As he stared with emptiness, he sighs with exhaustion, seeing the corpse of the undead and the villagers who are women and children.

there is no pitiless on the undead eyes as they have wolf down the children's carcasses.

The village streets were littered with the fallen villagers

No soul had escaped the onslaught of the undead, He had tried to help them, but one by one, they fell to the hungry fangs, with devoured parts of their lifeless body, leaving him alone once again.

Edmund worried they will instantly come back to life if he don't behead them at once.

He put up his sword and he immediately made a stance, without exception he waved the massive sword decapitating the heads one by one out of their bodies.

As the stench of death clung to the air.

Edmund turned his back to the lifeless bodies.

The haunting screams of a woman he was forced to put down echoed in his mind.

With a heavy sigh, he sheathed his massive sword and draped his worn cloak over his shoulder.

The village was lost, its people either devoured or turned.

The village was now behind him, just distant memory now, there's nothing to do anymore in this village.

The sun set in the middle of his head, as he walked aimlessly following the pavement path.

A lush forest at the side of the path, with no destination in mind.

He pressed onward into the forest, His focus never waned, knowing the Undying could lurk behind any tree, ready to pounce with rotting claws and gnashing teeth.

As he moved, the silence of the desolate landscape settled around him like a suffocating shroud.

Around the path soon gave way to a dense forest, its towering trees reaching upward to the sky.

Senses sharp, he drew his sword, wary of threats beyond the Undead—bandits, wild beasts, and desperate survivors could prove equally dangerous in these times of crisis with low supply of foods they will succumb to wicked thoughts.

Venturing deeper, the forest floor lay in eerie shadows under the sunlight that pierced the canopy.

The stench of Undead lingered faintly.

His stomach grumbled, a reminder of his hunger. He needed supplies before the setting sun.

After hours of trudging through underbrush, Edmund reached a small clearing with a crystal-clear lake at its center.

The water sparkled in the midday sun, promising refreshment.

Scanning the perimeter cautiously, sword at the ready, he confirmed he was alone.

Satisfied, he set down his sword, removed his armor piece by piece showing battle hardened scars around his body, and shrugged off his cloak at the lake’s edge.

Naked and unarmed, showing his admiring ripped muscle's, he waded into the cool water, sighing as he cupped his hands to bring the refreshing liquid to his lips.

It tasted like nectar, soothing his thirst and easing the memories of the past.

As he drank, Edmund glimpsed his reflection in the lake’s placid surface.

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He was a man whose noble bearing seemed woven into his very being.

His face was striking, sharp yet delicate, his features perfectly symmetrical.

High, angular cheekbones, while his jawline was chiseled, giving him a look of both grace and strength.

His eyes were impossibly large, vivid, and intense, a deep shade of blue that seemed almost too brilliant to be real, reminiscent of the deep oceans.

Framed by thick, brown lashes, his gaze was piercing, he has intimidating allure.

His skin was clear.

His hair, long and flowing silky, cascaded down his shoulders with brown shade.

He waded deeper into the lake away from the lake's edge, letting the water wash away the grime of battle.

Floating on his back, he soaked in the momentary peace, gazing at the cloudless sky.

He stayed for an bour in this state

He swam out to the lake’s center, powerful strokes cutting through the calm surface.

Underwater, he tried to block out the blood-soaked memories. Here, he felt briefly shielded by the water’s embrace.

Spotting a flash of silver below, he realized a school of fish swam beneath him.

He dove, capturing a trout in his grip, then hauled himself to a rocky surface at the edge of the lake.

He ate the fish raw, the flavor more satisfying than any feast he had enjoyed at court.

Seated on the stone, finally clean and resting after a week since the outbreak, he allowed himself a brief moment of peace.

With a deep sigh, he returned to the shore and gathered his gear.

As he donned his full armor once more, the weight of duty settled upon him.

Edmund scanned around the perimeter around the lake to see if someone would appear.

It was almost night time, he decided to rest at the lake and caught more fish for his supper.

He made a campfire, cooking the trout lined up in his fire that he captured with a makeshift spear, that he made using branches of trees around.

He hauled quite the amount.

As Edmund sat by his campfire eating the burnt trout, he poked the fire coals with a stick, his brow furrowed deep in thought.

Remembering how would have been the case, if he arrives sooner all those people were saved, reminiscing the possible survival of the woman and children.

A twig snapped in the darkness beyond the firelight.

Edmund startled, his hand reflexively reaching for his sword.

A hooded figure emerged from the treeline, hands upraised in a gesture of peace.

"Pardon me, good sir. I mean you no harm,"

the stranger said, his voice was low and gravelly.

"I'm just a humble wanderer."

He said as he smiled.

"I saw smoke rising and it guided me here, thought you might want some companions"

Edmund regarded him warily, but nodded for him to approach.

"You're alone?"

Edmund asked.

"Yeah, just wandering, finding some settlement with people around."

The stranger said as he looked at Edmund.

The wanderer lowered his hood, revealing a gaunt, weathered face and piercing eyes that seemed to see into Edmund's very soul.

"I'm Edmund Crownwell"

Reaching the stranger's hand for a handshake.

"Just call me Malachai,"

As he shakes Edmund hands

"Are you one of the knights of this kingdom?"

He looked at Edmund's armor and saw the insignia engraved.

" Yeah I'm one of the White Dragon Order, I mean the last one"

With a grim smile Edmund said.

" I see must've been hard"

Edmund look at the fire with sorror emotions, he remembered how they all die.

Discarding the thoughts he gets back to Malachai who is looking at him

"So what's your story? How did you end up here?"

Edmund asked with curiosity.

" I just ran for my life every time I saw the Undying"

Malachai laughed.

" What do you mean Undying?"

As Edmund asked.

"Do you mean those foul creatures coming back to life?"

" Yeah that's what we called them those foul smelling maniacs, people called them Undying, because they cant die no matter what you do except bashing their head or decapitation."

Malachai said as he giggled.

"Once you encounter the Undying, you're out of luck for most people, the speed of their movements is terrifying with both of their hands and legs running like a wild dog, no regular running human can outmatched those"

As Malachai said with a grim chuckle.

"Yeah the survival rate is close to zero"

As the fire flickers, they decide to call it a night.

There was something about this wanderer that put him at ease. It had been so long since he had someone to talk with, relax.

At midnight Edmund opened his eyes, Malachai is nowhere to be seen, he's gone.

Edmund checks his surroundings, theres no one, his bonfire died down to ashes as the shining moonlight was his only source of light.

Edmund tries to find Malachai going around the lake, but to no avail.

Edmund shouting Malachai's name

"Malachai!!! Where are you!!??"

Worried the thought of Malachai body devoured by the Undying.

But after an hour theres still no one.

He guessed that Malachai dont want to disturbed Edmund and set off.

What a short meeting, he sighed.

Edmund lay back and gazed up at the wheeling stars.

He thought back to his conversation with the Malachai, and a sense of unease began to prickle along his spine.

Something about Malachai hasn't felt quite right...

Before he could ponder further, a bestial roar shattered the night.

Edmund leapt to his feet, hand flying to his sword hilt. From the shadows, a mass of writhing bodies spilled forth - the Undying, their red eyes fixed hungrily upon him.