Then just as relief started to set in, a whole new horde rushed out from behind the right hand corner of the crossroads.

It was a smaller horde, maybe only thirty or forty zombies strong but everyone including Bertrand was too busy reloading and repairing their mana veins.

The new horde rushed past the stragglers, not even bothering to divert their path and instead choosing to trample them if they got in the way.

This wasn’t normal zombie behaviour, usually they would choose to swerve around their brethren if they could manage it and there was more than enough space in the street to allow them to do that.

This sort of single mindedness only happened when they were given a command.

Seer, this assault was being commanded by a watcher.

The dread that assailed Bertrand failed to take purchase though as no further attackers rushed out at them.

This new horde seemed to be the only opponents they had to deal with currently.

Slamming into the house walls, they began to clamber their way upwards, using each other as a fleshly ladder to get higher.

Kicking off from the zombies below them and trying to reach the humans above them.

It was terrifying, Bertrand was so transfixed by this demonic sight that he had forgotten to plug his new mana core in and was just holding it blankly.

Snapping back to it only when one of the faster linemen let out a shot, having repaired their mana vein in a quick two minutes.

He must have hit at least half a dozen of the zombies, toppling their fleshy pyramid.

Having been snapped back into reality, Bertrand quickly got back to work on plugging his mana core in and then moved on to repairing his mana vein.

A couple more musket shots rang out while he was repairing his vein and by the time he was finished only a few zombies remained.

Pawing at the brick walls with their broken hands and gazing up at the defenders with blank eyes

A few more musket shots granted them mercy from their horrendous existence.

And there was nothing left to do, nothing except to keep defending their section of the makeshift fort.

Some hundred twenty zombies had died to them, if these were the sorts of results the other defenders were getting then this should be a rather successful defence. Bertrand thought cheerfully, fear forgotten in the bliss that was success.

The sudden sounds of screeches and yelps coming from both their left and right sides quickly ended these hopeful thoughts of his though.

A few linemen repositioned themselves, turning around and taking up defence positions at the rear of the house, in response to the screams.

Brick walls were all well and good but they had one fatal flaw, they had rough edges and ragged bumps, this normally wouldn't prove an issue in a defence. as normal people wouldn't be idiotic enough to climb up the brick walls and scrape their hands so raw that bone could be seen.

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Zombies, on the other hand, were idiotic enough to climb up them, that’s why the front side of the house had its brick walls shaved cleanly.

Bertrand figured they just got some mages to help them out, it was only a few houses that had this special treatment after all.

Sadly this treatment didn’t get given to the back of the chosen houses, meaning if the outer fort was breached they could get attacked from behind very easily.

Seer this shouldn’t be happening, if it was any other legion in this situation they would be able to hold their ground but it just had to be them.

It was almost too coincidental, as though it had been planned.

But then again the seventh legion had been wiped out and they had actual artillery and proper officers, not to mention quite a few mages.

Who Bertrand had to begrudgingly admit would have proved helpful no matter the situation.

Unless, shit what if watchers were infected mages?

If that was the case then everything would make sense, or at least the outbreak would make sense.

The Collation had countless experiments they did every year aimed at improving their mage's power.

What if one of those experiments went wrong and the resulting aberration was a watcher?

The patient zero of this whole zombie plague, virus, infection, whatever the shit it was.

Probably virus if he had to guess, if it was a plague other people should have gotten sick and turned into zombies but he had seen none of that happen.

Bertrand had to stop focusing on his conspiracy theories though as his fellow skirmisher came stomping over to him.

Making sure to really put their weight in every step that way there was no risk of them slipping, they made their way over to the railing beside him.

Leaning against it, they stared out at the crossroads for a few seconds before they turned around to face Bertrand.

“Wasn’t aware another skirmisher joined us, by the time you started shooting it was too late for me to stop. Next time let me shoot first and then you shoot after, if we play our cards right that's around half a minute we can delay the zombies for. That half a minute could save us.” They stated, staring intently at Bertrand.

Not as intently as the fanatical Olivier but still intently enough to make him feel uncomfortable.

“Sure, that sounds good to me, Mr?”

“Blindie, lost a bet so that's my name till the end of this year.” He continued when he noticed Bertrand’s puzzled face.

Before Bertrand could say anything in return though a sudden rumbling sound reached his ears.

Another horde was approaching.

Alongside Blindie he readied his beamer, aiming down towards the crossroads as he waited for the horde to appear with bated breath.

When the cause of that noise presented itself though, it was no horde.

It was a horrific centipede as tall and as wide as a horse and no doubt far longer, even after a full ten seconds had passed with it hurtling around the corner and charging down the crossroads at them, its full length still hadn’t been revealed.

Those ten seconds weren’t spent idle though, as half a dozen musket bolts had slammed into it. Most got deflected by its strangely angled carapace but two managed to hit it with enough force to crack open its amour.

Unsure about what to do Bertrand starts to aim at its twisted legs and prepares to fire but that's when he realized the legs were human limbs.

Human arms and legs were what propellered it forth, this thing wasn’t some oversized centipede, it was an abomination crafted out of countless corpses.

Seer, the adaptors and watchers had at least had a humanoid shape but this thing didn’t even resemble humanity in the slightest, Seer he hoped those legs it had were just mockeries of what human limbs looked like and not actually from people.

Another few musket bolts hit it and that's when Bertrand opened fire as well. He couldn’t afford to think at a time like this, only to act.