Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead-Chapter 1247: Mimic

"Stay grouped up, and more importantly: Stay close to me. I would rather bring you back to your mother intact, alright?"

Antieeld moved swiftly without a sound, intercepting the undead who just tried to launch a sneak attack–The corpse had overestimated how much the fungal mist could obstruct the commandant's vision, resulting in two scimitars grinding against the side of a sabre.

The sabre did not budge, as Antieeld took a quick look at her opponent. Analysing everything about the cadaver. It was a dusty skeleton wrapped in rags upon which mushrooms were growing–The kind that were often seen growing on the sides of trees.

"What a shame, to be mushroom themed and fail to use a mist made of fungus to attack effectively…"

She swiftly parried both of the blades, channelling mana into her left fist, punching the skeleton's right across the head. The skull was shattered into fragments, sending the skeleton backwards as the force of the blow forced the animated remains to take several steps back.

This was plenty enough for Antieeld to follow up with a kick to the abdomen that snapped the undead's spine, now really putting the skeleton's balance in jeopardy–This didn't stop the dual-wielder from attempting an attack, true to undeadkind, no amount of damage seemed enough to actually put a walking corpse to rest.

Antieeld evaded the attack and swung her blade four times, the slashes making the shape of a square… The undead fell into several pieces. Normally, even this wouldn't be enough, but Antieeld had thoroughly practised energy contamination. Her strikes just now had forced some of her inner mana into the undead's own body, essentially causing another fight to erupt, this time within her opponent's bones.

This alone was unlikely to be enough to put any undead down, but it was more than enough to immobilise them. Which set them up for something else she had practised to the point of obsession.

She muttered something to herself, performing a hand sign with her left hand, causing a solidified mass of ambient life force to shape itself into a cylindrical shape. The manifested object came crashing down upon the still bones, crushing them into dust and truly expelling the undead from the realm, sending him right back to the Graveyard for a little while–An undead destroyed by life force would take much more time to reform than those destroyed through other means.

Everything had happened quickly, and already, more figures were appearing in the mist. Most of them were the regular Rank and File, but a few were from the unknown caste of the one Antieeld had just banished. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

The commandant made sure to keep close proximity to Lizi and Griar, but the youths were a bit… Too mobile. Too eager to crush some of the vile creatures who had slain their fathers, perhaps. Unknowing that Antieeld would disagree as to who was truly to be blamed for Milo's death.

Regardless, Antieeld did not allow them to leave her sight.

Lizi, in particular, was frighteningly quick with her movements–It was especially due to how sudden some of her turns and dodges were that it could be hard to keep track of her. Milo was easier to keep an eye on. He could be fast, but his fighting style was more grounded, less sporadic. He tended to anchor himself in place and take on enemies head-on.

The oldest sibling zoomed past an undead and directly behind the Rank and File. Her first slash struck the steel of the corpse's armour, only producing sparks as the blade ground against the cadaver's protected back.

Despite this, Lizi smiled–Not because it was a good thing that the slash had not been effective, but purely because she was swinging her sword at an actual opponent. It made her ecstatic beyond belief.

The soldier turned around, since he was wielding a shield in his left hand and a sword in his right hand, the way he turned placed the shield between him and Lizi. Thus, he attempted to bash her with it.

Only for the second slash to come. This one-Strength adjusted–Went right through the undead like butter. A direct, uninterrupted line was cut right, passing through shield, plate armour, gambeson, bones, and even sword without even slowing down or diverging from its original path.

As though the blade had been coated with a bizarre poison, the rest of the soldier's body and equipment were besieged by thousands–If not more–Of cuts, resulting in the undead being pretty much vaporised into fine particles.

Undead resilience had its limits, so although no life force was involved in this attack, the corpse was sent right back to the Graveyard just like the one squashed by Antieeld.

In the meantime, Griar had not moved much, and basically intentionally drawn the attention of several Rank and Files to him. With his augmented body, he could use his own hands and forearms to block and deflect their attacks.

He sidestepped the thrust of a spear, grabbed the cadaver's arm, pulling it in the opposite direction the joint was meant to bend… With a strike of his palm against the soldier's elbow, Griar shattered and dislocated the arm before throwing the undead into another one.

The youngest child was handling himself just fine, although he was definitely not using the most effective strategies available.

Antieeld sensed the arrival of a stronger undead. The power she felt wasn't something that worried her by itself, but there was something… Off about this particular corpse's presence. Antieeld turned to face the undead, immediately finding out why this one in particular gave her the creeps.

"Well… Someone is a big fan, I see"

The corpse did not respond or react in any way to her words.

He was pretty much completely replicating Loimos. The helm style, the long coat, even the height, and stature… He was also attempting to imitate the way the Pure Undead walked, but that wasn't a perfect match. The mere sight of Loimos was enough to know that something was wrong with him. Everything about Loimos was off, not right… But this one? It was obvious that he was no Pure Undead.

He was nothing but an imitator, but a copycat with his one touch to the whole thing, nonetheless… Instead of rot woven to resemble fabric, steel, leather, and the like, this undead's recreation of Loimos's armour was made entirely out of bone. All of the articles of clothing besides the armour were made from bloody flesh and skin. Out of the gaps in his visors, thin tendrils could be seen extending onto the surface of the helm, appearing like small roots growing outside of the soil…

These 'roots' were exposed nerves, and they twitched as though still active.

The undead stood a distance away from Antieeld. Simply staring.

Soon enough, the commandant was flanked by Griar and Lizi, who were done with the undeads–Not that many had shown up in the end, but they had brought a special surprise with them in the form of a Loimos lookalike.

"What's up with this guy? Does he think he looks cool while standing there like an idiot?"

Lizi raised her sword in preparation, but did not miss the chance to insult the undead. Once again, there was no reaction from the corpse. He merely raised his right hand, finger spread wide.

Dozens of needle-thin, bone blades began forming out of thin air, each of them linked to several exposed nerves. Without a word, the undead sent them after the three livings. Each of them moved out of the way, whilst their attacker merely walked around without a shred of urgency in his body.

He performed gestures, telltale signs that he was up to something, but impossible to tell what exactly until it happened–For instance, he once again raised his right hand, but instead clenched his fist, which caused nerves to burst out of the ground beneath Antieeld, Lizi, and Griar.

Griar quickly moved out of the way, whilst the other two slashed the nerves off, resulting in what seemed to be intense pain in the undead–Which made no sense whatsoever. No sensation of pain was one of the most basic aspects of undeath. Yet, this one seemed very much capable of experiencing suffering… Physical suffering, at least.

Rather than disrupt the undead, it only seemed to make him stronger.

Griar focused intensely, attempting to get a system panel to appear to learn what this corpse was all about, and eventually, after experiencing several attacks and growing an idea of his own, a panel did appear.

It was rather bare, not even mentioning the undead's name… But it did manage to generate a block of text.

A member of the caste of undeads who call themselves 'Pseudo'. They take dearly to imitating the Pure Undead, but are aware of their own shortcomings. As such, they copy the Pure Undead's general appearance, but make no attempt at the mimicry of his abilities. Instead, they immerse themselves in one of the aspects of Death recognised by the Church of the Pale Lady.

This one has delved deeply into the aspect of Agony.

He is an avatar of Agony.