Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

Emet-Selch crouched at the corner, glancing at the distant Great Cathedral of the Church of the War God. Its appearance seemed normal, except that the once splendid doors had vanished into thin air. Some ugly creatures of a different kind were gathering under the huge statue of the War God, crawling on all fours on the ground.

"These things are more numerous now." The Bishop of the Church of the War God bit his fingernails, angry for a reason, because Emet-Selch had just seen one of the different kind at the base of the statue... doing something quite profane.

At this moment, Bishop Meckel of the Benevolent Church approached and crouched beside Emet-Selch: "Aren’t you worried about your little Apprentice?"

"Not worried. In my memory, he’s the kind of brat that even Death would find annoying and consciously avoid." To be honest, Emet-Selch was indeed worried, but considering the Apprentice’s accomplishments over the years—anyone else would have probably been burned and buried in the northern cemetery by now—only he was still hopping around and attracting cute girls.

If it wasn’t for him possessing some real skills, such an annoying brat would have been sacked and beaten long ago when he was an Apprentice under Emet-Selch.

"By the way, I’ve read the battle report, you said you’ve seen those things?"

"Yes, years ago to the North of Carterburg, a Chaos Cult summoned such creatures. It just so happened that Malin stumbled upon their activities, or else their numbers would have grown beyond our management." As he said this, Emet-Selch glanced at the Bishop of the Church of the War God who was preparing to initiate an attack: "The thing they’ve found this time, I fear it has been targeted by coordinates, and the different kind are coming through those coordinates. If the Insectoid contamination at Silent Hill hadn’t occurred, these creatures wouldn’t be enough for the Church of the War God to slaughter, but no one expected the situation to take such a terrible turn... Wait a minute, what is that?"

Emet-Selch noticed the commotion at the gate; those creatures, akin to Ghouls, were frantically scattering, and then a group of Skeletons adorned in splendid armor emerged from the gate.

"What are those? Undead of a different kind? Since when do they wear plate armor?" Emet-Selch scratched his head. Observing the emergence of those Undead, he glanced at Meckel: "Bishop, sir, you better go and inform everyone, we have new guests."

Meckel patted Emet-Selch’s shoulder: "No problem, Quasar. Hide yourself well. I’ll go tell them."