Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead
Chapter 938 - 938: Alone

When they had originally fled from Tamaris, the number of refugees had been relatively high considering the dire crisis they had been facing, but as they once again ran away, that number had seen a sharp decrease, too many had built lives for themselves alongside emerald folks, although the Emerald Realm may not be their ancestral home, they felt a strong connection to it, and many remaining to face the threat of the undead here, whilst the rest went to the last creation of Arzt.

They bidded farewell to the people who had welcomed them with open arms, and found their way into a sort of basement the old carver had dug out himself just beneath his run down shack, there, they found a wide room held up by stone pillars, all carved by Arzt himself, covered in all sorts of markings, writing similar to that upon the stone tablet given by Solzmimi, in the middle of this room, there was an altar of sort, an empty space upon that could perfectly fit the stone tablet.

"Is everybody ready? Be prepared to expand mana in a swift burst if you realise that you haven't been transported alongside everyone else" Antieeld reminded everyone of the risk of being taken to the wrong realm, and looked as everyone nodded, it was not determination or an outlook to a brighter future that she was on their faces, only gloominess, even those who hid it well undoubtedly carried a hint of sorrow, most of them would rather fight until the bitter end, most were only going along with this because they had children to take care of, whether these children were there own, or orphans left in Loimos's wake…

"Then… Let's go" the commandant, carefully placed the tablet into the altar after making sure that everyone was here, keeping the number of people present in mind as the room was engulfed by a bright light, and before any of them could even exhale or inhale, they found themselves with their knees buckling, in just the blink of an eye, they were no longer standing in the underground room, but in an immense, undulating land of windswept green grass, giant trees standing amidst it all in the distance.

The energies that floated in the air were incredibly pure and vibrant, yet another realm bustling with life, a realm that knew nothing of undeath or the threat that the empire posed to it, this was a peaceful realm…

"Oh gods…" a quiet voice rose out, leading Antieeld to immediately count the amount of people present, they were missing only one, and it was just about one of the worst ones that could have been snatched into the wrong realm.

The youngest of the family, three years old Griar was nowhere to be seen.

"Helena-"

"D-Don't worry, he will make it, Griar is young, but he'll figure it out, I am sure of it…"

"...Of course"

'Can't this damned world leave that family alone for a second?!' the commandant cursed inside of her mind, silently praying that Griar would indeed be able to understand how to get to the right place…

___

A mountain had been turned into a volcano, liquid magma flowed down the sides, pooling at the bottom, the horizon had been turned into an apocalyptic image from the constant release of countless different sorts of abilities, up north, entire forests had been frozen still, pale ice, dark ice, blood ice… All sorts of variations of this element had been unleashed using all possible energies, or just a dedicated few, leaving dozens of kilometers, if not more, of nature completely frozen over.

The south had been turned into a swamp of acidic blood and digestive fluids, the earth slowly being consumed and falling inward into an immense depression as the swamp continued to grow and consume everything it touched.

The east and west had instead been scorched or nearly entirely erased respectively, from the release of countless flames and of void-related powers en masse… Atop the volcano, the perpetrator for the majority of the destruction stood firmly, his poise appearing unshakable.

Around him, four figures were pulling themselves out of dark portals, four beings who presided over the concept of the apocalypse, to the right, War and Conquest, to the left, Famine and Pestilence.

A massive devil-like figure carrying a greatsword and riding upon a red horse, War ruled over the bringing of death by the edge of the sword, brutal warfare that knew no rules and no morals, simple slaughter, and this was reflected in the soldiers manifesting behind him, a mesh of different armies and units without cohesion, only brought together by the desire to kill.

A crown-wearing skeleton carrying a bow, garbed in pure white and riding upon a white horse, Conquest ruled over a nobler image of warfare, bringing swift death with arrows, for this one, war was not only about massacre and destruction, it was about domination and expansion, which naturally reflected into the soldiers that appeared alongside him, an orderly army, brought together by duty.

A famished corpse of a man carrying a scale, riding upon a black horse, Famine brought death to crops, caused food to spoil and induced extreme hunger, judging people with his scale, he brought about a most miserable death and rode without an army.

A putrescent mass riding upon a green horse, carrying nothing, Pestilence carries plagues and diseases, following behind him are the creatures of lesser intelligence, who come to feast and tear apart at those in the way of the apocalypse.

A sigh was emitted from lower down the erupting mountain.

"Those four guys again? Here I thought they were unique and wouldn't come back, I guess they are inherently connected to you then" still wearing a bored expression, Sonnenträger eyed the four horsemen, not regarding them as much, Loimos had already summoned them earlier to little effect, a puny concept like the end of the world was nothing that could faze the golden one.

But Loimos was not quite done this time, before, the four horsemen had just been an appetiser, a little test for the undead to see how the apocalypse would function in this realm of memories.

The two combatants had already thoroughly ravaged this Viridis of the past, having been fighting for days already, without any of them appearing damaged or tired in the least just yet.

Just after the horsemen appeared- One at a time, seven trumpets sounded from seemingly everywhere and nowhere at once.

From what Loimos had gathered, each individual memory of this world actually counted as its own individual reality despite all coexisting within this single realm, so there was no need to hold back on such extraordinary means, as the apocalypse would only be occurring for this particular past of Viridis.

All over the place, giant locusts with humanoid skulls protruding and tearing through their faces began to appear, all closing in on Sonnenträger.

"Those are still some little parlour tricks…"