Several hours before…
The group watched as Vincent disappeared into the darkness, storming on his newly acquired demon hound.
Gerold turned back.
He could hear the water raging in the distance, sweeping everything in its way.
The grip around his sword and shield tightened instinctively.
"Let's move away from here."
No one complained.
They all stormed forward, creating some more distance between them and the mysterious group.
After they made sure there was enough distance, they changed direction, not following in Vincent's trail, which led back to the base.
"Be careful,"
Gerold whispered, carefully moving through the mountains of rubble, searching for any surviving supplies.
"We don't want to step into the territory of the Iron Hive. We don't know how they'll react. And we are in no position to start a conflict with them,"
The group moved slowly, their guard raised to the highest.
There were only five of them, but danger surrounded them on all sides.
…
Gerold led the group.
His step gradually slowed until he came to a halt.
He raised his hand.
The group behind him stopped, alert.
Swoosh!
He bolted forward.
"Uaghh?"
The zombies ahead caught their scent, but too late.
Shluck!
Green, rotting blood splattered around.
Gerold's sword pierced the zombie's throat.
Thud!
The zombie's head rolled on the ground, detached.
In the blink of an eye, the group slaughtered the few zombies.
Immediately, they began moving, changing location, leaving the detached zombie heads behind.
The lifeless, pupilless eyes stared into the night sky.
The facial skin rotted, sliding off the bone like melted chocolate. The missing flesh around the mouth revealed the teeth, forming what resembled a disgusting, creepy smile.
As if smiling at the fate of its killers.
Swoosh!
The zombie head disappeared.
Only a dark silhouette remained in the sky, rapidly flying away.
Even in death, the undead have no peace.
They do not rest, but feed this world.
Contributing to the food chain. Contributing to the corruption. To the rot.
…
They searched the area, gathering resources.
Gradually, they filled their backpacks with resources.
"Unfortunately, there are very few resources available."
Liam whispered.
This time, they came out to scout for resources, and each only brought a backpack.
They intended to secure the supermarket and then return, but it slipped through their palms.
"This mission is a disaster."
Another spoke.
"We made all the sacrifices, defeated the tentacle demon hound, and those bastards stole the supermarket full of resources right from our hands."
A tiny man gritted his teeth, unwilling to accept the injustice, but with no choice but to do so.
Gerold shook his head.
"It's alright. We are alive. As long as we are alive, we can try another time."
Murderous light flashed in his eyes.
"There will be chances for revenge. We'll make them pay for stealing what our comrades sacrificed for."
No one responded.
But murderous light flashed in their eyes, steeling their determination.
Silence descended.
They walked, alert, looking around.
"Stop,"
Suddenly, Gerold stopped.
"What is it? We already cleared this area of zombies."
A man said.
But the frown on Gerold's face only deepened.
"Something is strange,"
Swoosh!
He bolted forward and stopped before the corpse of a zombie.
The head was missing.
"Something is wrong,"
He raised his guard to maximum.
"Retreat."
He ordered.
"This is as far as we go. Retreat to the base."
No one questioned his decision.
In this new world, there was something even scarier than the zombies and demons.
An unknown enemy.
Swoosh!
Swoosh!
They rushed through the rubble, abandoning their stealth.
They felt it.
An impending calamity.
Their hearts raced.
Adrenaline pumped through their veins.
But what one runs from, inevitably catches up to them…
Screeeeech!
A demonic cry tore the night.
"No…"
The morale of the group plummeted.
Their faces darkened.
"Keep running,"
Gerold ordered, not stopping, his eyes locked on the sky.
A figure flew.
A featherless, flying demon.
The red eyes stared at them, as a stalking predator stares at prey.
Swoosh!
The air tore.
Light erupted from Gerold's shield.
Boom!
The flying demon slammed into the shield.
"AGHHHHHHHHHH!"
Gerold roared, his feet planted into the ground and unmoving as he thrust the sword at the demon.
But it instantly soared into the sky, not giving him the opportunity.
"Gerold!"
Liam grabbed his daggers, preparing to assist.
"Don't worry about it."
But Gerold stopped him.
"Focus on getting away. I'll deal with its attacks."
The group hesitated for a moment, but obeyed.
They continued moving, while Gerold followed.
Occasionally, golden light illuminated the night as Gerold activated his ability to defend against the demon.
BOOM!
The demon slammed into the shield, unable to injure the group.
'Damn!'
Gerold cursed internally as he watched the demon soar into the sky, with no chance for a counterattack.
His breath grew ragged. Sweat covered his forehead.
The constant activation of his ability drained him.
He couldn't hold on much longer.
"Agh…"
He gritted his teeth and moved, catching up to the group, moving at the back.
SCREEECH!
The demon screamed in the sky.
Everyone observed it.
And Gerold prepared for another incoming attack.
"Gerold, leave the next few attacks to us. We can handle it."
"Alright,"
He agreed, for he knew he was approaching his limit.
And he didn't intend to be the hero. He wanted to survive.
He wanted to live. At least one more day. Even if the world was rotting.
BOOM!
The demon slammed into a distant rubble hill.
"What?"
The group froze.
Boom!
It soared into the sky and then slammed into another, closer to them.
Rubble flew around, dust rose.
Demonic cries tore the night.
"What is it doing?"
The demon's action made no sense.
Swoosh!
Gerold's eyes widened.
His heart skipped a beat.
He realized.
"RUN!"
He roared, dashing forward.
He threw his backpack away.
"Abandon all extra weight! AND RUN!"
The group snapped out of their bewilderment.
"Gerold, what's going on?"
Liam quickly caught up to him, questioning.
'His face…'
He noticed.
'Gerold is… terrified?'
"This is no mere craziness. It's hunting us!"
Gerold revealed hastily.
"It's attracting the zombies around. It wants to use them to kill us. Then, it'll freely consume us."
As the group listened, terror filled their hearts.
"Those are no mere mindless demons. We underestimated them. They are growing. Adapting to their circumstances,"
"Ughhh…"
A man covered his nose.
The ever-present stench of rot suddenly intensified.
"HURRY!"
Gerold panicked.
"The zombies are getting closer!"
SWOOOOH!
BOOOOM!
A figure crashed before them, blocking the way.
The dust settled, revealing the flying demon, standing on its two legs.
Uaghhh!
They could hear the undead growing closer.
The worst possible outcome was about to become...