana was there as well, probably eager to get a look at the goods.

Instructor Gunlaurgh was the head of all instructors, who were in charge of the training of pretty much all undeads, they were the ones who determined which caste one should go to, he had not been there since the very beginning but amongst the caste leaders, he was one of the oldest.

His skeletal skull resembled that of a horned reptile, rubbing his chin in thought as he counted the soldiers, emitting a low 'Mmh' sound.

"Truly surprising, Ourlst must have a hidden talent for divination"

"Or perhaps the livings are just too easy to predict… At least for him"

"Maybe so, maybe so… But that is not amongst my concerns, I have to find how to adapt my methods to train livings" the instructor passed on finger over the whip firmly affixed to his belt, there was no denying that he was talented at what he did, but many often wondered if he was perhaps not too enthusiastic concerning his draconian methods.

"Why do you have to learn how to properly train livings anyway?"

"General Loimos is a great visionary! He predicts that we may have to lay an assault upon vast lands where the power of our truest of death is weakened or absent, so obviously, he wishes for his troops to know how to make the livings work for the vanguard, it goes hand in hand with the lessons about occupying territories… We can hardly make use of them on Belliste, the residents are not agreeable in the least…"

"...Eight of them huh? That should give me some leeway to test varying degrees of harshness…"

"Aherm, I wouldn't want to encroach upon your specialty, Gunlaurgh… But I think you could reduce the harshness by at least ninety percent from your usual methods to begin with…"

"Ah… You think that is severe? If I was truly as violent, you wouldn't get cold feets everytime there is a slightly young living involved! I would have hammered that out of you! By the way, if you want to remedy this, don't hesitate to pass by, my hands are full, but I can find some time to help"

"...I'll think about it…"