Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Redlemon flowers were the main way to spice up meals in southern region, they smelled like lemon in their natural state, but when used in cooking, it brought a completely different flavour, something the people here did not realise, for they did not know that lemon was a fruit, the name of this plant was simply passed down, none remembered why this name was.

Pitit only knew that it was good to use in cooking and that they smelled nice, the odour would even linger onto the hands of the one plucking and carrying them, which was always nice, getting down on her knees, a nice bed of these flowers had grown right next to the well, a small area verdant with grass surrounding by the tall wheat, this one only had one real path leading up to it, directly from the farm of the girl's family, some mushrooms would even grow here sometimes.

Carefully taking a few dozens of these flowers, as one could let them dry, when submerged in water, they would regain all of their fragrance and savoury capabilities, focusing on this mundane task, barely a minute passing, a long shadow was cast over her, two boots of black leather now standing right there, having definitely not gotten there by walking, no chances that Pitit would not have noticed such an approach.

A faint whistle rippled through the air, followed by unintelligible voices from nowhere, slowly, she rose her head, the bright white of this attire nearly as blinding as the sun as it greatly reflected its shine, the golden decorations appeared clearly from up close, a refine brooch holding the long cloak, almost a cape, together, to the side, something seemed to be strapped, but hidden it remained behind the white veil.

One could see the sun where a face should have been, perfectly lined up.

Putting one knee to the ground, damned voices, whistling continuing as the headhunter extended a rose to her, the prickles on it having already been carefully removed, swallowing her saliva, Pitit accepted the bright red bloom, not even knowing where such a flower as to be found, without even coming close to brushing up against the girl, the headless gave the rose and stood up, cloak closing, his arms tightly hidden underneath.

"On… Promi…" a few incomprehensible words seemed to come directly from the headhunter, but Pitit was uncertain if that was truly the case, or if it had been just another of the voices, but, this had seemed clearer, as if whispering right in the ear.

Stepping back into the wheat, the girl blinked and the rider in white was utterly gone, and so was the pretty flower he had offered to her, as though all had been a dream.

This very night, strong winds befell the fields, the clouds were dark, but apart from small, distant flashes of brightness, no rain or lightning showed itself, the knights enjoyed the lack of storm, moving around in groups, in great numbers, their attention still failed to lower, all very intent on getting their grasp upon the headhunter and deal with him, no matter how impervious to blade he may appear, they intended on dismembering the dastardly murderer and bury him six feet below even if he still dared to twitch.

The clouds however, prevented all moonlight from reaching the ground, so it was armed with lanterns and torches that they treaded the dark, even in this ambient darkness, the one in white was certain to be immediately spotted if light was cast upon his fool silhouette.

At night however, the knights did not go far from the farms, not venturing into the woods, protecting the population was the priority, two of such knights were endlessly circling one of such farms, inside was a new couple of farmers, they only had a small field to their name at moment and no children, but the wife was pregnant, those two knights felt especially pressed to make sure nothing happened to this barely budding family, off in the distance, they could the light of some of their colleagues doing the same thing.

Iron was shaken, wood stricken, fearful groans and grunts piercing through the silence.

"Over here! The fucker is at the ogre stable!" one of the knights spoke, not even needing to raise his voice to be heard perfectly, one equipped with a lantern, the other with a torch, they ran over in just a few seconds, the door, shut with a heavy lock and chains, was still shaking when they got here.

Throwing quick looks at their surroundings, both spun on their heels, definitely expecting the headless to have tricked them into putting some distance from the farm itself, but no, they stopped before even being able of taking off, standing a dozen meter, the horrid headhunter revealed two axes, forged from black iron, the handle fashioned from some unknown wood, they were able of gleaning a few details.

Such as inscriptions written upon the axe heads, runes or something similar they presumed, spinning his weapons with much fanciness, this display was more infuriating than ridiculous to the seasoned warriors, those axes had probably served to reap the heads of brethren, and this monster was just making them dance in his hands.

Stomping the ground, a circle of purple haze manifesting, the rider's loyal mount manifesting into a torrent of purplish sparks, appearing perfectly to allow its master to immediately start riding forth, the knight with the lantern thrust his spear forward without hesitation, the veiled horse disappearing just as the hit was about to connect, having called upon his steed for no other purpose than this one, the headhunter soared through the air, swinging both axes at the torch wielding knight, confident in his toughness and armour, the veteran traded blow with the creature.

The knight was thrown back, sparks erupting from him, whilst the undead softly landed on his two feet even as dust softly flowed out from the side.

Sliding grip on the axe held in the left hand, as close to the blade as was possible, sliding the one in the right hand to the very end of its handle.

"Seems like this fucker is no longer as clumsy as when first encountered" one of them groaned.@@novelbin@@

"Indeed, you need some precision and skill to hit so hard mid-air"

All three of them began walking to the side, into the clearing behind the farm, the whistling finally appearing, growing intense as the voices following the headhunter around quickly turned restless, to the two southern knights, it almost sounded like there were two distinct factions within the voices, one cheering for the headless, another cheering for them instead.

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In the dark of night, the headless held the advantage of the environment, but it was still a two on one, the silence disappeared for a long while.