Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead-Chapter 632: Operation Polar Winds : Part Thirty-Seven

Winter in a realm where the warmest day was one on which you could easily die of hypothermia or lose a limb to a frostbite for a single mistake- In such a realm, the very concept of winter was synonymous with death and ruin, all of the kalt that hadn't been made into undeads in case they could be useful as living soldiers locked themselves up into their igloos, basically sealing themselves inside with reserves of food, planning on just waiting until winter ended as per usual.

With such harsh conditions rolling in every year, it was no wonder that for them to consider themselves to be lacking in food, they didn't actually need to have none, to get through winter, each and every home required a hefty stock as it was impossible to forage, hunt or fish during this period.

This time of the year was one during which nothing could just wander around, at least, it was the case for the native inhabitants, spearheaded by their lord, a large group of the undead were walking through the dreadful blizzard, the dead that weren't aligned with the cold by bearing signs of having passed from something relating to it could easily find themselves to be frozen in place if not careful as frost would get stuck to them.

Moving as a unified unit however, they made use of orderly ranks, both the empire-wide variety, and specific one fashioned to their elite group in particular, but also of collective battle arts and also special equipment, in the form of the trusty torches bearing flames from their king's and queen's glorious suns, both the eternal darkness and elven light melded and coexisted together in perfect harmony, the former concealing their presence and approach amidst the raging blizzard.

The latter shielding them from the effects of the cold, weakening the reaping blade-like gusts of frigid winds before it could carve the soldiers up, still, even then, it was the association of all these factors that allowed them to move through the dreadful winter weather with what might appear as easy from an outside perspective, but that impression was merely that, an impression.

Undeads did not complain or show signs of struggle, even if every second felt as though one of them was going to be swept off their feet and taken by the winds, or that one particularly powerful blade of wind was going to take one of their heads off as it struck them.

Unfortunately, despite King Nitok's union with Maiele Liameilos, light was still not completely integrated to the reign of death, so the torches of elven light weren't as effective as they could be and experiments with it weren't as efficient as they could be, so the soldiers were getting battered, especially those marching on the outside of their formation.

As for the knights and Alkayne himself, they were perfectly fine even as blades of wind and hailstones smashed into them constantly.

They moved forward and eventually stepped into a small area with a rather tall ghost tree, for some reason, the translucid vegetation, despite not being that tough, could handle the harsh conditions exceptionally well, this one was no different, growing fruits that looked like cherries in abundance.

"My Lord, it should be just ahead" a mage spoke, casting a spell that rendered the lead they had been following visible for all to see for themselves.

With a simple motion of hand, Alkayne stepped forward and was followed by two of his knights, this ghost tree had a hollow space within it, and nestled within the snow that had packed itself within, was the great bolt that had been fired at the unseen being back then, there were no traces of blood and anything upon it, but the projectiles was in a rather poor state, cracked with its outer coating peeling off.

Such an item of great manufacture being so damaged couldn't be solely to the elements, as it was made to be capable of enduring being heated up and cooled down as it was shot, so even if dreadful, the cold alone shouldn't have been able to leave it in that state after only a month.

In fact, it had been neatly sliced in two, so well that at a glance, with the two ends put together, it was hard to even tell that an incision had occurred.

"Keep your distance" Alkayne spoke up and along with his two knights, they stepped back.

"I don't know for sure about anything else, but the craftsmanship and hex-making are on an absolutely respectable level, can you two notice anything wrong with this bolt?" he asked, and neither of them seemed to be capable of sensing it.

Alkayne wasn't certain how, but whoever had placed the bolt here had also managed to carved the inside of the bolt with razor edge-thin spaces and stacked them with finely ground bone dust and strands of hair, managing to establish a complex hex in this manner, he couldn't quite tell what the hex was supposed to do exactly, but it was best not to carelessly trigger it.

The zombie could only even tell that something was off thanks to the minuscule space of dark between the two separate parts of the cleaved bolt, which allowed him to sense the bone dust shoved into incredibly small holes.

Snow stirred in the distance, the lord and his two knights rejoined the ranks as transparent figures emerged, appearing as though they had been left there for days on end with how much snow they required to move to peek out.

Each and every one of them was similar to the captured golem from last time, the most noticeable differences between each of them being their heads, as not all were fashioned from the bones of the same species, their skulls being the only portion that couldn't easily be reassembled into a humanoid appearance.

But there were some notable golems too, although most seemed to be aiming to make humanoids out of bestial remnants, some were instead directly carved in the shape of animals, although the bones within didn't seem to actually correspond to the wooden casing used to contain them.

"Tighten formation, shield bearers at the front, form a stationary-testudo" casually speaking his orders, he retreated amongst his soldiers as it seemed as though troops carrying tower shields appeared out of nowhere amidst the dead, soon forming a neat box, defending from the front, back, sides and above all at once.

A few golems tried crashing into the wall of shields, only to encounter much greater resistance than expected before being skewered by a spear poking out and subsequently dragged into the shield formation to not be seen again by their fellows.

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But most golems kept their distance, as though in possession of enough intelligence to properly assess the situation.