Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Chapter 894: Not Enough

Milo could barely contain his rage, he knew that he was being deliberately provoked, that much was obvious, but it was also evident that Loimos meant it, there was no living that he would be willing to spare within this barrier, that much was certain.

The undead did not budge even as golden mana exploded from Milo and crashed against him, and the living, even with deeply incensed, did not rush forward just yet.

“Loimos, you shouldn’t have come here, you are at your weakest inside of this barrier” instead, he fired back with venomous words of his own.

The undead looked much like he remembered, the corpse had not changed much since the day they fought in the ruins of Millipolo, the same helm with a cage-like visor, filled to the brim with impenetrable darkness, the same dark mantle, everything looked the exact same, and at a glance, one would be unable to tell that everything covering his foul bones was but woven rot.

Really, the only difference was that the cadaver seemed a bit taller for some reason, like his dreadful power had increased so much that his physical vessel had needed to further expand to be able to contain it, and truthfully, Milo could feel terror slithering upon his very bones, its vile toxin seeping all the way down into his marrow.

There was no cutting it, no amount of bravery or courage seemed capable of breaching this dense fog of fear, Loimos had comfortably settled in a special seat within the hearts of all the livings who had had the misfortune of crossing his path, this fright was so great, so primal that it had even allowed him to manifest physically within the barrier, and even knowing that the undead was probably only capable of wielding a fraction of his power did not help, Milo had already seen what a terribly weakened and enfeebled Loimos was capable of, and this time, he wasn’t even plagued by devouring life, he was not coming out of a fight with a being that wielded his bane.

And moreover, he had willingly come here.

Milo frowned, all that he could do was push the fear away with anger, remember that the undead who had killed David- Was Loimos.

That the undead who had slain and warped Griar into a monster- Was Loimos.

There was an entire empire of murderous monsters behind him, but he was the one personally responsible for the majority of strife and tragedies, and he wasn’t even the only one whomst had suffered because of Loimos, indeed… Was there not more to hate than to fear about the pure undead?

Milo rose his fists, a gust of wind came by, pushing the blades of grass aside alongside his hair and the dark mantle, if there was any time for him to push back his limits it was now, it made no doubt that even a thoroughly weakened Loimos was dozens of league above the likes of Frenand.

So he did not even dare to blink, knowing that the undead could move at moment, and probably at neck breaking speeds, a while had passed since Milo had faced the lieutenant, and in this time, he had thoroughly trained in every possible way, not only to provide better support when facing undeads, but also because Thanatok had said that growing his power with the god would allow The First Hero to emerge sooner.

But Loimos did not suddenly disappear, instead, he simply began walking forward, at a most regular, simple pace…

Milo frowned and made his move, in a flash of gold, he surged forward, striking right toward the undead’s head, his gold-empowered punch tearing through the air, with such power that the air directly around it was heating up.

But as though blessed with foresight, Loimos sidestepped the blow without the usage of any incredible feat of speed or strength, the living turned his eyes toward the corpse as his attack took him past the adversary, allowing him to see clearly as the gloved fist came and smashed into the side of his head, throwing him to the ground.

Milo rapidly rose up.

‘That… That was surprisingly a light punch… Is this bastard holding back on me? This guy? Holding back? What the hell?’ the living was thoroughly confused and thrown off his game by that singular punch.

‘Wait…’ and then he saw it, Loimos casually peeled the golden mana that had stuck to his fist and squeezed in his hand, decaying it until nothing was left.

“I see that you have progressed since your fight with Frenand, you might actually stand a chance at surviving a real fight with him now”

“However, that is far from enough, it seems like you and everyone else fails to realise that the gold seeps much further than just your mana, did the pure living not tell you as much? As it stands, Sonnenträger will need multiple decades before reappearing”

“What are you talking about, and how do you know-” then it finally happened, Loimos disappeared from where he stood, and before Milo could even realise that his face had been grabbed, he was slammed into the ground, the plain shaking violently under the blow, cracks forming upon its surface, as the sounds reach far and wide.

“I know that you have partially awoken your golden soul after fighting The Soror, you should have realised that something happened, and you should have realised by now that your gold could strike everything indiscriminately, be it the physical or the ethereal, so how come you still fail to notice that you have more than just golden mana?”

Lifting Milo off the ground, still holding onto his face, it was clear that the undead wanted something from Milo to be speaking this much, but the living did pay much heed to Loimos’s words, clenching both fists, raising them up before bringing to both down on the corpse’s arm.

The result was subpar, and he was lucky that Loimos could not feel disappointment, otherwise he would be very much disappointed right now.

The very instant, the pale blue plain was repaired by spirit life, Loimos slammed Milo back against it, several times in a row before throwing him aside.

His injuries were healing at a quick pace, and the farm boy did not appear disheartened by his poor performance so far.

Surging forward with another burst of gold, his punch was intercepted, and so was the second, both of his fists held in the undead’s grasp.

Clenching, Loimos began to twist, making Milo grit his teeth as he could feel his bones groaning in agony.

But swiftly, the undead threw his arms to the side, and instead went for a punch directly to the chest, expelling the air out of Milo’s lungs.

“Milo, you are never going to avenge Griar or your father like this”

“Fuck you!”

Milo was punched to the ground, and before he could rise, Loimos pressed his knees upon the living’s arms.

And began repeatedly punching.