Arknightcraft Modpack
Chapter 484: Does This Count as a Hero?
Without anyone realizing it, a squad of Ursus regular troops had already drawn close to the settlement.
Compared to the clueless villagers—and the Infected who, at best, were armed and whose combat experience amounted to little more than street brawls—these disciplined Ursus soldiers were a case of sheer dimensional suppression.
From their tightly coordinated formation, their efficient tactical movement, and their razor-sharp awareness alone, Steven could easily tell that this was no ordinary Infected patrol squad cobbled together from rabble. Even among the Ursus imperial forces, soldiers of this caliber were rare.
"An elite squad of the Ursus regular army, showing up in a place like this… now that's interesting," Steven muttered, rubbing his chin with a faint smile, still very much in spectator mode.
The more chaotic the situation became, the calmer he and Talulah needed to be—to analyze what kind of play Black Snake was staging, and what it ultimately wanted.
On the village square, the Infected who had been about to exact revenge on the outspoken villager never got the chance. Instead, it was the Infected who had seized control of the village who sensed something was wrong first.
As Brull's trusted subordinates, their combat ability might not have been exceptional, but their sense for danger was sharp. Otherwise, surviving on the frozen tundra as an Infected would've been impossible.
Unease crept into the leaders' hearts.
The village was too quiet.
Aside from the chaos around them, even the ever-present howl of the icy wind seemed muted. There was only one explanation—
A third party was here.
But by the time they realized it, it was already too late.
Almost the instant suspicion arose, before they could signal a retreat, the Ursus soldiers—now within striking range—burst forth from every direction.
These Infected were among the toughest fighters on the tundra, but the squad they faced was even more elite than standard regular troops. In the blink of an eye, the Infected lost all control of the situation. Most were subdued on the spot, neutralized with frightening efficiency.
Only the few who held hostages—those restraining the village chief and moving to deal with the villager named Ross—avoided immediate capture.
"So you really never had good intentions. This was a trap from the start!"
The Infected holding the village chief glared at the silent figures clad in Ursus' signature black armor and masks. The emblem on their gear left no doubt as to who they were.
There was no way these soldiers could've arrived so quickly unless the villagers had reported them.
At least, that was what the Infected refused to doubt.
Which meant their revenge had been justified all along.
From the very beginning, the villagers had never trusted them.
"We didn't—" the village chief rasped, having just regained consciousness from the punch. He paused, then straightened, a hard resolve settling into his eyes. "But seeing how you've acted… perhaps this is what you deserve. Infected like you, this is your retribution."
If he'd known from the start that they were capable of this, he would have reported them immediately. And now, escape was clearly impossible.
"Don't come any closer!" the Infected shouted, tightening his grip. "I've got a hostage! Release my people, and I'll let this old man live!"
The Infected who was holding the village chief hostage no longer had any interest in arguing with him.
The moment he realized that the regular troops had been using the brief pause to quietly close in, he reacted at once—jerking his weapon up and pressing it against the old man's throat as he shouted a threat toward the soldiers.
This was his last lifeline.
If he couldn't escape from the hands of the army, then nothing else mattered anymore.
Yet the black-clad Ursus soldiers acted as though they hadn't heard him at all.
They paused for only a brief moment, then continued advancing.
These regular troops were nothing like the Infected patrol squads the Infected were used to encountering. It wasn't just their superior equipment or discipline—more terrifying than anything else was the fact that, from beginning to end, they made no unnecessary sounds at all.
And just as the pressure became unbearable—just as the Infected were about to snap and kill their hostages in fury—the soldiers moved.
In a flash, those still holding weapons were shot down on the spot. The remaining Infected were subdued and restrained before they could even process what had happened.
The village, which had been under Infected control mere moments ago, changed hands once again.
Only this time, the ones in control were these eerily silent regular troops.
The village chief, who had witnessed everything firsthand, had already prepared himself to die. What happened next, however, far exceeded his expectations.
Those terrifying, seemingly unstoppable Infected had been utterly powerless before the regular army. Before he could even register what was happening as a hostage, it was already over.
"C–Captain… thank you for coming!" the village chief stammered as he finally regained his senses. He hurried over to one of the soldiers who was clearly an officer, watching as the troops bound the captured Infected and piled them together.
"If not for you, who knows what those damned Infected would've done to us! If there's anything you need, our village is willing to do anything—anything at all!"
The officer didn't even look at him.
His gaze remained fixed on the bound Infected as he spoke in a low, hoarse voice, as though his throat itself had been ruined.
"Where are your companions?"
"Where are the rest of the Infected?"
"Tell me, and you'll be given a chance to live."
The words were quiet—almost a whisper.
Yet to the captured Infected, they rang out like the devil's own murmur, clearly and unmistakably reaching their ears.
For a brief moment, silence fell.
No one stepped forward. No one answered.
The officer showed no hesitation.
He gave a slight nod to a nearby soldier.
A split second later, there was a flash of steel—and one of the bound Infected was run straight through the chest, collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
"I won't ask twice," the officer said flatly.
"There is only one slot."
"Whoever wants to live must speak before the others."
Still the same emotionless tone.
But this time, the Infected no longer had the will to endure.
The message was clear: in the eyes of these soldiers, their lives were worth nothing.
"I—I'll talk! I'll talk first!"
"Me! They're nearby—I can take you there, just spare me!"
"Don't kill me! I'll be your informant! I'll work from the inside!"
"Please—!"
In an instant, the silence shattered.
The Infected erupted into chaos, each scrambling desperately for survival. They shouted over one another, abandoning all restraint.
As for their companions—no, their fellow Infected—their fates no longer mattered at all.
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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[1] https://www.patreon.com/collection/55713?view=condensed
[2] https://www.patreon.com/posts/156361807?collection=55713
[3] https://www.patreon.com/posts/156361807?collection=55713
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