Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

A most enchanting sight, illuminating scenery, of solace and repose, all seemed so bright, all so luminous, all so lively, flowers were blooming, birds were singing, nature was healing, critters flourish, grass was a vibrant green, pink and blue blooms, pollen hanging in the air.

Simply repulsive, blasphemy against most divine death!

All of this was under the tranquil shade of a titanic tree, its bark a light brown, bustling with leaves and life, the layers of clouds parted to show its immensity, its full splendour, all its glory.

Its heresy in this world of eternal night, a sight of pure unholiness.

Having appeared in an instant, popping into existence, growing to maximum height, scraping up against the very end of the sky, and perhaps even beyond, crown sitting upon as a highest peak.

Within all of Millipolo, much beyond, far and wide, kilometers upon kilometers, the royal miasma was dispelled, fresh air taking its place, the soils scourged by famine and pestilence were cleared of their undead outgrowths, replaced by the vibrant radiance of thriving life, populating every single ounce of space was life force, as numerous as mana typically was.

At the foot of this tree, close to its great roots, the pure living stood with his back to it, his lost arm regrowing within moments in this environment, the four riders were nearly instantly blown into particles upon its appearance, before the might of the Zoitree, Tree Of Life all that was dead shall crumble and be sent nowhere, not even oblivion.

But Loimos was defiant of life's tyranny, his death force quickly consumed as he defended himself, continuing on stepping forward even under this torrent, crashing against every fibre of his being, from every possible direction all at once, simultaneously crushing and pulling him apart.

Soon, surely, he'll be consumed as well.

His armour cracking under the burden, he kept on moving forward either way, getting just a bit closer to the living, the purple glow laser focused on Ynigós, one step at a time.

The First Death Hunter stepped forth as well, readying his fist to knock Loimos down one last time, the skeleton's only way to do anything at this point was to challenge Thanatok with an ability of similar potency but considering how recent his progress with death force were, it was unlikely that he could pull this off, unless he was given free reign to analyse it like before.

Which was not going to happen, destruction was assured, but Ynigós couldn't help but remain vigilant, there was this gnawing at the back of his mind telling him to remain passive, just let the life-filled environment brought upon by the Zoitree deal with it on its own, but then, what if Loimos endured long enough to figure something out?

He had proved to be a veritable cockroach, and had already demonstrated capacity to learn this way.

What to do, follow his instinct or reasoning? Which should prevail? He hesitated for a split second, and moved to follow through with his initial idea, throwing out a straight punch at the skeleton, the world all around turning twisted, like air in the desert, the scenery changing suddenly, finding himself in some sort of underground, the stone weathered and crumbling.

Life from the Zoitree was still present, but seemed aimless, not finding the undead to target, despite him standing right there, the distance in between the two of them, their postures remained exactly the same, it was like a space had been created around them.

"That's Ourlon's signature art!" Syklon immediately recognised it.

"He can even replicate such a personal art, and it seems like he customised it as well…" her expertise came into play as she stared directly at the art, which from her perspective, only resembled a pyramid of pure blackness, the edges of the subspace created by the battle art.

Analysing its threads of creation intently, peering into its fundamentals, it had clearly been adapted to fit the situation.

Loimos seemed to have some sort of way to produce all sorts of arts on a whim, so it was not out of the question that this adaptation of 'duel of true skill' was heavily made to advantage its user.

"Should we intervene? They are both heavily hit, we could take Loimos out swiftly if we destroyed this art unexpectedly" she remarked right after, everyone thought for a few seconds. Enjoy new stories from My Virtual Library Empire

Unable of sharing their thoughts as the pyramid shattered, barely thirty seconds had passed on the outside, judging by the state of the two champions, the fight within had been ferocious, the undead armours was bent inward in countless spots, while the living was bloodied up nearly completely, his hair of old stained red.

Ynigós's hand was thrusted right through Loimos's chest, the latter was holding a freshly ripped out eye, partly crushed in between his fingers, although it all came crashing down, the effects of the complex art remained for a few seconds more.

The First Death Hunter wore an expression standing partway in between the thrill of combat and worry, not relieved as the undead was brought under the full might of the Zoitree once again.

Gathering nearly all of the death force he had left, he held up both arms, life already stabbing right through his body, words were uttered into an incantation, spoken into prayers, spoken for the arts.

Deep within the royal crypt, sealed chambers filled with putrid body parts moved into accordance, there laid the trick used by Loimos to appear as a godly battle art user, capable of stacking movements and postures of various shapes and species, with different numbers of fingers, accomplishing so many at once should be impossible, conditions physically without possibility of happening, whatever decided of the value of the conditions and limitations put upon an art did not take Loimos as the basic for what should be valuable or not, but instead took the average, it encouraged the usage of such loopholes.

The same as conditions did with energy usage, which he wholly abused as well, funnelling everything into the creation of something capable of giving him an edge, uncaring for the life consuming him, he accomplished countless steps in just a few seconds, the fist of Thanatok looming close.

He gave up the advantage of the stacked up limbs and parts hidden away in the royal crypt, he gave up the complete amount of all energies except for death force, keeping just a little for himself, he gave up his soul and mind, he could do without them and would get it all back eventually, he just needed to earn a victory.

Furthermore, he took a pact upon himself, cutting away all escape routes available to him, and by completely taking advantage of his undead nature, of the rules manipulating the various sources of power-

He brought it forth.