Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead
Chapter 877 - 877: Ode To Hope, Ode To Despair

The livings did not hold back in the least, from the very start, they went all out without any regard to conserving stamina for later, the beast followers were right on the forefront, agitating the bestial aspects they had cultivated to their utmost limit, beast sorcery coursed throughout their bodies, further augmenting their feral side, their strength surged to heights unlike ever before, and in that instant, they demonstrate the true power of their worship, the rank and file soldiers of the dead, which would normally be able to outmatch any living army without the support of other castes, were torn apart by claws, their skulls crushed by maws, their bodies shattered by the the swipes of tails.

Even the refined recruitment they wore was of no help against the ferocity of the beast worshippers, but although seemingly lost in bestial rage, they perfectly retained their thinking capabilities, and knew when to back off, whilst they could still match the Loimoisian knight in terms of strength, and even overpower even them in most cases, it was best to be careful around the black knights as they all possessed different abilities that could not be predicted.

On the contrary, powerful castes like the fire knights had very predictable sets of abilities, but were otherwise much more powerful, but wariness was not a sign of fear or hesitation, if the foot soldiers were like small prey to the beast followers, then those greater undeads were more like fellow predators or perhaps larger preys that could very easily be the one to earn the kill if one was not careful.

But that was all, all that they required was to be more careful, always aware of their surroundings, always ready to act or react, the battlefield quickly turned messy as the livings pierced through the ranks of the undeads, the invisible line separating the dead from the living was greatly uneven, there was no telling if an undead could end up behind your back, or if an ally could end up surrounded by enemies.

To succeed, they not only had to fight for their lives, but also for that of their fellows, how was one able to stay alive in prolonged combat against so many undeads? Simple, by having an ally to your right, left and behind your back.

Otherwise, another undead would simply be able to strike you whilst your were vulnerable, and if you were wounded here, it was the same as profusely bleeding whilst surrounded by a school of starving great white sharks, it did not matter if you were usual prey or not, something was going to use that moment of weakness to bring about your swift end.

Fighting against the vanguard was difficult still, even if you were properly covered and paid attention to everything, one would sometime be unlucky, and run into an enemy that was simply more powerful that you were, or an enemy that you did not know the capabilities of, the latter was especially egregious here, as the vanguard possessed countless castes, many of them emulated well-known aspects of their general.

The fire knights were a martial caste that focused on Loimosfire, for example.

But not only did Loimos pretty much possessed endless means of attack, meaning that there could be an endless amount of different castes fighting under him, but there were also many other castes that didn't even take inspiration from him directly.

In short, no matter how long you fought for, or how much intel had been gathered, you were deemed to eventually have to fight an undead whose abilities you couldn't even begin to fathom, if you were lucky, you would manage to emerge victorious despite the unknown factor, but many would either be slain, or gravely wounded because of this factor.

There were only a handful of people amongst the livings who could be confident even when facing the unknown, but the fact that most would inevitably struggle because of that was already known beforehand, and someone had taken it upon themselves to prevent as many deaths as was possible.

It did not really please her to have to take a backline role when she could fight on the forefront, but preserving the lives of as many warriors as was possible took priority, so Antieeld, straining herself and her talent to its limits to survey the chaotic battlefield, was making use of the fighting spirits to rescue those who were wounded, or those who were about to be killed, dragging them away from the combat to be tended to.

That part was certainly difficult, as maintaining attention of the entire area at once already hard from a vantage point, but not only did she need to be nearby as the spirits she summoned always appeared right by her, but if she was too everly elevated, there was no doubt that the undeads would target her with a volley of projectiles, Antieeld already had to keep Gelter by her side to take care of the rotten birds that would sometime dive down.

However, this was somehow not the hardest part.

As finding fighting spirits willing to listen to her commands instead of joining the fray against the undeads was actually difficult, most of the spirits she could summon were too incensed by the enemy to actually listen to precise commands, merely yearning to throw themselves into the crucible of the battle.

But Antieeld was managing, she had to do her best and keep the death toll to a minimum.

Meanwhile, Ansonio was still engaged in furious battle of musical talent with a beast that was literally called The Song, although he felt his lungs burning, the trumpeter wasn't even showing a single sign of slowing down, the quality of his performance only increasing, but he could not overcome his opponent, for just like him, the creature seemed to be improving as time went on, also so engrossed in their confrontation, that it had stopped circling the realm entirely, and had turned to completely face the living.

Ansonio's musical duel was actually the most important part of this battle, if he stopped and allowed the ode to despair to rise back again without a competitor, then all of his allies would suddenly be struck by weakening and a sudden loss of morale, the amount of life that would be lost as a result would simply be innumerable.

But although that grim future was in the back of Ansonio's mind, his heart was instead dedicated to proving himself as the superior musician here, not that he believed that The Song was an abomination of music, in fact, the living had never encountered someone that was better than him in this domain, musicians were seldom found in a world where strength was so often propped up as the ultimate thing, art was often pushed aside, and the few practitioners were hard to run into.

For his rival to turn out to be an undead beast of calamity was surprising, but Ansonio did not really care, if he could not outright win, then he would at least force a draw.

Coincidentally, as The Song and Ansonio were each pushing themselves to greater heights in an attempt to prove themselves as the superior player, their music intensified, and in turn, brought further enhancements to their allies.

The battle was following the tempo of music, rising crescendo.