Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

'Oh no… I should have just thrown myself out of the window!' Allang Allantir was regretting being alive for this ordeal.

'Would being dead even have spared me from this? I doubt it…' the king of Glittegoyaume, kingdom of once great standing, and still a big player on the continent until the arrival of a certain empire, he was standing with other rulers in a room supposedly beside the throne room of Nitok's crypt, he was pretty much the one with the greatest influence in the room.

Agilulf Wanneck was safe in his own kingdom, Fioldron Ferrcrona was also inside of a barrier, still fighting.

The council of popes which ruled Millipolo was similarly still relatively safe, as for Irtancix Vilopx and Ilraptere Vinntm, they had already been subjugated, and from what he understood, they were already inside of the throne room.

Every living inside shivered in fear, all species alike were equally terrified of Nitok and the forces he led, his armies seemed endless, diverse and incredibly powerful at that, somehow having everything that made a military potent.

'What could such a king be like?' although frightened to his core, Allang Allantir was incredibly curious, he did not know how one became king of the dead, but it had to entail a certain form of greatness, certainly a sort that he could only envision, what sort of undead was he? What sort of person was he? Had he taken up his crown by might? Intellect? Trust? All of those?

What was the calibre necessary to rule over a kind as vast as that of the undead?

Fixing his clothes and adjusting his crown, he breathed in and out, putting his mask of composure back on, from what he guessed and what the royal courier had said, King Nitok's words would be made into reality no matter what sort of objections could be brought forward.

But was that really the case? Could nothing sway his opinion? Allang Allantir had ascended to the throne by right of blood, without any issue as he was the only son of his father, legitimate or otherwise, no one else could claim it, not only this, he took up after a king that was beloved and respected in a kingdom without much problems at all, his life, his rule was easy.

Take some decisions every now and then, speak to some nobles and commoners asking for audiences, find a wife from another kingdom to strengthen relationships, have an heir and die peacefully in your sleep.

Never had he had to take difficult decisions for his people, for his kingdom.

And now that occasion forcefully appeared, he found himself invigorated, like he had just found a purpose he did not know he needed.

He was the king of Glittegoyaume, and he would remain as such even before the undead king, Allang Allantir, was going to do his best.

He and all of the lesser rulers felt it suddenly, that familiar presence that had gone right through them about a month prior, the sheer strength and aura of King Nitok was worthy of endless praise.

The so-called strongests of the continent could not compare in the least, simply otherworldly, greater than all.

Many of them had at least met with some of powerhouses at least once, the Halbardier and Shieldmaster, The Volcano Witch, Storm Of Blade, even The Death Dealer for a few, even those that had been face to face with the murderous assassin would rather be stuck as one of her targets right now.

'What an oppressing presence… Is he a divinity?'

They were interrupted by Loimos, he showed them the way into the throne room, not giving any other instructions, the blade of his scythe seemed awfully sharp, glistening as though awaiting for a soul to reap.

'He even controls this monster, the courier isn't even a gravelord… I should have just accepted the invitation the first time, in what world did I think there was a way to escape or fight? King Nitok's messenger was enough to single-handedly take over my capital' he steeled his resolve, a veritable parade of horrors waited in the throne room.

All gawked at its immensity, they had not seen much of the crypt, the dark miasma distanced just enough to not harm them, but here, the place was fully cleared for their convenience, an honour they did not expect.

None dared to look at the throne just yet.

Merely the throne room was larger than most royal palaces, gigantic pillars extending into a vast expanse of darkness up above, the room was simply so big, that fog could be seen in the distance, undead guards stood around, perfectly unmoving as Loimos led the sovereigns.

Banners could be seen hanging from the pillars leading to the throne, the individual symbols on their own banners, it seemed vivid, like one could not possibly be mistaken about what was shown to them.

'They must be the symbols of his closest followers and…' Hanging behind the throne, the largest of all banners was proudly laid flat against the cold, dark stone, in the center of many paintings and what could only be assumed to be trophies of past conquests.

The sheer amount of crowns put on display was certainly threatening.

The banner behind the throne was that of a dark sun, its tendrils of darkness extending in all directions.

Obviously, the undead king's royal seat was elevated, a flat platform halfway up the staircase leading up, standing in lines to the sides, the seven gravelords, monsters of unfathomable strength as well.

A rather small ghoul whose chest seemed burst open, his constant gaze overbearing.

A finely-dressed tall man, certainly a vampire, his presence noble.

A hideous long-eared, seemingly misshapen man, his stature the most intimidating amidst all.

Two similar beastly figures, one intertwined with metal, the other appearing exactly like a wizened old bat.

One was an agglomeration of hands, one which none lingered on for too long, deep fear claiming their hearts if they dared to.

Lastly, there was a veiled woman, who was certainly much less threatening than the rest, looking like an oasis in the desert amidst this carnival of terrors.

Closer to the king, a skeleton mage and a huge knight stood guard.

Allang Allantir noticed a shiny skeleton and draugr standing a distance away from the throne, not standing on elevated ground, they might seem much less important that the rest, but his instincts told him that their position here was not left to chance.

Loimos came to a stop, spun around, took a step back and slammed the end of his polearm onto the ground, a loud slam reverberated throughout, bouncing around and back to them.

"You now stand before King Nitok, Prince Of Death" the courier seemed to also double as an announcer, after speaking these words, he had all the livings stand in a line before the king, before stepping behind their backs.

'Executioner too…' he could almost feel the blade against the back of his neck already.

The rulers did not hesitate to get down to their knees the second Nitok's name was spoken, stopped by their own bodies, the monarch's bony hand had risen, telling them to cease.

"Stand ye, thou art luminaries like I, art thou not?"