Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

In the following days and nights, the headless in white kept on repeating the same pattern to get to all who acted as spies, he had come to wonder why civilians had not been given this mission instead, as they were in no danger of retribution, but one had to assume that actively partaking in a military operation would make one a soldier by technicality, maybe it wouldn't, but Alisart Cleavster probably did not want to try it.

Laying down weapons for spying tactics was already dishonourable enough, risking getting civilians killed would be much too foul. Explore more adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

Everytime, Grigri did relatively the same thing, although not all of them were as agreeable as the first guy, a surprising amount of them just opened the door to check out the person knocking on their doors in the middle of a pitch black night after a suspicious whistle belonging to a murderer rang out, but the headless just guessed that they opened the door because they thought that not doing so would be deemed more suspicious, or something along these lines.

He did not really have the occasion to question their decisions, apart from Isilt, all of them had been simple soldiers, allowing for Grigri to take them down with ease every time, each with a varying amount of visible surprise, all of them had been men as well, apparently, the cover that messages were to be delivered under was the same for everyone, even for those that were engaged or already married, having some of those poor guys have to act like they were running after younger women when they had wives was certainly something.

But Grigri did not feel like pointing out the possible comedic situations that could arise from this, as he had not been able of getting to the very last agent before he went on the move, a relatively young man, probably barely any older than Isilt was, his face hardened stress.

And a young woman, the one supposed to reception his report and send it to the ones it was truly meant for, both were being put under arrest, standing a fair distance away, allowing himself to be seen as some other headhunters had gathered as well, emitting whistles as if to mock the caught agents.

'Bastards…' Grigri felt anxious, he had not been deployed as a headhunter in Belliste immediately after being created, and even if he had not been himself at the start, he remembered what he witnessed, he had gotten to see the way members of the vanguard were being trained, rank and file, Loimoisian knights, more focused castes as well, including some that were not meant to be on the frontlines, such as the instructors, who were ruthless in their teachings, especially the head of this caste who trained even the other instructors.

Grigri knew that undeads were fundamentally different from the livings, but he still found their methods of training to be awfully brutal, though they inspired not nearly as much dread within him as the robed and hooded figures that had appeared specifically for this occasion.

One thing the headless had understood, was that despite being titled as a champion, a lord of the battlefield, Loimos held a keen understanding of things way beyond combat, one could not hope to best in a battle, but neither should they attempt to outmatch him in a duel of wits, although he had pretty much never interacted with the putrid undead, the presence of scholarly castes, and especially the vile information gatherer, more akin to torturers.

The mind peelers were undeads worthy of loath, their name not at all an exaggeration or manner of speech, he had seen them practising upon prisoners, their bodies hidden under ample and wide robes that dragged across the ground, great hoods casting deep shadows over their faces, thick gloves concealing all that could show their true undead form.

All that ever showed were the disgusting tentacles formed from mind power, even from where he stood, Grigri could see the tendrils trembling and whipping at the air.

His right hand trembled as well, as if screaming for him to act, logic dictated that he should stand still and wait for an occasion, but his long lost heart wished for knightly justice to befall the malevolent undeads right this instant.

However, no matter how loudly the heart screamed, his right hand did not find the way to grab onto any tool to deliver such a justice.

Both of the spies were calmly being walked through the country roads, worried farmers and their families watching from the side, powerless to do anything, the culprits were cuffed with chains of black iron, hands in front, surrounded by soldiers and knights armed to the teeth, beasts watching intently, a certain undead champion walking just ahead of them.

'Are they going to peel their minds in public?' that was what it looked like, if so, the undeads would clearly demonstrate that going against them was a terrible idea.

The need to step in steadily grew stronger, even without knowing what it was that his hand tried to reach for, he took one step forward…

"Frenand!" the skeleton stopped, and so did the whole convoy.

Looking to the side, Alisiana, accompanied by Deacon Grilt and a few other missionaries.

"What is it? We are a bit busy, in case you didn't notice…" Frenand's gaze lowered for a split second.

"Oh Frenand, are you going to have their minds peeled down to the core?"

"Of course, we need to show them what happens to those who try to fool us-"

"Frenand! Death is also the truest embodiment of kindness and compassion, why not offer them a path toward redemption? Let develop and show their faith in our most holy- Divine Death!" spreading her arms and assuming the shape of a Y.

"I am not against it, but those are spies, I mean, if you two found spies, what would you want for them? To be emptied of all that they know and killed, or to go on their knees and pray under the watch of a se- Severely enthusiastic priestess?" Frenand asked the two prisoners.

"I- Huh, I guess I wouldn't want them to just go freely…" one of them hesitated but felt like lying wasn't a good idea with the corpses waving tentacles at them.

"See? They want to die too"

"Come now Frenand, Lieutenant Ourlst does not mind, and I think it's a good idea, those two get to discover our glorious church of death, and then they can come back and tell everyone about how great it is" the priestess's face creaked a bit, probably an attempt to smile in spite of the distance in between her skin and bones being nearly null.

"Mmh, I can give you one, if you want…"

"Hey, we can't treat people differently, I am sure you'll catch more spies, be nice to those two, and… Be nice to me while you're at it"

Grigri watched and listened in stunned stillness.

'What is this? And why are they speaking in the pale tongue?'

Frenand did not debate any further, agreeing to spare the two spies the harrowing torture of being put in the care of mind peelers, instead subjecting them to becoming monks of the church of death.

'Something's not right…'