Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Chapter 196 Dracula



The ground was remarkably soft, fine grey dust that softly cradled the steps, no light could reach the bottom of this immense put, this empty space situated in between peaks so high that few could get up there without finding their lungs constricting due to the lack of air, down there, so far away from the tops, air could be found, though stagnant, unfit for consumption.

Loimos was immediately greeted by the most common sight at the bottom, a dark and thin protrusion, reaching up toward the blanket of frost high above, near the tip of this construct, which edges were a brilliant crimson, a dried corpse decorated it, serving as the cherry on top.

The body was ancient, maintained whole, disapproved from crumbling and vanishing, its body growing branch-like additions, blood fruits growing from them, Loimos softly grabbed one, the fruit turning completely liquid, finding its way into his helm, where he rotted it. Read exclusive chapters at empire

This particular corpse tree was but the first of many, stretching endlessly into the horizon, more unfortunate cadavers were to be discovered, humans, elves, demons, beastfolks, dragons, giants, mythical creatures and lesser beings, they were all made equal in impalement, each and every one of them now serving as the source of endless reserves of blood.

Blood banks for the many vampires roaming the expanse of dust and spikes, most were of Dracula's blood, blood drinkers turned by the gravelord and his followers, but this sunless land had also become a gathering ground for those of other descents as well, the skeleton was spared some glances of curiosity, but his immaculate death force, which he was allowing to spread outward for once, was proof enough that he belonged here.

Vampires, being undeads, hadn't bothered to build habitations for themselves it seemed, content with just wandering around, only a single piece of architecture was to be found, standing in the center of the pit, surrounded by a dense forest of impaled bodies, giant spikes protruding from the edges of the fortress, holding up giants of even greater size than before, easily dwarfing the frost dragon.

Their size only meant that they produced more blood fruits than the rest however, flanking the castle on each side were two dragons, one abiding more to the bodily structure of a wyvern, whilst the other follow the text book look of the mighty lizaroids, with four legs and two wings, both of them, vampires.

Standing so perfectly still, that some might mistake them for statues, but both acknowledged the undead's approach with a slight turn of their heads, the one on the right looking into the inside of the fort, signalling for something.

A male voice erupted in the distance, clearly sounding thrilled to have a visitor, the gate quickly flung open with a bang, slamming into the ground as it formed a bridge over the moat, which was obviously, filled with blood instead of water.

One vampire came jogging out, dressed in dark robes, a chestplate worn over it, blood red eyes, pale skin and dark hair, as well as a certain noble presence, you could hardly make for a more dracula vampire than this without going to the man himself.

"Greetings esteemed guest! I am Malro, Castellan of this one castle, we haven't seen a new face in well over a century at least"

"But you aren't a vampire, what brings you here?" the vampire spoke with enthusiasm, but did not reveal the identity of the lord of the castle.

Gathering all the decorum he had observed and that Unacunerra had imparted upon him, Loimos put his hands behind his back, no matter how meaningless it was in an undead to undead interaction.

"My name is Loimos, I am a messenger currently searching to gather the troops and court of our king, in prevision to land an assault on Bourgliotte, fortified city of Starkefolten, to reach King Nitok and free him of his seal" he explained in death tongue, the complete lack of any sort personality in his voice caught Malro by surprise, he was only used to vampires after all, perhaps this was normal for the other undeads.

"Oh, huh, hum, I am not cut out for that sort of talk" raising one index finger, the castellan urged Loimos to wait a bit as he ran back inside, which was not necessary, the lord himself spoke out.

"Bring him inside" only three words, but Malro felt his blood tremble a bit, Loimos, his death force reacted to this mere vocalisation, confirming that they were in presence of a legendary undead, a bonafide gravelord, one of the dead chosen by death itself.

"Aherm, this way Sir Loimos, Lord Dracula wishes to converse with you" Malro led the way, walking with careful steps once they reached the inside of the castle, if there was one thing that should be known about the undead king and his court, was that amongst all of them, the only one that knew how to properly decorate empty space was Dracula, without him around, the king's crypt wouldn't even have had a throne in it, or perhaps, just a chair.

Though, imagery of dragons and red seemed to be his main focus, paintings painted with the blood of various creatures, so as to ensure it wasn't just different shades of red, depicting ancient battles, as well as the other gravelords and King Nitok.

"This is where Lord Dracula is awaiting" Malro promptly retreated after opening the door.

Loimos stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

Inside this very crimson room, a single man could be found, seated on a chair and sipping on fresh blood like it was tea, being never changing, Gravelord Dracula obviously looked exactly as Unacunerra had described.

A vampire of beyond noble stature, his eyes a deep crimson, his fangs appearing especially dangerous despite not looking so different from that of his subordinates, dressed in a dark suit, a white shirt of great manufacture, a cape-like cloak flung over his left shoulder.

The gravelord face was perfectly clean shaven, angular and standing perfectly above youthfulness, giving him a mature aspect in spite of his eternal youth, long black hair tied to only reach down to his shoulders, truly the classiest of the dead and only gravelord that could ever hope to not mortify the lesser living on sight.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Loimos was it? Come and take a seat across of me"

The skeleton did exactly that.

"I have no memory of any Loimos, you must be a recent undead, and yet, what impressive death you carry, it is like you are hundreds of undeads put together, I have heard what you said to Malro, but would you mind elaborating further? To be clear however, I will obviously not deny your request of aiding in taking over that city"


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