Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Word was passed, and somehow, in record time, someone arrived to go and converse with the executioner, Milo went back to observing from afar, and it seemed like the king wanted to make an impression on the forces of death, Pierre-Ornée was the one that walked up to the undead, mimicking his entrance as he was also accompanied by two other people, only that the ones standing a distance behind him were Syklon and Rosemary, clearly, there was a difference in combat powers here.

The executioner was unfazed, no… Milo wouldn't say that he was unfazed, more like that he was wholly unbothered and could not be taken by surprise somehow, the farm boy felt like that even if the halbardier cleaved him in half, not even a budge would come out of this corpse.

He and the many that had joined him to gawk and observe the undeads were disturbed, like a sculpture had been put there instead of an actual being, and considering that this one seemed to be in charge here in the unprotected lands, he had to have his own agency and thoughts, not simply a mindless undead.

The two knights accompanying him remained stalwart, but one could feel their gaze directed at the living, unlike their supposed superior, who was staring everywhere and nowhere, gazing at everyone in detail, but also right through them, as if they didn't exist.

Being able to gleam so much by just looking at this guy was odd.

"He must be purposefully trying to unnerve us" Helena whispered, it made the most sense, Milo had been unable of noticing such details when he had been observing him prior to his arrival up to the barrier.

Meanwhile, to the right of both of them, Antieeld was laser focused on the executioner.

"This helm…" Griar realised and put a hand up on the commandant's shoulder, afraid that she might just move forward.

The young noble's remark stirred everyone's memories, indeed, this mobile cadaver had a most notable helm design, the visor composed of bar's, reminiscent of those on a cell almost, not a common one at all, in fact, only one person had ever worn such a thing.

"The plague knight…?" rather than furiously exploding, the red-haired girl went deep in thought, just as Pierre-Ornée began the communications, the undead seemingly intent on just standing there in silence otherwise.

"I am Halbardier Pierre-Ornée, royal knight, personal guard of his majesty, Agilulf Wanneck, king of Tamaris" he presented himself in full, expecting the same thing from the undead.

Without shifting in the slightest, he responded.

"Loimos, royal courier, messenger of his majesty, King Nitok, Of The Eternal Night, Prince Of Death" his voice was, unpleasant to say the least, the three powerhouses were unmoved, but the many people, even shielded behind the barrier found themselves in a cold sweat for a brief instant, like a bony hand had just grabbed their nape for a short moment.

Unconsciously shivering at the imagined coldness, the students wondered how a messenger could inflict such effects on them by just speaking, courier was a job unfit for a gravelord, but yet, he had called himself a royal courier, so surely that meant a certain level of importance…

They didn't know what to think of Loimos, instead glued to his every movement as he took a few steps forward, extending his left hand for a… Handshake.

Pierre-Ornée was not expecting to have to do this, but he relented and shook the ice-cold hand of this messenger.

Almost expecting something else, but Loimos soon took a step back, growing an awful lot more physically expressive, with how painfully obvious that it was just smoke and mirrors, that it was just acting… Syklon visibly cringed in the back.

"What are your offers?" he asked, extending one palm, pointed upward, at the group of living.

'Our offers? Is this guy serious?'

'He just stands there without saying anything, gets what he wants anyways and asks us what we have to say?!'

'You're the one who asked for a meeting! That's our line!'

The audience was honestly quite outraged, it was quite certainly an insult, a provocation, which had little effect on the people he was actually meeting with, experts of keeping their cool.

"Well, we don't know enough about you undeads to have any offers, what about yours?" the halbardier said back, the executioner returning to his motionless stature.

Without waiting even a second after the copper knight spoke, Loimos answered.

"King Nitok is in no hurry to eradicate Tamaris, the world is vast, thriving with life, the lands, the undergrounds, the skies, the oceans, alternate planes, our work is set to extend into centuries and beyond, keeping Tamaris around is of no bearing"

"However, that is King Nitok's thoughts on the matter, he give free reigns to the gravelords, they are willing to spend some time taking your barriers apart, slaughter each and every living inside one by one, this will bring ruin to this kingdom"

No one interrupted Loimos as he went into a lengthy explanation, clearly building up to something.

"Surrender, accept the gift of undeath, free yourself of life, and join the efforts to eradicate life as a vassal nation, Tamaris's identity will be preserved, unto eternity, many others have agreed"

It went without saying, Agilulf Wanneck had already ruled this out of the options, there was no capitulating, there was no giving up on their lives, especially when the end goal was nothing short of a global genocide.

"We shall refuse" Pierre-Ornée didn't even bother acting like it was a consideration.

Utterly impossible to tell whether it was within the expectations of the courier or not, Loimos just stood there, unreadable even for the three masters.

"In this case, let us see another time"

He swung his war scythe in the air, showing the banner attached to it in full.

"Halbardier Pierre-Ornée, it was our first meeting"

"Lady Syklon, Storm Of Blade, I see that the shade was not of great efficiency"

"What did y-"

"Rosemary, The Volcano Witch, Osworth bids his salute"

He spoke as he walked away, the two knights following after him.

Simply returning to his role of overseer for the construction of the fortress without giving any sort of attention to the three livings, who seemed a bit livid at the moment, the dots connecting.

Still, this was all provocation thrown to an unknown end, so everyone just retreated inside of the barrier, they needed to prepare, for compared to what everyone would have liked, the undeads would not ignore them for much longer than a pitiful month.

They would have to fight back, be the first to strike.

Which was most certainly what the dead wanted, but what was there to do? When your enemy's wishes and the best course of actions available to you were one and the same?