Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Roars of titanic strength shook the air, the constant breaking of glass, the barrier strained under the pressure of the dead, a bright light shining somewhere on the western front, great fights breaking out in between the champions of both sides, armies clashing in desperate hope, the eyes of soldiers burning with dire perseverance, or turning dull as something infected their blood.

No matter what, the living remained on their backfoot, the pyramid suffered more and more damage, it was mended at a slower pace, cracks remained upon its surface at all times, a dreadful atmosphere spreading out over the living, its center, the royal palace, something was happening even there.

Under much pressure, a team of many members, composed of the elemental champions of Starkefolten, numerous talent holders geared toward combat and other students, not the strongest forces of Tamaris, but numerous and united enough to be able to deal the final blow to a weakened Loimos, in theory.

Deprived of all energies, only holding death force meant to keep him going, his rot was no longer in control, only the one stuck to his body, in the form of armour and such, made to be a part of his skeleton.

The underground chambers filled with countless limbs and objects to help craft incredible arts were now emptied and out of his reach, battered and tattered, it was dubious whether he could even twist his bones around at all, or if he was locked in the movements of a typical humanoid figure.

A faint purple glow still emanating from beyond the partly broken visor, the last flying golem was broken as the stored spell within flamed up, transporting the one's here to challenge death's champion.

Milo, Helena, Griar, seven elemental champions, and six talent holders, sixteen against one, the odds were definitely in their favour, each had been forged into the trials of training by the strongest combatants of life, they had all advantages on their sides, landing onto nearby crumbling buildings.

For the most part, Milo did not waste any time and landed directly on the undead, bringing his hands together and slamming both fists down like a hammer, reinforced by gold, shaking the ground covered in pieces of debris and dust, the undead having stepped away at the last moment.

'He is still fast!' raising his arms, blocking a punch from the skeleton, knocked right away, managing to stay on his feet, Milo saw the undead already moving in for another attack, thankfully, he was far from alone, a strong blade of wind struck Loimos, dealing much less damage than it should have, a broken building behind was knocked down completely by the gust following it alone, whilst the primary target only suffered a scratch upon his armour.

From behind his back, Hoffnu, talent holder in the sword went for a slash aimed at one of his arms, Loimos now seemed unable to recover from damage, as shown by the fact that his armour remained in poor shape.

Dismembering him would thus be efficient, but the destructive blade did not reach its target, Loimos grabbing it before it struck him, the ground below cracked under the force of the attack, bolts shot from a crossbow did not faze him as he attempted to wrench the sword from her, which Hoffnu would not allow so easily, even if struggling against his strength was difficult, relinquishing a weapon was a poor idea.

Loimos handed up swinging her above his head, throwing her away, before taking off running, avoiding a rain of spells from the elemental champions, the ones fighting from long range were protected as Griar and Milo engaged the undead again, the latter's forearm still bruised severely, he did not take time to heal such a minor injury and instead went swinging at the skeleton again.

Assuming a striking stance, rising his foot up, Griar sensed an art coming up, confirming that the undead was not entirely deprived of them, expanding his own battle art, he cancelled Loimos's, his sabre lashing out against the stalwart defences.

'That barely does anything, I'll have to seriously increase my output to do anything substantial' the problem here was that he was already putting in his all there, it was outlandish how durable Loimos was despite being essentially at his lowest possible, was that what being powerful meant?

He narrowly avoided a punch to the face, his cheek scratched by the blow, Milo appeared behind the enemy, landing a axe kick in between the corpses neck and shoulder, the youth's incredible physique empowered by golden mana managed to force Loimos down to one knee for a moment, allowing Griar to stab the skeleton right in between the gaps in his visor; sensing his blade grinding against bones, retracting it, although weakened, his blade was chipped at the tip and traces of rust were visible after getting a bit too close to the actual skeleton hidden beneath.

Swinging his head back, Loimos headbutted Milo, simultaneously, he grabbed the living's arm before he was knocked back, swinging him as a whole toward Griar, who had to awkwardly put his blade away to avoid skewering his friend, both were thrown back.

A fireball struck him straight in the face, exploding at point blank, mana scattering in a way meant to muddle his senses, which were already compromised due to the ambient energies of life and death struggling against one another, the plants of life and death shined with light and darkness respectively, but the end result was that there was light all around, preventing a proper usage of darkness awareness.

Having been ravaged by life, his usually perfectly in tune, and melded senses were messy, yet he managed to block two blades of mana swung at him from an odd angles, parrying them with his arms, he stepped forward at the champion of sword, Msir cursed under her breath, Loimos looming over her, kicking at her, she brought both of her sword defensively, mitigating the damage as she was launched back, caught by the talent holder of shieldmanship, Menhirel.

'My attacks are too weak, they are planning on relaying themselves on the offensive, that small woman is healing those who can not do it themselves' Loimos's attention fell on Minli, although his strikes like the power to instantly kill those that dared to approach him, crushing that frail talent holder in the field of healing would only take one direct blow.

Putting one palm down on the ground, crouching forward, avoiding blades of wind shot from both Helena and the champion of wind, Forven, by the same occasion, he enacted a simple art to enhance his speed for a split instant, aiming to tackle the healer, which would certainly result into a most gorgeous display of crimson mist.

Menhirel got in the way again however, holding her ground in front of her ally, shield bending inward against the tyrannical might of death's chosen champion, one of her arms crushed into a twisted mess of bone and blood.

Cursing at the skeleton's non-existent mother, she moved her shield in spite of the injury, raising the awfully heavy corpse off the ground before he could move away.
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"You heavy piece of shit!" bringing it back down, throwing her own equipment alongside Loimos who almost dug into her face.

'Seems like they thought of this possibility' ever-so unfazed, Loimos pushed the shield away as it cracked, revealing a bright blue light, this thing was rigged with an explosive enchantment hidden inside of the weapon.