Dawn had finally arrived, casting a pale light over the cityscape below. Ron stood on the rooftop, his body glistening with sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His muscles screamed from exertion as he held a gleaming steel sword in his hand, his grip white-knuckled with determination.

The night had been long and grueling, but Ron refused to give up. He had pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion, honing his skills with the sword, determined to master the house’s sword art. Yet despite his high vitality stat, Ron's body ached, revealing the toll that the intense sword art practice had taken on him.

Nonetheless, his Greylock Sword Art had raised to level two with Ron being quite adapt in utilizing it. However, with extra power came a great cost. As Ron swung the sword in its active form, he noticed that his mana reserves were depleting similar to how the MP goes down when using a skill. He even discovered an indicator that showed him the gradual depletion of his mana while using the skill. Which then led him to discover how to fill his mana back up again. Besides acting as a strengthener, the Greylock Breathing Formula also acted as a recharger. Each motion of the formula drew in the mana around, coalescing inside his body.

The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together, but there was one glaring exception - the disabled title: Curse of the Envious Serpent. Ron's heart sank as he recalled the dire implications of that title.

The Curse of the Envious Serpent was a dreaded affliction known to severely hamper the rate of mana absorption in the body. In Ron's case, if he dared to return to Elder Dragon Fantasy, his mana regeneration would be reduced to a painstakingly slow pace. It was the cause of why Sauron Greylock was deemed as the untalented among his siblings. But here on Earth, the restriction was not imposed on him. His body was free to gather mana in its intended rate.

But Ron's train of thought was abruptly shattered as he heard a haunting sound that cut through the air like a knife - the moans of zombies. The once peaceful morning was now filled with a cacophony of guttural groans and eerie wails, echoing all around him. Without missing a beat, Ron sprang into action. Running towards the rooftop edge, eying at the far distance. He squinted against the dawn light, trying to discern the figure that caught his attention. A familiar silhouette emerged from the distance, gradually coming into focus. Ron's eyes widened in recognition.

‘Aldo?’ Ron thought.

He was the short and stout bearded man he met after getting saved by a damsel. But he wasn’t glad seeing the hero that went to fight the humanoid invader. Fear started to slip into the crack of his heart. Aldo’s teammates were nowhere to be seen, except for someone lying motionless behind Aldo's back, looking as if they were clinging to the last thread of life.

This scene alone was enough to tell him that their mission was a failure. The heroes that had promised him victory were now broken into pieces and he could not imagine how it all went wrong. His sight brought him back to Aldo, who was fighting alone amidst the zombie horde. The rapier in his hand moved with lethal grace, a dance of death amidst the relentless tide of flesh-hungry monsters. The pointed edge of the weapon pierced through the skulls of the zombies, sending them crashing to the ground, even as more of them closed in from all sides.

Ron watched in awe as Aldo fought on, his movements a breathtaking display of skill and agility despite the heavy build he had. The rapier was an extension of his very being, an instrument of precision and deadly intent. Each thrust and parry was executed with unwavering focus, a testament to Aldo's prowess as a brilliant fencer.

But despite Aldo's valiant efforts, the odds were overwhelming. The zombies kept coming, their sheer numbers threatening to overwhelm him at any moment.

Ron took action, leaping from one rooftop to another, closing in on Aldo’s location. As he closed the distance, Ron's rifle emerged from his inventory with a smooth and practiced motion. He brought it up to his shoulder, his eyes scanning the area for targets. The sound of gunshots echoed through the air, mingling with the shrieks of the shamblers as they dropped before their lunges could reach Aldo.

Ron's fingers moved with precision as he took aim, his eyes narrowing in concentration. He squeezed the trigger, and the rifle roared to life. The gunshot rang again and again, dropping one zombie at a time, giving Aldo more breathing space for him to pave a path toward safety. Aldo immediately noticed Ron who was on the edge of the rooftop, the moment the first shot rang in the air.

Aldo forged ahead, spotting Ron on the rooftop providing aid. He cut through the horde of zombies that closed in around him. His blade sliced through rotting flesh and brittle bones with a sickening crunch, but the relentless tide of undead seemed endless. He fought with all his might, his muscles straining, sweat pouring down his face, and his heart pounding in his chest.

But it was a losing battle. More zombies kept coming, drawn by the cacophony of gunfire from Ron's rifle and the guttural moans of the undead. They stumbled and lurched towards Aldo, their eyes vacant, their limbs twisted in unnatural angles, and their flesh putrid and decaying.

Aldo's breathing grew ragged as he pushed on, his senses on high alert. He even squealed a bit out of pain as last night's wound opened up again with this fight for survival. But the haunting cries of the zombies, the bone-chilling sound of their gnashing teeth, and the squelching of their rotting flesh underfoot made him endure the pain.

He glanced over his shoulder, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the sheer number of zombies closing in from all directions. Their relentless advance seemed never-ending, a relentless tide of undeath that threatened to overwhelm him. He gritted his teeth, his mind racing for a way out of the dire situation.

Aldo's movements became more desperate as he tried to find a way through the sea of zombies. He swung his blade with wild abandon, dispatching as many undead as he could, but it was a losing battle. Their numbers were overwhelming, and the fatigue was starting to set in. He stumbled back, his breath coming in ragged gasps, as he tried to come up with a plan.

But no plan could let him escape this situation. Hope was lost and he could not rely on Ron who was merely a normal human being. Just as he resigned himself to a grim fate, a glimmer of realization flashed through Aldo's mind. The gunshots had stopped. ‘Ah, he must have left,’ thought Aldo.

Aldo's heart sank as he resigned himself to his fate, accepting that death was inevitable in the face of the relentless horde of zombies. His eyes glazed over, ready to embrace the void. But then, a flash of sunlight reflecting off a glimmering steel blade caught his attention, pulling him back from the brink.

As he turned his gaze toward the source of the light, Aldo's jaw dropped in awe. It was Ron, the man he thought had fled, now standing in the midst of the street, wielding a steel sword against the oncoming horde of undead. The sight was nothing short of astounding.

Ron moved with an otherworldly grace, his sword slicing through the air with precision and finesse. He was a whirlwind of steel, deftly dispatching zombies with every swing, his movements fluid and calculated. It was as if he was dancing with death itself, a masterful display of skill and prowess that defied all logic.

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Aldo couldn't believe his eyes. Ron was just an ordinary human, but there was something otherworldly about him, something that set him apart from the rest. He moved with a confidence and ferocity that seemed almost supernatural as if he was tapping into a wellspring of power that was beyond mortal comprehension, similar to how a hero was.

"Hey," Ron shouted. "Are you just going to stand there and let them eat you?"

Aldo snapped out of his stupor, his eyes suddenly blazing with a renewed determination. He tightened his grip on his rapier, the silver blade gleaming in the dawn light of the sun. With a swift and fluid motion, he lunged forward, his rapier slicing through the air with deadly precision.

The zombies that had been closing in on Aldo were caught off guard by his sudden resurgence. His rapier struck true, piercing through their decaying flesh with surgical precision. The sound of metal meeting bone echoed through the air as Aldo moved with the grace and skill of a seasoned swordsman.

Ron's footsteps echoed loudly in the moans of zombies around him as he finally reached where Aldo was. He stood before the man, his armor and clothes pristine, without a single trace of blood to mar their gleaming surfaces.

Aldo couldn't help but be taken aback by the stark contrast between the Ron he had first encountered and the man standing before him now. Gone was the hesitant and uncertain figure that Aldo had first laid eyes upon. The Ron standing before him now exuded an air of confidence and power, his gaze steady and unwavering. There was a newfound strength in his stance, a sense of purpose that seemed to radiate from every fiber of his being. He eyed Ron up and down, trying to make sense of the transformation that had taken place. "You...you look different," Aldo said.

"We can discuss that later," Ron said. "First, we need to leave."

Ron turned towards the nearest window, gesturing towards it with a nod of his head. "Can you jump high?" he asked Aldo.

Aldo's eyes followed Ron's gaze, and he saw the window on the third floor. "I...I can try," Aldo replied. He had never been much of a jumper, and more so when he was injured with a fainted teammate on his back.

Ron's gaze locked onto the unconscious woman slung over Aldo's back, and he felt a surge of conflicting emotions. It was Jess, the same woman who had saved his life before. Her normally feisty and strong demeanor had been replaced by a pallid, battered figure, covered in dried blood that stained her torn jogger clothes. Her exposed skin revealed bruises, and cuts, bearing witness to the fierce battle she had waged against the humanoid invader.

"Hand her over," he said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. Aldo nodded, his grip on Jess tightening as he carefully passed her over to Ron. The unconscious woman slumped limply in Ron's arms, her breathing shallow.

Without wasting a moment, Ron sprang into action. With a few swift slashes of his blade, he cut through the surrounding zombies, creating a path for them to move forward. Aldo followed closely behind, keeping a protective eye on Jess as Ron moved with unmatched agility and precision.

Ron moved like a whirlwind, leaping and bounding through the decaying cityscape, his movements were fluid and graceful despite the chaos around them. He crushed a zombie under the sole of his boot, propelling himself forward with another powerful leap, reaching the second-floor window of a nearby building. His hand grabbed onto the window ledge with a vice-like grip, and he pulled himself up, never once losing his momentum.

Aldo watched in awe as Ron continued his acrobatic display, leaping from window to window, until reaching the rooftop, as if he was defying gravity itself.

Finally, Ron reached the edge of the rooftop, hauling himself up with one hand as he carefully laid Jess down on the solid surface. He spared a glance at Aldo.

The stout man was forging a path for himself as he was far from capable of doing what Ron just did. He had confidence in his fighting skill, but not in his physical prowess. A figure fell from the sky, and Ron was there right next to Aldo. The man slash and dice those zombies around them before his arm wrapped around Aldo’s waist. But his arm length wasn’t enough for the wide circumference of Aldo’s waist.

An awkward gaze between Ron and Aldo lasted for a few seconds before Aldo spoke first. “Just fucking grab me by the collar,” Aldo said, denting a bit of his pride for saying it out loud.

Without hesitation, he grabbed Aldo by the collar of his clothes and leaped towards the nearby building, following the same path they had taken before. The wind whipped past them as they ascended, the adrenaline pumping through Ron's veins. They reached the rooftop in a blur of motion, landing with a thud as Ron released his grip on Aldo's collar. The stout man stumbled back, while Ron stood upright. His gaze fell on Jess and he immediately carried her in his arms.

“Follow me,” Ron spoke to Aldo, who was still recovering on the floor of the rooftop.

Without waiting for Aldo's response, Ron took a confident stride forward, his boots hitting the rooftop with purposeful steps. Aldo scrambled to his feet, his complaints dying on his lips as he hurried to catch up with Ron. The man was already several paces ahead, moving with fluid grace as he leaped from one rooftop to another, navigating the urban jungle with ease.

Aldo followed behind, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to keep up. He pushed himself to his limits, his muscles burning with exertion as he pushed off the edge of one rooftop and landed with a jarring impact on the next. They reached the rooftop just as Ron disappeared through the entrance to the staircase, leaving Aldo to follow behind, his legs protesting with every step.

Ron's footsteps echoed down the dimly lit corridor as he reached Imani, who was pacing back and forth with a furrowed brow. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the unconscious woman cradled in Ron's arms. She opened her mouth, likely about to ask about the gunshots that had roused her from her sleep, but the sight before her left her speechless.

Imani's gaze flicked from the woman in Ron's arms to Ron himself, her worry palpable in the air. She took in his disheveled appearance, the tension in his jaw, and the determined glint in his eyes. She knew something serious had unfolded, and her curiosity was momentarily forgotten.

Ron's voice was low and urgent, cutting through the tension that hung in the air. "Imani, she's injured. We need the first aid kit," he said, his eyes scanning Imani's face for a response.

Imani nodded without hesitation, her concern etched on her features. She rushed back to her room, returning moments later with the first-aid kit clutched tightly in her hand. She knelt down beside the injured woman, her gaze locking with Ron's in silent understanding.

"Let me take care of her," Imani said, her voice steady despite the urgency of the situation.

“Are you sure?” Ron asked.

“I’m a nurse,” Imani said with a brief smile.

Her experience as a nurse was evident in her confident movements as she began to assess the woman's injuries, her skilled hands working swiftly and efficiently.

Ron watched Imani with a mixture of relief and gratitude. For someone who knew the basics, he could at least attest that Imani knew her thing and he could trust her to provide the necessary medical care in this dire moment. He hovered nearby, ready to assist in any way he could, his eyes never leaving Imani as she tended to the injured woman.

Imani's focus was unwavering as she cleaned and dressed the woman's wounds, her movements precise and gentle. She worked with practiced efficiency, quickly assessing the severity of the injuries and administering first aid accordingly.

Aldo walked up to the room, belatedly seeing the sight of Jess being treated. He nudged Ron by the side with his elbow.

“Does she know what she’s doing?” Aldo asked in a whispering tone.

“She’s a nurse,” Ron said, and Aldo nodded.

Imani looked up from where she had been attending to Jess, her expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Ron approached with Aldo in tow. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of the newcomer, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features.

Ron stepped forward, his voice calm but determined. "Imani, another one needs your help."

Imani blinked, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected arrival of another person needing medical attention. She looked Aldo over, assessing his injuries with a critical eye. Her brow furrowed as she took in the extent of his wounds, her mind racing as she quickly formulated a plan of action.

"Alright," Imani said finally, her voice steady despite the surprise. "Bring him over here."

Ron couldn't contain his impatience any longer. Despite Aldo being in the midst of receiving treatment for his injuries, he knelt down beside the bearded man.

"What happened, Aldo?" Ron asked, his voice rough with anticipation. "Did you guys kill it?"

Aldo's face reddened with shame as he hung his head, unable to meet the eyes of Ron.

"We...we tried," Aldo rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it was...it was like nothing we've ever seen before."

Ron's heart sank at Aldo's words. He had hoped for a more definitive answer, but it seemed that the situation was more dire than he had anticipated.

"What do you mean?" Ron pressed. "Tell me everything."