Edmund barely had time to process the events before a bestial roar shattered the quiet of the night. The sound was unnatural, guttural.

Every nerve in his body snapped to alertness. He leapt to his feet, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword hilt, gripping it with white-knuckled intensity.

From the shadows, a nightmarish sight emerged—a mass of writhing, twisted bodies spilling forth like a wave.

They moved as a single unit, a monstrous entity, driven by an insatiable hunger that gleamed in their red glowing, lifeless eyes.

These were the Undying, a cursed legion animated by forces beyond mortal understanding.

Their flesh hung in tatters, skin grey and waxy, with veins dark and pulsing just beneath the surface.

His eyes strained, desperately searching for the source of the sound.

Before he could fully comprehend the horror bearing down on him, the creatures were upon him.

A wall of ravenous jaws land clawing hands surged forward, their eyes fixed hungrily on him, each seeking to tear his flesh apart.

Instinct took over, and Edmund drew his blade with a steely hiss.

He swung it in a broad, desperate arc, As horde of Undying close on him but Edmund Hack one another.

Feeling the resistance as steel bit into decayed flesh and bone, the weight of each strike reverberating up his arm.

Each blow sent black, thick blood splattering across the ground, coating the earth beneath his feet.

Yet, despite his efforts, they seemed endless.

Every creature he felled was quickly replaced by another, their cold, grasping fingers reaching out with persistence.

Edmund's strength began to lose, as he thighly grab his sword. Exhaustion crept into his limbs like lead, slowing his movements, blurring his vision.

As he slain the last closest to him, another batch of horde is coming. As they move in unison dead lock on Edmund's flesh.

He staggered back, cold sweat runs to his body with grim certainty—this was how it would end he thought.

He could feel it in his bones. His muscles burned, and his arms trembled with the effort to keep his sword steady.

And then, through the chaos, a movement caught his eye.

He glimpsed a figure lurking in the shadows near the treeline, watching the battle unfold with unsettling ease.

"Malachai!! Run away now!"

Worried that malachai will fall victim to the Undying.

But he did not reponsd instead he grins.

The man who had once spoken to him with kindness, the wanderer who had offered camaraderie, now stood back, observing that sent a chill through Edmund's soul.

Horrorified Edmund's expression as he watched Malachai's form begin to shift, his skin splitting and body twisting,

his very bones cracking and reconfiguring.

It was a grotesque transformation, flesh bursting apart in a grotesque metamorphosis until the man was no longer recognizable.

Malachai stood a hulking monstrosity, its features twisted into a mask of disfigured flesh.

Its face was an abomination, with eyes that gleamed with cruel intelligence and fangs bared in a nightmarish grin.

Rage seared through Edmund like a white-hot brand burned away his fatigue.

Malachai had been a lie, a trap, set to lead him into this hell..

With a wordless snarl of rage, Edmund redoubled his efforts, Edmund gripped his sword and rose to his feet once more, defiance blazing in his gaze.cleaving a bloody path through the Undying horde.

Carving a bloody path through their ranks.

His movements were precise, almost instinctual, as he wove between their grasping hands, his blade slicing through flesh and bone with a fury.

Edmund's skill and fury were too much.

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With a final, mighty blow, he burst from their midst.

Malachai watched from the treeline, his death-tainted features twisted in a look of mild amusement.

His voice rang out, cold and taunting,

"You fight well, Sir Edmund. But in the end, it don't matter. The Undying are too many, too eager to rip your flesh."

As he laughed eerily

Edmund spat blood, his chest heaving as he struggled to keep his footing.

"You trick me!"

he growled, his voice raw with fury.

"I trusted you, I thought your a companion after a long time without company you're the first that I talk with since fleeing from the City."

"But you're just another monster."

Edmund said as he stared at Malachai disfigured face of flesh.

"Am I?"

Malachai replied, his tone almost curious, as though the accusation puzzled him.

"I am simply a servant, doing as I was bid. My master seeks to claim your soul."

"Your master?"

Edmund repeated, the pieces falling into place.

Realization struck him like a hammer blow.

"Are you the one who did this? The source of the Plague?"

As Edmund asked trembling hands, anger swelling up inside him.

Malachai smirk

"No,I am not, I'm just merely a herald, an architect. But I have had a hand in the Undying plague. "

With a shriek that shattered the night, the creature that had once been Malachai launched itself at Edmund, moving with unnatural speed.

Edmund barely managed to dodge, his sword swinging up to intercept the creature's clawed hands.

The edge bit deep into its flesh, and black ichor sprayed across the forest floor, the stench of decay filling the air.

The creature lashed out, hammering Edmund with a barrage of brutal blows, causing his armor full of dents.

One claw caught him across the chest, making claw marks and blood oozing out, the force sends him flying to a tree, as he stand back up and stumbling to his feet, his vision swimming. In that brief moment of weakness, the monster seized its opportunity, lunging at him and bearing him to the ground.

Edmund snarled, ripping his dagger from its sheath and burying it to the hilt in the abomination's eye.

The creature wailed, thrashing in agony, but its grip only tightened.

Filthy claws raked across his face, leaving trails of blood, and the creature's fanged maw drew closer, its breath a putrid stench.

Edmund groan, reaching for the dagger at his side, and with a desperate thrust, he buried the blade in the abomination's eye.

A piercing wail from the creature's throat, its body convulsing in agony.

But it cping to him, it grip Edmund tightly, and he could feel its fangs inching closer to his throat.

Summoning every ounce of strength he had left, Edmund heaved and twitch his body weight to the side, rolling them across the loam.

The creature's back slammed against a fallen log, drawing a pained hiss, momentarily stunning it.

In that split-second, Edmund's hand found his discarded greatsword.

With a mighty effort, he wrenched it free and swung it in a powerful two-handed arc.

The blade cleaved through the monster's arm, severing it at the shoulder in a spray of ichor.

A guttural scream escaped the creature's throat, its remaining eye wide in pain and fury.

For what felt like an eternity, they clashed, trading blow after blow, the forest ringing with the sounds of steel against talon.

Despite the creature's ferocity, Edmund's skill and sheer determination kept him alive.

Wounds leaking blood, he grip his sword in trembling hands, gore-slicked steel gleaming in the moonlight.

At last, with a final swing of his sword, he severed the creature's legs, sending it collapsing to the ground with a thud.

The creature stared at him with its remaining eye, lips curling back in a pained snarl.

As Malachai eyes widened in shock as he crumpled to the ground, black blood bubbling from his lips.

"Impossible,"

he wheezed.

"I... cannot die..."

"You're wrong,"

Edmund snarled, planting his boot on creatures chest and wrenching his sword free with a sickening squelch. in a fountain of gore.

"We're all mortal. Even abominations like you."

Edmund limped forward, chest heaving, blade poised to end it.

The beast gazed up at him with its one remaining eye, a strange calm settling over its features as it spoke in a voice barely more than a whisper.

"So… passes the last… light of… a dying… world.

It spoke, its voice a rasping whisper.

"So...passes the last...light of...a dying...world."

Edmund's brow furrowed, a sense of dread creeping over him. "

Dying? What do you mean?"

A choking, gurgling laugh bubbled from the creature's ruined throat.

"The Undying… plague… it draws… near. All… shall… fall with in its path, Even… you."

Edmund's face hardened, but he leaned down, gripping the creatures head with one hand and forcing it to meet his gaze.

"What do you know of this curse? I shall grant you a quick end."

The monster gave a slight, almost dismissive shrug.

"I… know… little. Only… that it… is old. Older… than your… kind. Unleashed… centuries… past. During… the Black Death… your kind… suffered."

Edmund's eyes narrowed as realization dawned.

"The Black Death? You speak of the great plague that ravaged the land, claiming countless lives?"

The information struck Edmund with the force of a thunderbolt.

"The Black Death?"

he repeated, struggling to process the implications.

"You speak of the great plague that ravaged the land, isn't too long ago, how did it appear again, and I know it already has a cure"

The creature gave smirk and laughs.

"It mutated… stronger evolve.. with guidance from my master... It… transformed… the rats… that bore it… into… something… else. Carriers… of the… plague."

The knight's grip tightened on his sword.

"If I can trace this back to its source, perhaps find some clue to halting its spread, the realm might yet be saved."

"Too late..."

the creature rasped.

"It has...spread...far and wide. Even now...it consumes...all in...its path. Your...struggle...is futile."

Edmund drew himself up, eyes flashing.

"While im breathing, i will not stop or rest until I have found a way to save the remaining humanity, no matter the cost."

"Then...you will...die...alone."

The monster's ruined lips curled up in a ghastly smile.

Malachai shuddered once, then again, before he lay still.

As Edmund observed, Malachai's body began to decay rapidly, with flesh peeling away to discover bare bone.

In no time, the wanderer was reduced to nothing more than a pile of dust and tattered rags.

A distant wail reflected through the night air, before it abruptly became silent.

Edmund stood, out of breath, over the remnants of his adversary, with blood dripping from his sword and his own wounds.

He felt a grim sense of satisfaction, knowing he had dealt a blow against the forces of darkness.

He rose, cleaning his blade and then sheathing it away.

The creature's words echoed in his thoughts.

However, as he turned to check the bodies of the Undying scattered around, he realized that it was merely a hollow victory.