Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Driving the blade into his mouth, the taste of iron invaded the bandit’s gullet in more ways than one, he could feel his teeth shifting position as the blade stuck itself in between them, the strange pain as his tongue was nearly split in half, the horrendous feeling as the blade reached to far it made him feel like puking.

Loimos wasn’t interested in causing pain, he quickly retrieved the dagger and slashed the man’s throat for good measure.

It didn’t seem like the rat was feeling like dying, he grabbed onto Loimos’s leg as the undead tried to move on to his next victim.

Striking the struggling living in the forehead with the end of the handle, he knocked the man to the ground and repeatedly stomped on his face, until only mush remained.

A leaking source of life force was rushing toward him, Loimos barely had time to turn and face it, a fist was already striking him straight in the chest.

’That punch is not typical’ he coldly noted before his body was sent right through the wall, his sprawled, lifeless body thrown so hard that he bounced against the ground and went right through an old wooden door, landing him in the former dinner room of a peasant family.

Clicking his limbs back in place, the dagger had been lost as some of his fingers went out of place, he stood up and looked through the smashed open door of the house he had found himself in at the bandit leader.

His fall in the well, onto a machete hadn’t been fatal, Loimos had known that since he had felt his life force the entire time, what wasn’t expected was this sudden surge of power the bald man was experiencing.

Certainly, Loimos was aware that some living experienced greater feats of strength and resilience in the face of death.

Certainly, this applied to the man, for he had in fact landed on the machete, the side of his body was bleeding profusely at this very instant, the color of his skin was ever so slightly paler than before.

But that punch wasn’t a result of that, it was a second, invisible force that had struck him at the same time this man’s fist did.

Having witnessed mana woven into magic, Loimos could tell that this wasn’t it.

’A system skill’ he concluded as he ever so casually grabbed a whitered piece of wood lying on the table, perhaps it had been a plate once, it was of now real importance.

Not only was the leader’s adrenaline rush wearing off, his body was slowly shutting down from blood loss, his life force was also steadily vanishing at this very instant.

Why exchange blows and fight? This man was going to die on his own, Loimos’s ploy had already killed him.

He threw the piece of wood at the man and ran off into the darkness of the house

"Come back here you coward!" it was rich coming from the guy that had come with reinforcements from the get-go, but it was understandable why he could be feeling aggravated at the moment.

In any case, the bandit leader gave chase without caring for his state, he probably shouldn’t have yoinked the machete out of his wound, but it was all done in the heat of the moment, the fact that he hadn’t been feeling any pain at the moment had also been a major factor.

Now that it was all steadily going away, he could feel even greater exhaustion creeping up on him.

Replacing the thoughts of his impending death with some for vengeance upon Loimos, he stepped into the home.

Unlike the old store, it wasn’t well lit, flooded with darkness in fact.

Swinging his sword like a lunatic at any piece of furniture that remained, the leader expected the cockroach to appear from the darkness at any moment, he moved fast, feeling himself grow weaker and weaker by the seconds.

"Coward!" he shouted again as he reached a dead end, or rather, he reached a small window, Loimos could only have gone there, meaning that he had escaped.

The bandit boss tried to spin around and go on the hunt but he only felt his knees wobble, soon enough, his back was against the wall as he slumped down.

In this abandoned home, he was going to bleed out and die like he lived, as a nobody.

Light shone from the small window onto his face, its warmth was quite soothing, but not enough to allow him to forget what awaited him.

A shadow was cast over as something got in the way of the light, the weakened bandit couldn’t even muster the strength to raise one arm as he sat in a pool of his own, warm blood.

Loimos slithered right back into the room, walked up to the man and took his sword from him.

Placing the edge against the top of his head Loimos raised the blade, bringing it down brutally and splitting this living’s skull in half.

Leaving it stuck in his body for the time being, the undead grabbed the brawny man’s body by the feet and began dragging him away, leaving a trail of blood as he went, Loimos brought him back to the well and chucked his body in.

Repeating this action with the other two as well, Loimos made sure to strip them of any of their belongings as well, forming a small pile next to the well.

Climbing down himself, it was as good of a time as any to try something, now that he had slayed quite a lot of people, including three bandits capable of actually defending themselves in some capacity.

His rather easy victory could be attributed to the fact that they had been fighting him as though he was just another person, had he actually been a human like them, it wouldn’t have gone so well.

The hits he had endured would have been enough to crack his bones without the protection of his rot and clothes wrapped around him.

It was of no importance now, he tried to manifest his rot powers in a way, not to produce more rot or a miasma generator, but simply to accelerate the decay of their bodies.

Loimos didn’t pay attention to the passage of the days as he tested this.