Rumblle!
The sky roared. Lightning lit the night.
Rain poured.
Vroom!
Engines roared. Tires gripped wet dirt.
A group of 12 armored military vehicles roves through the night, away from the city.
Their destination, the distant mountains covered in forests.
A total of 72 awakened people set off.
The military mission has begun.
Code Name: Last Fortress.
...
In the City.
Purple lightning flashed within the dark clouds above the Demon Tower. Yet not a drop of rain fell.
Eerie dark mist covered the crater of the tower, with hundreds of red eyes occasionally showing, guarding the entrance.
Dozen kilometers from the tower, the river flowed.
Previously, lush and peaceful, but now, dead. Only a raging river flowing violently remained.
The once-great bridge connecting the two sides had collapsed.
Splash! Splash!
Water splashed violently.
The mountain of rubble blocked the riverbed. Previously, water flowed between the cracks, but the water level rose rapidly. And the storm showed no signs of calming.
With no human to control the river flow, only disaster awaited.
Or was it all pre-planned?
...
Not far from the river, several collapsed streets away, a massive supermarket stood, half-collapsed.
A group took shelter from the storm—Vincent's group.
Four slept, while two kept guard, Vincent and Gerold.
The four rested in the corner of the building, while Vincent and Gerold stood guard near the entrance, hiding behind a shelf.
They could see outside, but hardly anyone or anything could spot them.
"The world is getting harsher," Gerold spoke.
The wind howled outside.
Cold, moist air slammed into their faces.
Vincent gazed at him.
"Sighhh," an exhausted, long sigh escaped his lips. "What can we do, Gerold? It is our fate to struggle and survive a few more years."
Their eyes met.
They had the same eyes. Hopeless.
They carried no hope for the future. Deep down, everyone knew. This was the end. It won't get better. It'll only get worse.
Dying of old age or illness was now just a fairy tale dream.
All they could do was struggle to live a few more meager years.
"The number of zombies keeps increasing," Gerold continued.
Vincent's heart clenched.
"The demons keep getting stronger. We can't keep up. Not to mention..." The image of the first demon flashed before his eyes. Gallion the Shadowweaver. "The vanguard of the demons,"
"If only the zombies didn't exist, it would've been a bit easier." Vincent's heart bled as he spoke those words.
It was hypocritical. But he truly regretted it. But regret changes nothing.
Or did he say so just hoping for refutation? Hoping Gerold would say nothing would've changed, even if the zombies hadn't appeared.
"True," But Gerold only confirmed his words. "Gathering resources would've been a lot easier.
Vincent lowered his head.
'It's been more than ten days since I got the last notification for the number of infected,'
He wanted to puke. He was disgusted by himself.
The delayed notification brought him no joy, for he knew. Nothing can stop the virus. It was inevitable.
"If only we could return to how it was..."
Gerold whispered, his eyes trembling with longing.
Silence descended.
Only the howling wind and pouring rain raged outside.
Vincent descended into deep thought, his gaze focused on the outside through a hole in the shelf.
Time passed.
Swoosh!
Suddenly, a figure moved in the distance.
'What's that?' Vincent's eyes squinted.
A deep frown formed on his face.
Adrenaline surged through his body.
He jumped to his feet.
"What happened?"
Gerold tensed up, reaching for his shield and sword.
"Something moved,"
Gerold raised his guard, preparing to fight and activate his ability.
"Should I wake up the others?"
Vincent nodded. "It's most likely the tentacle demon hound. It has turned into an undead,"
However, they couldn't discard other possibilities.
And a zombified tentacle demon hound posed a significant threat. Just not to Vincent, but it didn't mean the same for the others.
Maybe it was even more dangerous than the real thing.
"I'll search the perimeter outside," Vincent glanced at his sword.
But he had to abandon it. The lightning outside was too violent to risk it.
Thud!
Gerold grabbed him. "Don't risk it,"
But Vincent shook his head.
"You five stay behind. I'll request help if needed. If it can wipe me out before I can request help, we can't handle it. Run."
Gerold had to let go.
"Be careful,"
Swoosh!
Vincent ran outside.
Rain poured. It soaked him in a second.
Grrrrkk!
A beastly, choking growl reached his ears as he went deeper into the night.
'There it is,'
Vincent's eyes widened.
Rummble!
Lightning lit the night. The figure revealed.
The tentacle demon hound stood in the distance, where he had slain it.
It had zombified.
The rain muffled its growls.
Swoosh!
Vincent utilized his full speed, rapidly approaching it.
The longer he was outside, the more dangerous it became. Also, when a being turns, there is an initial period of stillness.
If the demon hound snaps out of it and decides to run away, Vincent wasn't confident enough to catch up.
Then, the lives of his comrades would've truly been lost in vain.
Splt!
As Vincent almost reached it, he bit his thumb.
'Activate...'
He extended his arm towards the tentacle demon hound.
'Contract!'
He willed.
A familiar feeling of emptiness and weakness assaulted him as mana drained out of his body.
[Mana: 20/60]
His mana went down in an instant.
A droplet of violet blood flew out of his thumb, towards the tentacle demon hound.
The rain poured, but each raindrop rebounded off the droplet of blood as if the rain itself feared what the droplet carried.
Swush!
As if the demon hound were transparent, the droplet entered its body.
For a moment, a violet black circle full of inscriptions flashed underneath it. But quickly disappeared.
[Congratulations, you contracted an undead]
The notification immediately appeared.
[Name your undead: ...]
'Name...'
The picture of his fallen comrades flashed in his mind.
'How many people has it killed?'
A sudden thought emerged in his mind.
'Your name shall be...'
"Sicarius,"
Vincent whispered, the name drowned in the pouring rain.
[Name: Sicarius]
[Race: Undead]
[Strength: 30]
[Agility: 34]
[Perception: 25]
'Its stats have plummeted. Especially its perception. It fell by almost 20 points,' Vincent analyzed, looking at the it.
Only a few of the tentacles remained. The demon lost them in the battle. Wounds riddled its body, oozing with green blood.
But it remained motionless.
'But there is an advantage to the undead. They have unlimited stamina and feel no pain,'
"Sighh..." Another sigh escaped his lips as he looked up into the endless dark sky.
He couldn't help but glance at the supermarket.
They waited. They were waiting for him to bring back the tentacle demon hound.
Although it killed their companions, they had no trouble making use of it.
But this was the new world.
Each day forward is built on bones—endless bones and rotting flesh.
BOOOM!
Suddenly, an explosion rebounded.
Vincent turned sharply.
It came from the direction of the river.
And it was not thunder.
Splash!
"No..." Vincent's eyes trembled in terror.
His heart sank.
A massive shadow rose in the distance.
Something happened at the river...