Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

"You call that a swing? You are only using eighty percent of your strength! That's just twenty more than the average joe… Are you listening to me?" a loud crack suddenly exploded through the air, a sound the exhausted living had heard one too many times already, lashing his whip with expert handling, the undead that was putting them through what he referred to as 'training', but it really was nothing more than torture with a pretty case around it.

"You need to be capable of using one hundred percent of your strength on a whim, it is of no importance whether you damage your body or not, a foot soldier that is incapable of fighting to the best of their ability is of no purpose" looking down on the eight captured soldiers, all sprawled on the ground, sweaty and paralysed by countless by cramps, they didn't even know why the vile corpse gave them shirts as they always ended up torn to pieces by the merciless whipping.

Their torturer was called Gunlaurgh, a skeleton with the body of a man but the head of a horned reptile, the two horns not completely straight, pointing back.

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He was the head instructor, meaning that he was linked to the training of every member of the vanguard in some way, as all other instructors were taught directly by him, and as such, to handle the task of learning how to train livings had fallen onto his shoulders.

"We are only soldiers… Not knights!" one of them, not quite the toughest one, but certainly the more brave of the eight, always running her mouth even when they all very well knew that Gunlaurgh was not the kind to agree with them even if they spoke pure facts and truth, he was the supreme authority around these parts and any speaking up without authorisation could be punished with excessive force.

"And? Miss Know-All… Where do you think knights come from? That they grow on trees? Sprout from the ground like carrots? Are you under the impression that knights need sunlight, water and a good dose of love to thrive?" stomping down right next to her head, the instructor crossed both arms, casting his obscure shadow over the soldier.

"Even if you don't have it in you to be useful, we have enough resources to make it happen, but now… Surely, each of you will give it your all, right? But if becoming great knights is not enough, how about… If you manage to meet my standards… I will allow you to go see your families again?" brushing his skeletal hands, wrapped in white bandages, against his shoulders.

The gazes of the eight livings were not very enthusiastic, Gunlaurgh began walking back, exchanging words of death tongue with other instructors standing by, all of them were dressed in the same manner, simple black coats reaching up to knees, dark grey pants and boots of dead leather, all carrying different assortments of whips and a simple sword, no matter what it might be that they specialised in teaching, the toolset was always roughly the same.

"You bastard! Do you think we would believe you?! You've done nothing but torture and torment us for the past weeks!" the foul-mouthed one was back on her feet, standing faster than usual.

"See? You still have some energy, why were you lying face first just now? You livings will just slack off at every occasion, won't you? Or is it that you are finally feeling like actually trying?" the head instructor mocked, further fueling the anger of his unwilling trainees.

Clutching the sword she had been given to train with, the soldier ran up to the undead, his expressionless skull telling nothing of what he thought of this little stunt, his crossed arms came undone, reaching from something attached to his belt, it was not the first time a living had tried something of this substance, but she really didn't care for the whip, none of them felt fear for the punishment that was to come, they would refuse to agree to the machinations of the enemy, and certainly to become soldiers of their ranks.

But Gunlaurgh did not grab any of his whips, a few of them he had yet to utilise to flay their flesh just yet, no, he unsheathed his sword, slashing her arm right off, perfectly aimed in between the two bones linked shoulder and limb.

Crying out in pain, the skeleton calmly slung the blood right off his blade, spun it into a reverse grip as he grabbed the living by the nape, striking her in the stomach using the pommel, filthy liquid forced back up the throat.

"You are an unruly one, but I don't dislike that per se, but you have to understand that it is not an offer that we are giving you, there is no choice to be made, you will serve the undead empire, and you will like it- My, would you stop screaming for a second? It's just an arm" still holding her nape, Gunlaurgh forced the soldier to stand up straight.

"Anyways… We are going to rack up the training, you folks don't understand my nice and gentle methods, unlike your three other fellows… The good thing with you livings, is that you can feel pain, a little bit of agony should teach you some manners" throwing her back, stump still flowing with fresh blood, the head instructor waving his finger in the air, the other hand holding onto his belt.

"Someone fix that cry baby up" he called out, three undeads garbed in thick white clothes from head to toe, giving no clue to what sort of undead they may be, unlike the instructors who all had their faces and hands revealed.

Two of them grabbed and held the living in place, stopping her from thrashing around as the third fetched the cleanly dismembered limb, grabbing a bottle from a satchel, the undead doused both of the bloody wounds with the transparent liquid inside, and also some upon their own gloved hand, rubbing it directly against the stumps without a care for the pain this caused.

And then simply pushed the two together, within a moment, all signs of any cut were gone.

The eight livings were used to seeing those undeads in white, although they couldn't tell whether those three were always the same as the previous time, they always used a variety of means to heal up the injuries caused by the incessant whipping as well as all other cuts and contusions caused by training.

From healing spells to elixirs and all else that was possibly available to them, this liquid was not new, but never would they have expected it to be capable of sticking a limb back on.

"The eight of you…" the healing crew left as quickly as they appeared "...You are going to get a great dealing of healing attention from now on, the quicker you do as you are expected, the faster you will get to enjoy the blessing of undeath, you are only test subjects after all, you won't have to fight as beings of life for long, just enough for us to know if I did a good job…"

"What- What about our families?"

"Oh, you mean my earlier proposal? I will make sure to arrange one if you work hard, and to boot… I will make sure that it happens as both you and your loved ones are still alive, since you probably attach importance to that" Gunlaurgh spoke, motioning for the other instructors around to leave.

"Prepare well for our next lesson, Sir Loimos is the one who saw it fit for us instructors to know how to make livings into warriors of the empire, as such, failure will have to be answered directly to him…"

"…Keep that in mind"