Rise of The Undead Legion

"Bloody hell," Dave muttered as he was finally stopped, thankfully due to the dissipation of the effects of his demonic ascension ability and Stampede. The two skills finally out of effect enabled Dave to be propelled by the ever so decreasing inertia force then finally met the ground. After a long skid through the rough terrain, a huge amount of damage taken Dave found himself laying on his back staring at the dark skies of Tartarus.

In front of Dave were maggot infested, cesspools of blood and human waste, quite literal, the bodies of men, so deformed, and so mangled and misshaped that they could not be called humans, and should not. The mere deformities, on them, as their limbs were fused together, their faces stuck against each other even and their atrocious yet pitiful selves called for salvation that would never come made Dave gag. The mere sight of these poor souls was enough to cause Dave a great deal of discomfort, for even if this was just a game. This was going too far.

Dave looked around, the area he was in was just a small part of a much wider range of more of these pools and gutters of human waste. He checked his map, finding that the portal he needed to take to go back was too far away from his current location that it would take him at least a day's worth of sprint just to cover half the distance.

He pulled up his teleportation scroll, half expectant yet half knowing that it will not work. The notification that appeared in front of him didn't surprise him much. An error message that the Scroll could host a valid teleportation gate. An outcome that should be expected since Nicholas himself told him to go back to the same gate that brought him into hell.

Dave cursed and began his march toward the gate. It would take him a long time, but he has to deal with the outcomes of his failure in trying to escape Asmodeus's notice.

Dave's trek took a long while, and after four hours, the worst came to happen. The nauseating howl of a dragon, far too atrocious and far too cruel sounded in the distance. La-Shmir had come.

The dragon was going to be a bad introduction in Dave's current dilemma. Having to battle it would be an inevitable outcome if the dragon were to notice Dave. But one thing came to Dave a symbol of fleeting hope.

The dragon didn't come directly to Dave's location, but rested a few miles away, on top of a mound of disfigured corpses. This was understandable the dragon's lair. The corrupted looking dragon made this place its home, and from the appearance of the dragon's form, and the poor creatures suffering here, it was no brainer to understand that the dragon had made its skin and armor from the remains of the things suffering here.

Dave took the longest and most roundabout way from the dragon. In the ever so continuous throws of the sufferers, their pain and agony turned to a whimsical song that described pain to one that never felt it, a description of colored agony that even a blind man could see and feel. In this chaos and in this much lifeless noise, Dave marched through agonized men and women, unable to help them for it was not his purpose and also incapable of as if he had made a mistake in trying to liberate them, the dragon was bound to know. A dragon would hoard its treasures and guard them with its life, and if one were to take some of the dragon's keep, the beast would hunt it to the end of the world. And rare were those that escaped a dragon's wrath. And Dave was not going to test his luck for no gains.

La-Shmir was not a treasure hoarder, or at least not treasures anyone would deem as valuable as gold. This dragon hoarded corpses and cadavers and half living things, it kept them close so that the dragon would use their bodies and their skins for itself. In the dragon's eyes, these things made its weak hide stronger, it meant survivability and survivability means life and life are more precious than gold.

Dave hid from the dragon's sight, among the corpses, and kept moving away, while always keeping something between him and the dragon, there was always a boulder or a gathering of corpses, and sometimes a small hill that denied the dragon's eyes from sighting Dave.

Hours went by, long and arduous, where Dave had to keep his patience from losing to his need to leave this place as fast as possible. Once he judged that he was as far away from the dragon as possible Dave began sprinting away.

The dragon's eyes are amazing, and Dave knew that even if he was no longer able to see the dragon in the distance, one unlucky moment, where the dragon would look in the general direction where Dave was headed was all the bad luck he needed for the dragon to come and give chase.

Looking around, Dave noticed a small dry ravine. He moved toward it and jumped in it was enough to hide Dave fully from the notice of the dragon if it were to look at where Dave went. And it was wide enough to give Dave ample space to sprint to his heart's content in the direction of the portal.

What Dave failed to judge was the fact that he was in hell, and nowhere in hell was safe. The ravine was the dwelling place of something that wasn't capable of challenging a dragon in his territory. Yet, it was brave enough to steal corpses from it and witty enough to never get caught.

A creature that walked on four legs, similar to those of a scorpion, pointy and sharp, bug wide and large enough to put a hole into a human's chest. Its waist was slim not even the width of a man's arm, it looked unproportionable to the rest of its body that was looming over Dave. The creature had four sets of eyes, like a spider, and it had a four fanged jaw, each fang was the size and the sharpness of a top-quality dagger, as for the rest of its teeth, they were small, like those of a saw but definitely sharp.

The creature had an exoskeletal carapace, like that of a bug.

***

Corpse Eater

Level 600

Tier (Epic)

Alignment [Demonic]

Danger Level ☠

Damage 150,000/200,000

DN 50,000

MA 50,000

HP 12,000,000

Skills:

[Culinary Degradation] A corpse Eater can consume any wasted, rotten, or old food or flesh to restore its health.

[Strength in Numbers] a Corpse Eater is rarely alone, and if one were to be found alone, many others will come to its rescue once it calls upon their name.

[Jaws] an attack by the corpse eater using its jaws will cause a lacerating effect. It can only be healed using a high tier healing spell or a Max Potion.

Lore: Corpse Eaters are trash eaters, mainly they feast upon the leftovers of any of the predators of Tartarus, and one of their favorites, is the massive hoard of the corrupted Dragon La-Shmir. However, due to their weak nature compared to the rest of the hunters and predators of hell, it compensates for its lack of raw power by numbers. If you see one, remember, hundreds are laying in wait and hiding.

***

Dave took a step back, and even before he would attack, the Corpse Eater screeched loud enough to wake the dead. More screeches followed after, and soon, Dave was surrounded by more than a hundred of this creature.

Dave drew Durandal, half sighing, "Man, this is gonna take a long time."