Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead-Chapter 599: Operation Polar Winds : Part Four

"Hey"

"What is it?"

Speaking in death tongue, two soldiers guarding the gates turn their heads toward one another, the first being a zombie that looked as though his face had been splashed with acid as bubbles of flesh were stuck in place across his entire visage.

The second was a skeleton with a big gash through his skull that went right across his left eye, having seemingly been struck right on the head by a cleaver or an axe.

"Do you think the lord will do it?"

"You can't just expect me to understand what you are talking about, explain"

The zombie tried to roll his eyes, but failed as they had been melted into goop and had hardened again, looking like failed omelettes stuck in his sockets, so instead, he opened his mouth and forced on his dead lungs to produce a sigh of some sort.

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The skeleton was not impressed.

"I mean that living girl, Jiji, do you think the lord will-" making a not so subtle gesture, the zombie went for a while as the skeleton just stared right at him as though trying to see the landscape through him.

"You can stop, I got it at the first second" shaking his head, he raised both shoulders.

"Of course he won't, she's a living, who would want to do it with a living? You can't even make an undeadling with them! Talk about time wasted when you could have done something useful, like standing guard at a gate, like a good undead"

"Ooh! That's why I don't like that we are always put together- Unfunny, not a shred of humour to be found in those bones, and for your govern, the amount of folks who wouldn't mind doing it a living is much superior to what you are imagining"

"Really? I thought multiplications by zero always meant zero?"

"Do not flex your mathematics on me- And I assure you that it is the case! The two of us don't really understand because we are naturally spawned and have been enrolled by Lord Alkayne early, but our seniors who once lived have, for some, kept a taste for the 'action' part of procreation, so as long as a living catches their fancy…"

"Bollocks! I don't believe a word of what you are saying, you better back up your arguments with proofs, all good undeads that I know much prefer some cute bones or beautiful rot to some life-filled hump of flesh"

"Alright, alright, since you are so hard-headed, let's say that when she turns into an undead- Do you think the lord will then?"

"You are much too concerned with Lord Alkayne bedly matters… But fine, for the sake of discussion- Let me think about it… Do we consider that she looks the same or take on another form after becoming undead?"

"Let's just say she looks about the same, she can't get any more pale anyways…"

"Mmh…"

The skeleton thought deeply about it, the zombie looking in his direction like looking at a weirdo.

'What are you taking so long for? What in damnation could you be considering?' that's what happened when one tried too hard to imitate Sir Loimos, the skeleton was attempting to be as matter of factly as was possible, but without being a pure undead, it was a bit hard to not insert his own personal view.

"Sure, why not, if she was undead, she would be very cute, I don't really know Lord Alkayne's preferences though… An undead of his calibre ought to pay attention more to Lord Ir'Houwl or Lord Yuolrt"

"You have such a shallow view of everything…"

"Are you perhaps implying that they are not great in terms of looks?"

The two undeads stared at one another for a few seconds, wearing basic infantry armour and kettle helms, although the standard equipment of such soldiers was far greater than what the position might entail to most, they were still elites picked ad trained specifically by a minor lord, so their equipment was in no way lesser than that of most living knights, in fact, they both carried long spears whose tips were constantly flaming, their weapons having been imbued with flames of pyromancy.

The skeleton even had a heavy crossbow slung upon his back, the bolts also imbued with potent fire, although such flames were once considered a weakness of most undeads, the infernal had been tamed by the empire and was now a weapon to be freely wielded, especially against the livings of a cold world.

The 'accursed' as they were now known, were rather susceptible to flames, their bodies seemed to have become imbued with powerful frost, physically strikes were surprisingly inefficient against them, their flesh and bones resisted all sorts of damage, but the moment fire was brought into the equation, their mighty defences crumbled.

Although Alkayne's elite could deal with them even without flames, it would be simply senseless to not make use of such a great advantage, the minor lord had not prepared his troops with such a wide variety of tricks for them not to use any.

All corpses of accursed that wandered too close to the fortress were taken inside and right now, a nice little pile had formed, all thanks to the two of them.

"-But I mean, like-"

"No more of your questions and interrogations, you are doing nothing but exposing yourself as one plagued by lecherousness"

"Huh…"

Both undeads turned their attention to a living whose figure had just appeared through the blizzard, a fair bit different from what they were used to, as this one was much larger, and unlike the accursed they had dealt with, was clearly garbed in a lot of clothing, even seemingly carrying a large bag strapped to its chest.

"My friend, I wouldn't recommend that we engage this one in close-quarters combat, it has a longer reach than our spears" mentioned the skeleton, the usage of death tongue seemed to trouble the unknown creature, which both soldiers were assuming was just a more advanced accursed for now.

"Guys, we have some visit from a new guest" the zombie meanwhile, called out to their fellows perched on the wall, who were probably already aiming at the creature through the arrow slits.

The skeleton took hold of his own crossbow, a flaming bolt already loaded, forged out of durable steel, the string itself was also made from steel, the sheer force with which this weapon could fire out a bolt was no joke.

Like some sort of agreement was reached amongst the undead, they all shot at once, bolts and arrows aimed in different directions in an attempts to cut off any escape path for the creature, which quickly backed off into the blizzard, a mad howl, which somehow sounded much like frenetic sobbing, loudly escaped the storm of snow.

"I sense no death"

"Me neither"

The living had been struck, but had escaped nonetheless.