Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Chapter 473 Queen Of Belliste
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For the very first time in years, perhaps ever since that figurative crown had been laid upon her head, Derdlim Maulerd, once just a little wretch, a scavenger that scoured battlefields to satiate upon the corpses forgotten there- The foul little creature who had seen light in the art of feasting, who had been born without arising joy within anyone- For the first time since her rise to prominence, that crepitation, that small tingle that aches and hurts without every breath…

Fear, the excitement that arose when fright gripped one's heart amidst a battle, even the unknown quantity of The Unseen had not caused true fear to arise, but Horhir releasing this strange ability managed to do it instantaneously, smiling as the abomination that she had become rose to its full height, a mesh of all creatures she had devoured throughout her life.

Forcing their way through flesh, multiple wild dragon heads appeared, each of them converging together, focusing their flaming breath into a single one, an infernal river rushed right at Horhir, still holding the same posture he had when he spoke the release command.

Both body and armour visibly recovered from all damage first, pointing his sword at the oncoming torrent, the fire parting without any further input, Loimosfire manifested coating both arms and armaments, turning the black knight into a dark blaze, wings forming upon his back again, blasting into the air, the lieutenant swung multiple times, casting pillars of black flames all around.

'This is not like those from before…' the warqueen could sense that although it looked like the same abilities as before but on a greater scale, there was a much different quality to all that Horhir conjured, and even to his person.

'That must be it…' somewhat familiar with life force from having some in her plates, Maulerd could infer that it was death force, the death filled the undead and all linked to him was several times more powerful than it was before, and considering how he had described this ability… Derdlim supposed that it was literally some of Loimos's own death force, or at least, some that he had fashioned himself as she doubted that Horhir could even wield such a thing.

From her brief meeting with the general of the vanguard, she could tell that he walked and existed in a different dimension from the likes of Horhir.

Draconic wings exploding from the sides of the mound of flesh that her upper body was sitting upon, the warqueen flew up straight at the lieutenant, her cleaver meeting with his longsword, still undeterred from bringing to fight up close even as the flames increased in lethality, knowing that her transformation must have been oozing life force a geyser, she swung and swung, claws and maws manifesting as per her will to try and maul the undead.

A blade strike slashed her left ear and a good chunk of flesh right off, melded with her orange hair, reciprocating by tearing a chunk out of Horhir's shoulder, it was tougher than before, but she had grown significantly stronger as well, the difference in durability and strength had not changed nearly enough.

And it confirmed one thing as well…

"Seems like your Ierpalam only restores damage when first used!" landing another blow to his other shoulder, she herself easily regenerated all damage done, not only had she consumed plenty of feasts meant to specifically enhance that, the current form she had assumed was ever-changing, not set in stone for even a moment, meaning that all could be reformed at any time.

"Indeed…" calmly responding to this factual information, Loimos had indeed advised to keep it when one was either beaten down or if the opponent was simply way above themselves, Ierpalam may provide a power boost, but it also played perfectly into the ability for undeads to fight without end, forever, unto infinity…

So the first thing that happened upon usage was to restore all wounds and expanded energies, essentially refreshing the user to their normal state before bestowing them with increased power, Horhir did not possess natural means to restore himself, nor was he skilled enough to guide death force to do so, only Loimos could manipulate death freely, and only the most skilled found workarounds to use death force in spite of this fact.

"...I am but an undeadling after all…" raising his blade, it was engulfed with war's red power, in this state, no need for him to substitute it with the holy, and no need to worry about running out of juice.

Slamming the living down with this might, still managing to prevent herself from crashing against the ground anyways.

After all, Horhir had been but a naturally spawned undead until recently, even if years had passed since Loimos had made him a knight, him and all other members of the vanguard had not existed for long, not only were not all of them cut out to become incredible powerhouses, they had not had aeons to kill and develop their skills just yet, even under the guidance of the champion, that gap could not be filled easily.

Had Loimos chosen to have minor lords take his and Ourlst's spot, Belliste would already be under death's control, had Loimos led the conquest himself, it would have been so much simpler, but this was not about sheer efficiency and speed.

It was about fostering- Nurturing undeads who could step up and take charge if the regal figures of the empire were not there to do so, even if a leader was weak, it was always better for someone to coordinate the troops than leave them to run around like headless chickens.

Both Ourlst and Horhir realised that they would have to train others to be leaders as well, that they were trusted with learning… With success.

'...Losing… Failing- Would be a disrespect…' sheathing his blade, he summoned his bow, and aimed straight above himself, a white arrow forming out of the force representing conquest.

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As he released it, arrows began raining upon the warqueen… How nostalgic it was for her, volleys of arrows had often come close to killing the little wretch, the poor thing incapable of containing herself and rushing to pull corpses from still active battlefields… With the extra flesh making up her body, dodging all of that was impossible, some were piercing, some homed in on her, some circled around to strike from the back, some exploded with deadly force.

Still, even as fear turned to terror, as flesh screamed to run away, the warqueen grinned enthusiastically, raising her cleaver up, not even trying to fly back up to the undead, who was death to decide that it was time for Derdlim Maulerd to go? And who was life to decide to leave the Eastern Peaks's Queen body?

She did not intend on going out with a bang, that was for losers already resigned to defeat, it did not matter whether ungraceful or anticlimatic, Derdlim was not going to die on her own terms, because she did not want to die.

Splitting everything it way, Horhir saw the queen's cleaver, right as it struck him, shattering his helm and blasting a quarter of his putrescent head away, knocking him off balance through the sheer force of the impact, his emotionless eyes were focusing on the bloody hand still clinging to the weapon, and the life force being sucked into it.

'Really?!' from this singular limb, the entirety of the queen reformed, back to her humanoid form, growing flesh from one foot then instantly snapping it off from naught but will, she used that flesh as footing, striking again, launching Horhir to the ground in a perfectly straight line.

Rising up again, the living nearly landed right atop of him.

Now, the right side of his head had completely disappeared, foul liquids flowing like sewer goo from his brain cavity, his body and armour was in a poor state as well, his undead flesh did not mind for such trivial injuries.

"I will admit, I saw myself losing for a moment, but undeath helped where my skill and capabilities fell short- You, on the other hand, expanded too much life force on that stunt" he spoke as the power granted Ierpalam slowly faded away, the difference between them being that he could still fight with the same ferocity even now.

Derdlim Maulerd brushed away blood flowing from her nose, the serious lack of the proper amount of life in her body causing all sort of problems, not to count that what she had just done had rattled her life force on top of it all, pulling it through the air from one body to another.

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Horhir was naturally impressed, it looked like something Loimos or Nosferatu would do, and there was hardly any greater honour than be compared to those two in particular when it came to combat.

"Sorry, but I can't help but notice that you are talking like the battle is over?" she laughed "But I am not dead, am I?!"

"Indeed, I shall fix this error in just a moment… You livings refuse to accept it, but I assure you that undeath will make the Eastern Peaks better than it ever was, or ever would have been under life's influence"

Both combatants assumed combat postures once again, both rushing forth at their adversary, one strike delivered from one side, one strike delivered from the other.

Horhir's head separated from his body, Derdlim Maulerd's neck erupted with blood.

The lieutenant sheathed his blade, the queen collapsed to the ground.

"See you soon, Queen of Belliste" said the victor, hand held in solemn prayer.

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