Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

"Heh? I hear- I hear-" another tried to respond but just fell asleep right here and there.

"I was told that Halbardier Pierre-Ornée is actually a woman" a third one interjected with something completely unrelated.

The man at the entrance was messing around with the door, locking it and shaking it with utter calmness to see how well it was holding up.

"I thought that it was Shieldmaster Bough that was the lady, can you imagine all that meat under that armour?" one stared at the ceiling at the thought of the meat in question.

Done with his verifications, the man standing there looked around at the rowdy tavern, filled to the brim with dead drunk men, a few waitresses weaving around the collapsed, drooling fools to serve more alcohol.

Dead drunk wasn’t enough dead for him.

"Aah, shut up man, try getting into your wife’s pants before Bough’s!" they erupted into laughter at their friend’s expense, mocking his failed marriage like only good friends could.

The entire room was full of nothing but laughing and fun, the oh-so distinctive smell of booze and its regurgitated homologue was permeating the air.

Looking up, Loimos could see that the room was illuminated by a sort of makeshift chandelier made up of multiple bright lanterns, apart from that, other lanterns were strung about, out of reach of the partygoers.

Alcohol and fire didn’t mesh together very well after all.

The undead picked up his two swords that he had propped up against the wall, he could do all the suspicious movements he could think of, no one was paying attention, and frankly, it was dubious if anyone could put two and two together at the moment.

He dual wielded the two blades, the two swords not quite the same length and width, Loimos found no issue in this, he was neither left handed or right handed after all, he could use his two hands just as well as the other, unlike the supposedly greatly evolved apes.

With top notch precision at all times, or at least, his top notch.

He rose one above the head of the laughing men, the one that had begun with speaking of their king’s upcoming marriage.

The other at a waitress with her back turned to him, the women going around to serve drinks were most certainly a problem since they weren’t intoxicated, but it didn’t matter.

Without hesitation, Loimos split one’s skull and slashed right through a nape.

Killing the two instantly, the blood splashed over some of the customers, they were confused as to why warmth was getting all over them, the more apt realised that it was blood, but they weren’t quite clear minded enough to immediately react and just stared at it with blank expressions.

Pulling the blade back the divided head, Loimos pulled the man out of his chair with this move, the shock of hitting the ground dislodging half of his brain, allowing it to roam free and see the outside world for itself.

Loimos stepped over it without a care as he began to ruthlessly cleave through as many of the living before him as possible, dealing horrific wounds with each of his slashes, at the moment, standing around like statues, they were nothing more than a grass field in need of some trimming.

Dozens of people were reduced to limp masses of flesh oozing blood as they convulsed helplessly before someone actually reacted, some big guy with long dirty hair crashed into Loimos, slamming the undead into a wall.

All hell broke loose.

Loimos stabbed both of his blades into the man’s back, forcing him to let go.

The passive drunks had finally finalised their process of choosing between fight or flight, and they all chose fight.

As soon as the skeleton got rid of the first man, one had already shattered a chair in his face, pushing Loimos away, who didn’t care for it and used the provided momentum to swing one of his swords and slit two throats.

Running in between the two dying men, he pushed them into the crowd and dropped one layer of his disguise right there and then, a foetid smell infested the tavern, overtaking the ingrained scent with ease, multiple puked and more were repulsed, their eyes itching and watering.

Loimos stabbed someone through their open mouth, receiving a nasty left hook right to his jaw, which tilted his head away, he kicked the man in the crotch anyways and swung his other sword in the other direction.

Someone caught his arm and refused to let go, the undead dragged the stubborn man along with him and used him as a meat shield as he abandoned his other sword as it stayed stuck in place.

Instead sucker punching a skinny man right in the throat.

He managed to throw the one clinging to him over at another man, before kicking a table to create some breathing room.

Another chair was broken to splinters as it was slammed into his back, before some guy with huge arms and burns on his arm uppercut Loimos, almost popping his skull right off.

Two other guys had taken their time to pick up an entire table, throwing it with remarkable force at the undead, who crouched down to dodge it, it instead hit other of their fellows.

It seemed like they were beating the crap out of him, which was absolutely true, but they were definitely not dealing as much damage as they believed, Loimos, even if his bones were damaged, they were held together by his thick coat of rot, he shrugged off every hit.

A sly one grabbed the undead by the shoulder and proceeded to repeatedly shank him in the stomach, quite the impressive technique there, he had definitely been in the business of stabbing people for a while.

Piercing damage was probably the least effective thing against Loimos though, and he had just benevolently brought a new blade to him, one much easier to whip around amidst this conglomerate of furious drunks.

He headbutted the stabber and haphazardly chucked his last sword at the legs of the crowd, making them all jump around, bump into each other and fall as a collective.

Turning the knife on its owner, Loimos pushed the trembling body away and leaped on a table before jumping once more and catching onto the chandelier.

The loose thing dropped to the ground immediately, crushing many of the customers and sending fiery oil onto the wooden floor.