Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Chapter 483: Release The Monsters

Pressed up against the ground, stomped and stampeded by what felt like an unending line of monsters, she tried to shield as best as was possible using what little was available to her, but the living was not spared any of it, having been standing right in front of the door when it was opened, claws dug into her flesh, but surprisingly, she did not feel herself being torn apart like a wet piece of parchment.

Quickly enough, the wave of bodies ceased, warm blood splashing over the huntress, prompting her to suddenly rise up, several drylurkers laid in pools of crimson, the rest already ascending up the tunnel, albeit with much difficult as they did not bother to arrange themselves into a proper line, clogging the way as they slowly forced passage anyways, crushing the creatures on the outer edges of this mass against the walls and ceiling.

They had not taken the time to tear her apart as had been expected, preferring to head to the surface immediately, perhaps attracted to the fighting occurring up above, still, she had ended up in a sorry state either way, head and neck were in a good condition as that was what had been naturally prioritised in defence, but her limbs and body were the opposite.

Clothes and flesh alike had been ripped into, fairly certain that multiple bones were at least cracked, if not outright broken, adrenaline was preventing all of those injuries and lost blood from grounding her just yet however, turning to the nightbird warily.

The harsh-on-the-eyes undead had received a much less polite salutation from the drylurkers, perhaps because she had stood her ground instead of falling backward like the living, or maybe it was that the nearing hold of death had pushed even the beasts and monsters to fight back on instinct, whatever it was, the nightbirds was missing an arm and had way too many bones exposed, the bandages upon her face had been pulled off, revealing skin that was falling off, or had perhaps been partly peeled by a rather crude torturer.

Smiling with all her rotten teeth, the titleless nightbird was debating the best course of action, she had endured quite a bit of damage from that stream of creatures, having failed to anticipate for this course of action, she did not handle it well at all.

Losing an arm and a few kilograms of flesh was nothing much to an undead, especially the nightbirds who were trained to wield their weapons with both hands, but the truly debilitating damage was not yet visible from the outside... Which was that one of her legs was no longer operational, if any pressure was put on it, it would rupture right at the knee, and although jumping around on one leg was far from a fantasy for the undead, it did not mean that it was ideal.

Fighting in this state would be a difficult job, and if that living released another flood of drylurkers, then it would be nearly impossible to properly defend against it, but allowing the huntress to release the rest, including what was beneath the bone lid, she did not doubt that her sisters would deal with the problem anyways, but it was a sour taste to just have to give up when a problem could be snuffed out early.

The huntress knew very well that it could already sense her, but she also did know that this creature, bested and imprisoned by Jaral Cribler in person, was not like the other slug-like creatures prowling the bottom, it held a hint of intelligence, of will, of joy in the hunt, of pleasure in giving false hopes, bottom-prowlers were all monsters, but this one deserved the appellation more than any other, and its encounter had marked the cessation of all attempts to explore the depths any further, fearful of what else would be found deeper.

But as it familiarised itself with the surroundings, the prowler seemed truly confused and curious, bringing its misshapen body close to the ground, feeling the vibrations in the ground, slowly moving for the surface, never turning, never even showing a single sign of having noticed the living.

'I am not going to die? Is the monster so mad and hungry that it headed for the larger group of people? Is it the same thing that the drylurkers were doing?' she unknowingly laughed at her great fortune, trying to stand straight, only to fall right on her butt, all strength sapped from both legs.

Looking down at her hands, blinking multiple times, turning to check the back and palms multiple times.

'Huh?'

Her blood was dark, nearly pitch black.

And as she noticed this fact, confirming it as she checked all other wounds upon her body- More of the paste-like substance flowing down from her nose and mouth like sap from a tree.

The metallic taste of blood was replaced with a bitter, nauseating one, constricting both throat and stomach.

"T-That bitch... She poisoned me..."