Before the Apocalypse, John used to run up the long stairwell on the other side of the hill as a form of exercise and always remembered the burning in his legs after finishing the quick ascents. Now, he rushed up and by the time he reached the flat top of the hill, he was barely warmed up.

Looking behind him, the stairs curved around the steep western side of the hill, forming a quarter-circle and leading him into the Charles' Royal gardens from the west, where people built a second entrance for the convenience and easier access of the rich people living in the gilded district.

Focus on the things up ahead, he chided himself and pushed the metal gate open, taking the first step inside.

Even in late autumn, the gardens looked well cared for and the five packs of Rothounds up ahead almost seemed as if they were patrolling around previously decided paths to create a dangerous mesh of security throughout the whole perimeter.

This is a problem…

He watched the packs for the next ten minutes for any deviations or unexpected changes but found out they were following their routes like clockwork.

Hmm, it's gonna be rough, he thought after finding a twenty-second blind spot, where the leftmost pack walked behind the decorative wall of bushes and became isolated from the view of the pack doing circles around the small pond in the middle.

If he could, he would try to sneak through, but unfortunately one of the packs was standing on the other side of the garden, blocking the only way…

Wait, the brick wall surrounding the garden is barely four meters tall… that shouldn't be hard to get across.

With a new plan in mind, he carefully sneaked through the left side, avoided the leftmost pack, and used the decorative bushes as a cover during his climb.

The wall was old, with paint mostly chipped away, and with enough cracks to form an easy set of holds all the way up.

Chuckling, John thanked his friend for taking him to the climbing gym last year and in a few seconds was already sliding over top and carefully dropping down on the other side.

Now, he was standing in front of Charles' castle, staring right at the massive drawbridge and the last obstacle blocking his way inside. Right in the middle of the lowered bridge stood a single Rothound. Unfortunately, this one was of the larger-than-average variety…

[Rothound Alpha ⋆]

Where the usual beasts reached up to his waist, the Alphas were more of horse-sized monstrosities, and with a wall to his back, John was wary about a head-on engagement. Luckily, for now, it was lying on the wooden bridge with its snout between its paws, and seemingly in a deep slumber.

How do I do this?

Spending the next couple of minutes observing its behavior, as far as he could tell, the Alpha was just a stationary guardian of the castle's gate.

The other thing he noticed was that the drawbridge was bolted and permanently welded into the ground with a roughly made rope railing on both sides, which in hindsight made perfect sense. How many tourists would want to walk over a drawbridge with a five-meter deep moat under them?

Hmm, could that work?

Pressing himself back to the wall and down, he sent his stiletto up into the sky, over the drawbridge, and then let it carefully descend right on the spot where the railing was affixed to the castle's wall. It, being made out of rope, couldn't resist the sharp edge and after a few cuts was severed.

The Alpha's sleep seemed undisturbed, so John willed the stiletto to repeat the same cut on the other side of the railing, making the whole net-like structure fold down.

Now, it was time for the hard part, forcing the beast over the side and down into the moat.

His only choice was to move both minions into positions above the beast's head and attempt to sneak as close as possible before going all out, using everything in his arsenal and hoping it would be enough.

The first sign of its rousing came as he stepped on the foot of the bridge, roughly three meters away from its ugly head, which he took as a go-ahead and willed the stiletto to bury through the left eyelid into the eye underneath.

Likely due to the lack of discernible smell, the Alpha failed to react to the rapidly incoming danger in time and caught a debilitating wound on its head, which was immediately followed by a bolt of lightning into its snout.

Meanwhile, John burst into the fastest sprint he ever did, making the four meters to its left side in under half a second, jumped over a clumsy swipe aiming for his shin, fell to the crouch and blasted the half-standing beast point-blank with the Wave of force.

The translucent panel of energy caught it into its right foreleg, tearing some ligaments from the rough impact, and pushing it a meter and a half backward.

Not enough!

Noticing the problem, John rushed forward, braced his shield over the left shoulder, and tackled the unbalanced beast a mere moment before it was able to find a firm footing, making its back legs slide over the edge.

It, feeling the lack of solid ground behind itself, started to desperately paw the ground with its forelegs, attempting to pull itself back, but John didn't give it the opportunity, and once again pushed forward, feeling like a Spartan during the film 300, pushing it further in.

The moment he got more than half of its body over the edge, gravity took over and the beast slid over with a panicked whine.

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A loud snap of breaking bone followed immediately after, but something was off. There was no sound of impact, making John carefully lean over and stare in amazement at what just occurred.

Both of the Alpha's back legs got tangled up in the net-like railing and left it dangling over the side of the drawbridge like a pig in the slaughterhouse.

What followed next was an exemplary execution where John willed this stiletto to cut enough holes into its neck for it to start bleeding, and waited until the monster stopped struggling and gave him his reward in the form of four blue piles.

With the threat vanquished, the path through the gatehouse and into the outer courtyard was open, and John tentatively walked inside.

The difference in guards was as stark as it was disturbing because the courtyard was filled with ranks of skeletons. Most were of the basic type, but spread amongst the rows were some wearing worn down rusted armors and short swords in similar conditions, and behind it all, standing at attention, was a single bulkier one also wearing a helmet.

Thank god it's all skeletons, he thought as he started to carve through them with his stiletto.

Anything skeleton-like was extremely vulnerable to its affinity, and because the majority of the guards were flimsy common enemies, the whole courtyard—a little over a hundred guards—was cleared out in under twenty minutes leaving him with the commander who impassively watched as all of its undead troop were destroyed in front of it.

[Skeleton commander ⋆]

The previous six skeleton knights were regular blues with slightly more toughness and speed, but this one was theoretically on the same level as the Rothound Alpha so a little bit more care wouldn't be amiss.

Feeling for the cooldown of the Wave of force—something he figured out after the evolution—he felt it almost ready. Waiting for the next two minutes did the trick, and he was as prepared as he could be for the small challenge up ahead.

During the break, he took time to observe the commander more thoroughly, and among other things noticed three short bone spears tied behind its back. He was glad he did, because the moment he willed his stiletto to slide into a small gap where the rusty helmet met the top of its chest armor, the commander reached behind his back and whipped one right at his head.

The spear flew like a bullet, giving him barely enough time to slightly angle his shield to the right, and hit with a loud clang.

Fuck, that kicks almost like a charging Rothound.

Preferably, John would now turn back and stall the clash for as long as possible, but with the threat of the sharp projectiles, he had to keep his eyes on the target.

That target was currently rushing toward him at a speed similar to his sprint with a sharp clacking sound every time its boney feet impacted the polished stone floor which echoed off the tall walls around them.

The dance started with a wicked thrust to his center which John sidestepped and followed up with a blow of his own. Unfortunately, the commander moved at a similar speed but a much higher skill, easily turning his thrust into a follow-up swipe to his left leg and forcing him to change the blow into a hasty block.

With this exchange, the pace was set, and John was forced to follow the rapid rain of blows with everything he got.

The evenly matched beginning was changing by the second, making John accept a few shallow cuts just to prevent the more dangerous thrusts and fall deeper and deeper into the disadvantage.

If he were counting only on himself, this fight would have been his last. Unable to outrun, outlast, or outperform his opponent, it became only a matter of time before he slipped and took the first major injury, creating a cascading failure leading to his death. Luckily, he wasn't alone, and his flying weapon was already closing on the monster's demise.

Suddenly, the commander slashed with full might right on his shield, making a deep reverberating blow and pushing him a step away, then it reached behind its back in one fluid motion.

What is it… Oh, fuck!

Slightly off balance and unable to fully react, he took the bone spear on his shield at a very bad angle, making it ricochet to the right and take a chunk of his biceps when it passed mere millimeters above his right arm.

That right there would have been the wound leading to his death, but luckily, he only had to hold on for the next six seconds which he bought with a point-blank Wave of force before the monster's head flashed golden and everything—armor included—fell apart turning into a bright ball of ash.

Sitting down on one of the stone benches inside the courtyard, he took long calming breaths and carefully observed the wounds he just took.

There were four shallow gashes on his legs, one cut on his right forearm, and the nastier wound on his biceps. Before the Apocalypse, such a wound would require a visit to the hospital and maybe even surgery. John wasn't sure how crippling a centimeter-deep cut into an arm was, but going by the look, it wasn't good.

Now though, he wasn't sure what to do. The arm somehow worked even with the injury, and only itched, making him want to scratch it all the damned time. To distract himself, he thought about the drops.

Let's see the new card… Apocalypse deck!

[Wicked wounds

Can be linked with any ability bearing a melee or projectile tag to make wounds harder to heal for a short amount of time by effectively halving all regeneration and healing for the next fifteen seconds]

That was an interesting card. Not exactly fitting for his setup, but with open slots on his stiletto there was no reason not to use it.

After finishing his thirty-minute rest, he rechecked his wounds and just as he expected, the shallow cuts on his legs and arm were mostly closed up with long dry scabs already formed over them. The biceps unfortunately wasn't healing that well, leaving the gash open in an angry red scowl.

At least it's not bleeding, he thought after tying it over with a strip of cloth torn up from the bottom of his shirt.

The arm ached and was a bit slower to move, but otherwise working, making him hopeful it would heal up on its own over time. Having nothing better to do, John decided to take a quick peek into the inner courtyard.

Passing through the second gatehouse, he stepped into the inner courtyard, and just as Colonel Reeds promised, there were indeed two monsters inside.

Standing next to a waist-high pile of bones was a creature of similar shape to a Deathfiend but with half of its size and instead of being only a living skeletal monstrosity, this one was covered in rotting flesh.

[Juvenile rotfiend]

Moving his eyes up, roughly four meters above the other side of the courtyard stood a skeleton on a small balcony, wearing dusty regal-looking robes and an ornate staff with sickly green crystal on the top. It was overlooking the place like a king of old who was about to give a speech to his subjects, and commanding respect with its regal pose.

The yellow name and the big star pointed out the significance of the foe ahead.

[Sector overlord ★]

Ohh, this is…

Suddenly, the empty eye sockets ignited in a pale green flame and a whispy soft voice echoed through the whole courtyard.

"Ahh, new challengers… hmm you are alone… Are you brave or a fool?" It asked, making him turn around and attempt to run back.

"No, no, no, there is no escape from here… only death." And with that, the gate slammed down in a loud bang, and the walls ignited in the same pale-green flames, surrounding the whole inner courtyard and creating a square shaped arena for the quickly approaching fight.