Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

The miasma made way, pushed away by the one.

The miasma condensed, wrapping around the one.

"Well, I am not disappointed, you have certainly put on some height since last time" Thanatok Ynigós laughed, his arms crossed, blond, almost golden, hair falling over his back, he seemed to have not changed at all since his reawakening as the pure living, he had just changed pants and not put any shirt on.

Proudly showing off his bulging muscles, precisely training for combat, nourished by the most pure of life forces and fueled further by his primeval vigour, greens eyes holding a vibrant glint of interest as he stared at Loimos, the two of them now standing eye to eye.

The skeleton had certainly changed a bit, having indeed expanded in height a fair bit, although that had been a phenomenon that had been occurring ever since his arrival upon this plane, the bare bones of his looked much different than that he used to have back then.

The lively presence of The First Death Hunter no longer seemed to be of great effect against him, poised and perfectly unmoving, Loimos spoke up, in the pale tongue obviously.

"Thanatok Ynigós, your previous offer has been accepted" he began, making the supreme living grin.

"Aah, I knew that you wouldn't back out of this challenge! And so soon too! Alright then, when are you setting the date? In a year? Two years?" he excitedly asked, rising his arms and clenching his fists, looking straight into the darkness nestling inside of the undead's helm.

"The duel shall take place in Millipolo as previously stated, one month from now on, the day just before the beginning of the next year, the subsequent year shall see the triumph of death over life, of good over evil!" it was not Loimos who responded, but the mitre-wearing skeleton, standing over nearby fortifications deeper into the darkness and miasma.

"Ooh, prepare to repent Thanatok Ynigós! The apocalypse is near, and its divine harbinger is standing right before you! Loimos, Chosen Champion Of Death! Divinity's wrath given form! Praise Oblivion! I said, praise!

Praise!"

"Praise Oblivion!"

"Hail to the king!"

"Hail to the gravelords!"

"Hail to the champion!"

Thanatok Ynigós grimaced for a moment, not the biggest fan of the intense worshippers of death, but something else took his attention, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he took a step forward.

"One month? That's it? Do you really think you will be able of defeating with just one more month?"

Loimos did not bother to respond and just turned to leave, the message had been communicated and time was limited, no need to bother with a meaningless back and forth.

The living grunted, shaking his head as the smile returned.

"Very well then, you better put up a good show! This fight, it's not just a fight, it's my magnum opus, don't spoil it" the two pure beings went away, one back into the barrier, the other, back into the miasma.

One month, it was an incredibly short period of time, in just one month, Thanatok Ynigós and Loimos would clash in the empty holy state of Millipolo, and the outcome of this battle, no matter what it might be, would then serve as the firing shot for a full-on assault from the undead empire, the air grew tense in the next few hours.

It was all coming much too soon, the undeads had somehow managed to take all of the livings by surprise, such a short notice before the duel also sparked worries on its own, Thanatok Ynigós seemed confident, but he always seemed confident, the expression of Maiele Liameilos was telling that she suspected something bad.

That one month period dripped with confidence, or foul play, but more importantly, there was nothing for Tamaris to do about the duel, all of this laid upon The First Death Hunter's shoulders, they had do prepare to fight off an army that was most certainly many times more powerful than them, more numerous, more versatile, unrelenting, untiring, never ceasing.

"Our only hope is for the barrier to hold, and for Sir Ynigós to come out victorious, but we do not know enough to be certain of this, we can only prepare for both outcomes…" Agilulf Wanneck spoke, appearing the same as he always did, his mind perfectly cool even in such a situation, sitting on his throne, head resting against his hand, crown hanging from his other hand.

"Rosemary, Syklon, Pierre-Ornée, Bough, you will have to remain back as you are our only warriors capable of facing a gravelord, who do you think should be put where? We need a quick force of action in case Sir Ynigós is felled, to take out a weakened Loimos, if he is weakened at all…"

He shuffled on his throne.

"...But we also need some forces on the battlefield to support our soldiers in case of a minor lord showing up, we are stretched incredibly thin, they have greater numbers than us, and the advantage of power, I require your expertise to make proper decisions alongside our commandants and generals" the king rubbed his beard, rising from his throne, beckoning his own champions to follow him as he moved into another room, leaving his throne in favour of a seat at the very end of a wide table, every person with some position of power in the military, as well as all the competent warriors, which included many people who would rather not be put into such a room.

Such as many former students of the academy, who had the chance of being represented by Rosemary and Syklon, unlike Antieeld who had to take her own seat as a valued commandant, and thus take the full role of one.

Much of the things discussed and said were about where troops and assets should be placed, how many trained soldiers they would have by the date set for the duel, it was out of the question to send young men and women without proper training, it would just be feeding the undeads more troops.
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As they discussed all of this, a rumbling began being heard throughout Tamaris, or rather, a musical sound, the furious prayers of the worshippers of death, accompanied by the stomping and movements of the dead, already stepping into position, not requiring any sort of emergency council to know what to do.

The undead king was the one leading the dance, any and every action taken by Tamaris would have probably been thought of already.

Loud trumpets resounded alongside it all.

The undead legions were ready, the Monarch Of Eternity sat upon his throne, his gravelords soon to spearhead a rightful eradication, his champion preparing for an upcoming challenge.