“What’s happening?” Marvin stared with wide-open eyes at inexplicably fading blue dots, his voice filled with dismay. “Lena, show the projection from one of the devices outside, now.”

The Artificer master nodded, her hands quickly interacting with the buttons on the screen. Then, before the terrified and wary gazes of everyone in the room, images of the battlefield showed themselves.

Oxdale’s soldiers were facing unknown entities. They seemed blackened and burnt. Though their bodies lacked the usual parts like limbs, lungs, and hearts, they attacked with a primordial ferocity, unhindered by the damage caused by the human in front of them. Chopping off their legs and they would crawl with their fangs sticking to the ground, taking half of their bodies away, and they would still bend and slither their way forward. They were relentless, fearless, and deathly.

Prior to this, the number of casualties was just a handful since the fighting force had done a great job covering up for each other to shuffle the wounded back. Now, facing this new threat, the blue dots on the screen or disappearing at an alarming speed, concerningly noticeable even to the bare eyes.

“Are they zombies?” Lena called out.

“Zombie?” Marvin asked, turning his head at her. “Explain, fast.”

“They’re quite similar to the undead. Basically, these monsters are already dead. Their bodies, however, are under the control of something.”

“Undead?” It was Ira’s turn to lose his calm. “Is that word implicating that forbidden faction?”

“They are not like those undead according to what we’ve seen,” Lena said with a contemplating gaze. “Undead don’t afraid of death itself, but they still shun the incompleteness of their bodies. Their flesh takes a lot more effort to maintain compared to the living, so they will always think twice before charging. These monsters, they’re like frenzies on drugs and sickness.”

“Any way to deal with them?” Marvin asked.

“Aim for the head, destroy their nervous system,” Lena answered after a brief frown. “And try your best not to get bitten. This will be quite a burden for the Maester to treat.”

Marvin immediately snatched the communication device and gave out instructions to the field captains and their men around Oxdale’s walls.

It was then that, on the hologram screen, more red dots showed up on the perimeter.

“For God’s sake,” Marvin cursed. “There goes your time, Meinhard!”

The principal didn’t respond to the sarcasm, too busy being occupied with his own thoughts.

“We must be ready to retreat inside,” Meinhard finally said his mind. “Both the Maesters and Arcanists haven’t yet recovered their mana. Even the mighty host of Warriors are on their breaking point.”

“The mana wall is ready,” Lena said. “We can switch to defense at any given moment. Tell Gaius to fall back. Let the automatic weapons at the bunkers do their job.”

Marvin gritted his teeth, realizing he had no other option.

Gaius, the master of the Warrior Guild in Oxdale, was sitting on his war horse, looking at the battlefield. The middle-aged man had an angular face, his crew-cut hair straight and pointy, and most of the Warriors in Oxdale followed not only his combat capability but also his appearance. Donning his old and worn set of armor, carved with the many battle scars of iron and blood, Gaius looked like the incarnation of a god of war. Though, at this very moment, even that god-like appearance couldn’t help his shaken hand and his upsetting eyes.

The monsters coming back to life frightened him, for no enemy was more frightening than those who didn’t fear death. Yet, before his very eyes, they fell and rose up again, crawling their mutilated bodies to an endless onslaught against his battle brothers.

Gaius got himself together on a whim, shouting orders for his men to fall back. As for himself, he was still ignoring the order for himself to get to safety, seeing a new horde of beasts approaching his position. He would have to be the last stand for his lieutenants to retreat safely.

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Similarly, like how Gaius was at the east gate, the north and south also had two High Crusaders showing up and fighting as rearguards for their men. All of them had received instructions to take down the monsters, so they stood their ground with confidence. The zombified monsters had lost their defensive instinct, and the only thought in their mind, if they still had it, was to attack and kill. That was what made them both terrifying and vulnerable, for an experienced Warrior could exploit that with ease.

The west gate, though, wasn’t so lucky, for the only High Crusader Herald here had been bitten when he tried to rescue his companion early on. At first, he fought and stood his ground with little regard for the wound. However, the infection quickly spread, making its way to his heart, even though he had utilized all of the resistance abilities of a typical Warrior. This toxin didn’t work like anything the men had seen, making the usual method of isolating a part of the body ineffective. The field Maesters were still struggling to cleanse his body with all types of herbs and healing substances available to get him back on the frontline as soon as possible.

The clopping drawing closer could be heard from a distance away. All the town folks could feel the weight of their rising heartbeats as they sensed the ground shaking. The fighting had been going on for hours, and the sun was on its way down, but the battle didn’t seem to be showing any sign of stopping just yet.

Jack stood under the eaves of the bakery, looking at the clouds growing gray with every passing second. Sophie, Stefan, and the families of the Harper household had already gotten to the shelter Abraham had set up close to the town’s center.

“It’s time,” jack said to himself.

Then, he stepped inside the house and put on his equipment.

The west gate soon fell into chaos without someone taking on the rearguard action. The day grew dim, and men’s vision grew limited, giving the monsters the chance to strike from pockets of shadow.

It was clear that there would be no reinforcement coming from the commanders in Oxdale. All the elite forces had been dispatched, and the likes of Meinhard, as well as other powerful existences, had to preserve their strength for the next seemingly unpredictable attack wave.

The solider knew all too well of their dispensability, so they could only try their best to make it out of this mess in one piece.

A Low Crusader Warrior was struggling with an undead Cobalt Crocodile. The monster had metal-like skin, making piercing through its head a formidable task. After its first death, a bizarre reaction took place on its hide, emitting a silvery smoke. The Warrior was not very aware of this initially, only focusing on his fighting retreat, but he soon realized something was off, his body weaker, his stamina depleted, and his head spinning with dizziness. It was evident that he had been poisoned by a cobalt compound in the air.

The Cobalt Crocodile itself already had a simple attack pattern, so losing its mind didn’t make it any less dangerous. It kept trying to throw its body or tail, with a few occasional jaw snap, at its exhausting prey. Finally, the Warrior was finally knocked to the ground when its spiky skin managed to cut his back as he was turning to flee. The Cobalt Crocodile quickly ran forward, smelling blood in the water, its wide-open mouth full of open wounds and rotting odors of burnt flesh. Even with its premium defensive skin, fire had somehow made its way inside the creature’s body and was still burning from within.

As the pair of razor-sharp teeth was about to end the soldier’s life, a shadow suddenly dashed out of nowhere. In a blink of an eye, a sound of a small explosion occurred, and the Warrior was pushed back. As he tried to get back on his feet, he saw the form of a crocodile lying twenty meters away, its head distorted with a fist-shape hole on it.

The Low Crusader Warrior looked in amazement at the small figure with a pair of faint shimmering wings coming out from its feet like an angel in a body-hugging black outfit. The little one’s face was covered with a veil of smoke, making a clear contrast with the aura around him.

“Find your way back,” a somewhat childish voice reminded the Warrior of his reality.

The man immediately complied, nodded in appreciation, then left.”

Jack’s gaze was toward the battlefield, his hand still numb after the blow. The Fleeting Might set was even more powerful than he had imagined. He was also glad that he had put points to his stats and skills to withstand the returned force.

You have used 10 stat points.

Your Strength Attribute increased from 40 -> 55.

Your Agility Attribute increased from 18 -> 33.

You have used 6 skill points.

Martial Art Mastery (Herald, Passive)

Level: 4 (requirement for next level: Str >= 33.)

Effect:

Grant basic knowledge of utilizing the whole body as a weapon.

Fighting Force (Herald, Active, Single Target – Self)

Description: Unleash your strength upon enemies.

Level: 2 (requirements for next level: Str >= 13, Spr >=8)

Mana cost: low mana cost.

Duration: 1 minute.

Cooldown: 5 minutes.

Effects:

Enhance your body with one of the following effects:

+11% Str.

+6% Agi.

+6% Spr.

Niemis’ Blessing (Herald, Active, Multiple Targets)

Description: Let the Nightblade God guide your way.

Level: 3 (requirement for next level: Spr >= 35)

Mana cost: Low mana per second.

Cooldown: 0s.

Can be cast on multiple Nightblades. Each target will require more mana.

+7% Agility.

+6% Strength.

+7% Spirit.

“Let’s begin,” Jack murmured as he dashed into the heat of it.