Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead
Chapter 846 - 846: The Headhunter In White

The silence was almost tangible.

Milo had sensed to something felt familiar, but what he was witnessing went far beyond anything that could have been born of his imagination, the headless's cape fluttered in the breeze, the circle of blue, signature move of an old friend that should no longer be- The manifestation of a most powerful affinity for swordsmanship, indeed.

Even if Milo would like to deny the possibility, who else could wield this unique battle art so perfectly? And anyways… He could very clearly recognise the corpse's energy signature, it had been corrupted, it had been warped far from what it once was, but the truth remained crystal clear nonetheless.

This was Griar, the man who had left a strong enough impression upon Milo, so much so that he had named his son after him- His remains had been left behind in Tamaris, the method by which they had all been transported to the Emerald Realm had not worked on those whose life had already been depleted.

It was to be expected, in fact, Milo should have already known that this would have happened, the undeads were not known for respecting the corpses of enemies after all, but it was still a shock.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh… What's with the cold tone, Milo? Are you not happy to see me well?" the headhunter dispelled the blue circle, sabre vanishing into a haze of purple mist, his voice simultaneously coming from within his chest, and from the forest surrounding them both.

The whistling and whispers had come to a grinding halt the instant Milo saw the undead, Milo was alone, and so was the cadaver, it was just the two of them.

"Well? You are not well, you are dead… Now answer me, what are you doing here?!"

"I was hoping for a warmer reunion, but anyways" he extended one hand forward "Give up, Milo- Give up on life! There is no point to this useless struggle, all of you, everything that lives inside of this realm, will die… All will be liberated and granted an existence full of blessings, if you struggle until the end, only to realise that you fought against a better future for your children, wouldn't you feel terrible? Wouldn't you be filled with regret? Wouldn't you feel like you have failed your family? Your friends?"

"Milo, you know me, even if life has left my body, I am still Griar, I wouldn't lie to you, so listen to me…"

The headless spread his arms wide, stretched out toward the sky in a V position.

"...We were wrong, death is not something to be afraid of! Since I have died, I have experienced true happiness, on the other side, there is no pain, there is no suffering, there is no sorrow, there is no loss, there is now grieving! I know it is very hard to believe, but death- Death is simply a perfect state of being! In comparison… Life is naught but a curse, a museum of agony, it is finite, it will eventually come to an end, and that is the only saving grace this wretched malediction has to offer, trust me Milo, I too was stubborn at first, I did not properly accept the gift that I was granted-"

He slightly lowered his arms.

"-But I have come around, I saw the dark"

Milo sighed.

"What happened to you, Griar?" he simply asked, the corpse's arms dropping completely.

"Did you not listen to me? I was blessed with undeath… Oh, do you perhaps mean my early days as one of the dead? It is true that I once was a negator, one who lived in death, like a fool, I tried to struggle against the empire and 'protect' some livings… But thankfully, Lord Loimos intervened- Ah yes, like an angel of the gods, he descended upon the world and showed me the truth, the real truth!"

Milo felt like his blood was boiling.

"Lord? He is the one who killed you!"

"And I thank him for it"

'It's no use speaking… It's like talking to a wall' Milo clenched his fists, glaring ahead at the creature parading his friend's corpse around, he refused to believe that Griar would truly turn into this, that even if made into an undead, he would never surrender or fall for their lies.

But he could not just lunge forward, this could very easily be a trap.

"Let me ask for a third time : What are you doing here?"

The headhunter crossed his arms, the fog permeating the area had risen to knee-level by now.

"I have become a headless headhunter now, so naturally, my primary mission is to scour the surroundings of the barrier and claim the head of anyone that could step out, we are rather curious to see if us claiming the head will overcome the realm and prevent it from breaking down into spirit life… However, I am not like most of my fellows who only know to fulfill this sacred duty, my mind is intact, so I have come here to try and convince you to join us, that's what a friend does, right?" the undead explained.

"And you really thought that it would work?"

"Of course! I thought that you would realise the error of your ways, alas, I had forgotten the stubbornness of those that live, you people are poisoned by life and are forced to think adversely of death, poor little lambs, stuck in a limbo of lies and deceit by the very thing that animate you…"

"...By the way, you wouldn't happen to know where Antieeld is, would you? There are things I need to tell her-" there was a flash of gold, and even the undead did not perceive anything, merely manifesting his sword and channelling his battle art out of pure instinct, allowing his blade to move on its own in response to an approaching attack.

The headhunter was thrown back against the boulder, his blade vibrating intensely, enough to be unwieldy even in cold, dead hands.

Another flash ensued, and this time, the corpse faded away before he could be struck reappearing a distance behind Milo, who had just smashed the boulder to smithereens with a single blow.

The living looked over his shoulder.

"You will not be speaking to anyone else"

"I do not think you have a say in the matter"

Mana coursed through the sabre, lashing out at the air, several blades of mana surged forward, followed by pure swords of energy manifesting above the area, all of them falling heavily toward Milo.

Crashing into the soil, sending bits of dirt and roots flying through the air, the mist conjured by the undead pushed away.

"Your golden mana may be able to disrupt what it touches, but so can my battle art… Now that I am an undead, which do you think is stronger?"