Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead-Chapter 998: Undeadkind Is Legion, For They Are Many

The most powerful, most destructive of all gold ever wielded by Sonnenträger- Enhanced by Golden Glow, with immaculately mimicked the oppressive might of a natural stack, further augmented by a real natural stack on top of it all, even if that attack may not be the most destructive or widespread, it was most definitely the most dangerous attack Loimos had ever faced, and would most certainly probably never be dethroned from that status.

All of this incredible might was concentrated into the hero’s right fist, this was his final attack, his last act of defiance against the many tyrannical forces he had faced in the past... Upon contact with Loimos, who poured everything in defence and resilience, standing his ground- All was submerged, flooded and overtaken by a golden brilliance, so potent that even the undead was left blinded by it.

The gold engulfed everything, every portion of the memory was illuminated by the shine of the only true hero to ever grace it all, and the only one that would ever truly be deserving of the title.

Repeatedly, the sound of glass shattering resounded all around the two combatants, every minuscule instant that passed as Sonnenträger’s fist remained in contact with Loimos’s defence, every single one of them marked the instantaneous destruction of a memory, the realm simply unable to handle such dreadful amounts of power, the clash distorted time and space itself, turning what should have been a mere second into what seemed like days, or even weeks.

But eventually, the radiance vanished, a blast sending both combatants backward, the Lithitree had already crumbled to nothingness long before Loimos hit the ground, and the world around them was that of no memory.

Their clash had reduced all of the memories stored within this realm to nothingness, and now, they were left in the bare state of the Realm of Memories, dark, flatland where the ground looked like stone, but felt like dirt, covered in a thin fog that seemed to be flowing from far above, there was no sun, yet there was a faint light, and it all stretched far away in the horizon.

There was a dreamlike quality to the real face of this realm, but no one cared to appreciate the scenery.

On one side, Sonnenträger led flat on his back, staring directly upward, he tried to sit up, but found himself unable to do more than slightly lift his his shoulder off the ground, he had truly exhausted every ounce of gold left within him, he had held the hope that performing a natural stack unexpectedly would also help him recover some energy back, but unfortunately, he had pushed himself too far past the limits, and even a natural stack was unable to help him in that regard.

Right now, whether or not he would die right here or survive, was not within his control, it was all up to chance.

On the other side, Loimos was arguably in a far worse state, similarly lying on his back, all of the rot woven around him had been blasted away, even the bits that grew upon his bones like mould were gone, leaving only a white skeleton upon the ground, but that was far from being it, gold was still stuck within and onto him, even if the energy had lost much of its strength, it was still plenty enough to lay waste to a severely weakened Loimos, his bones were partly melted, and every second, flames like never before, coloured a unique hue of deep, dark purple seemed to want to erupt and consume him, but they were pushed back as festering death streamed into him from the main world.

The golden hero could somewhat catch sight of what was happening, and he almost felt heaving a sigh of relief, those flames had also appeared and devoured The Defiler Of The Holy when he had defeating him, he assumed that this was the sign of an apostle nearing their end, instead of dying and being destroyed like others, that bizarre flame would appear to leave nothing of them.

Surely a sign that they were being taken to whatever it was they were supposed to be apostles to, or so Sonnenträger assumed.

But the initial relief slowly turned to confusion as the undead seemed to simply refuse to go, his body was melting, and the fire signifying the end kept on trying to manifest, but it was constantly pushed back, again, and again, and again, and again...

The golden hero feared the worst, but as the minutes passed, it did not seem like Loimos was getting any better, if anything, things were getting worse for him, soon enough, he would turn into a puddle of molten bones, and the flames would be able to do their thing.

The hero was unaware that what was currently keeping him from being destroyed for good was the constant sacrifice of livings to the one piece of rot left in the largest facility, all else had been consumed and expanded, but that one portion was left behind, allowing for a constant stream of death force to reach him, but no matter how many were sacrificed, it seemed impossible to reverse his slow destruction, only extend it by a few seconds each time.

Still, Sonnenträger had a bad feeling about this, gathering every ounce of strength and willpower he could muster, he was barely able to rise up to his knees before managing to rise to his full height, golden blood was flowing from his nostrils, his fingertips felt unusually cold and unresponsive.

He knew what this meant, but he ignored it for now, taking a step toward the pure undead.

"I am sure of it, I am done for no matter what... So there is no need to be frugal, I can give what’s left of my life away to make that you are gone..." he muttered to himself, struggling to take a steps forward, feeling like each motion would send him to the ground, every movements causing a splitting headache to manifest, his vision was blurry as he approached...

The small distance that separated him from Loimos felt like infinity, each step like a monumental task, in the end, he fell to his knees, exhausted.

Looking at the skeleton, he bore witness to what he had been afraid of, as suddenly, two pillars of deep, dark purple suddenly rose up from his melting sockets, the molten bones crawled back into solidity, and the pure undead rose up.

A maelstrom of festering death had descended upon him, blowing away all remnants of gold, and thus, the flames did not appear again, for the apostle was no longer on the brink.