Strength tougher than that of an ordinary person. Durability that keeps it from falling unless its head is smashed. A sense of fear that arises from being shrouded in death.
If one were to evaluate them without considering such things, zombies are not that threatening of a monster. At the very least, it meant that a fully grown man armed with armor and a weapon could certainly face one if he confronted it properly.
“Uwaaaaaah!”
“Die! Just die!”
The soldiers, though half-driven by fury, were somehow managing to resist the zombies. As long as they weren't outnumbered and surrounded, if they stuck together and protected each other's flanks, they could fight well enough. 'We can do this.
We can survive.' Hope began to sprout in the mind of a soldier who was fighting shoulder to shoulder with his allies, diligently swinging his spear. The hope that if he joined forces with his comrades like this, he might not have to die.
But…
“Ugh... Ughhhhh?”
“Huh? Hey? What’s wrong?”
The soldier next to him suddenly started screaming and convulsing. The moment he turned to his side at the sudden strange event...
“Huk!”
The soldier was startled. Next to him, his comrade was gone, and in his place was a zombie. The moment he realized there was a zombie right beside him, dripping blood from its mouth and trying to kill him…
“Uwaaaah!”
He thrust his spear with all his might. And the zombie struck by the spear…
“Keoheok....”
Screamed and fell to the ground. Why did a zombie scream? Why did a zombie fall from just one spear in the stomach?
There were more than a few strange things, but that was not what was important right now. His surroundings were now filled with zombies. Not a single ally was in sight; wherever he looked, there were only zombies, and more zombies.
“Uwaaaaaaaah!”
The soldier rampaged, swinging his spear in all directions. There were no allies left. To survive, he had to kill everything around him.
And the number of soldiers showing such behavior began to increase.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Stop it! Get a grip!”
“Uwaaaaaak!”
Screams echoed from all directions, along with rampaging soldiers. The state of the battle turned utterly hopeless.
“Keuk… This is?”
The expressions of the knights, who were encouraging the soldiers and fighting with all their might, grew grim. Some of the soldiers had suddenly shown signs of confusion, then began to rampage like madmen, attacking their surroundings.
“Sir Karlson! It seems the black mage has made a move.”
“Damn it....”
Who doesn't know that?
“What should we do? Please give us your orders.”
Orders?
What kind of orders could he give in this situation? The soldiers were no longer controllable, and the number of zombies was only increasing. What could he possibly do here?
'There's… no way.' The word 'defeat' brushed past Karlson's mind. Even for a powerful warrior who had reached the four-star level, he saw no way to rally his forces here.
And the soldiers were realizing that fact as well.
“Uwaaak!”
“Damn it, we can’t win this!”
“Run! Everyone, run!”
A situation where despair was added to terror. The soldiers of the two families who had taken the lead in entering the bandits’ hideout began to flee without a second glance.
“Do not retreat! Follow your orders!”
“You bastards… Do not retreat! Fight!”
The lords and knights of House Haspir and House Bison tried to rally the soldiers, but the terror-stricken soldiers did not listen to them. With the battle lines already broken, there was no way the chain of command would function properly. The soldiers of the two families scattered, died, and fled.
A complete defeat. The very moment despair crossed the minds of the two lords…
“All troops, form up!”
A group of soldiers appeared from their rear. Lined up with blade-like precision, holding shields at the front to form a wall, they were…
“Viscount Freis!”
“Ooooh....”
The army of Viscount Freis, which had been slightly behind while reorganizing its ranks, had arrived. And Viscount Freis commanded in a loud voice from the center of his soldiers.
“Hold the wall and block the zombies! All troops, advance!”
Following his command, the infantry, with their large shields at the forefront, advanced at a slow pace, their steps in unison.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Thump! Thump! Slowly, slowly.
But the legion of foot soldiers, approaching with sure and steady steps, was imposing. With shields covering not only their front but also above their heads without a single gap, they looked like a moving wall. Arrows shot by the bandits fell from above, but the soldiers overlapped their shields above their heads to block them.
Of course, the mindless zombies, undaunted by such an imposing sight, shrieked and charged at the wall.
But…
“Kuaaaaaaaargh!”
“Grrr…?”
The moment those zombies clung to the wall, baring their claws and teeth, Viscount Freis's command fell.
“Thrust!”
As soon as the words were spoken, long, thick spears shot out from between the shields. Thrust, thrust, thrust, thrust! The thick, large spears tore sizable holes in the bodies of the zombies clinging to the shields, and sometimes even shattered their heads.
One thrust might not have been enough, but with two, three continuous thrusts, even the persistent zombies had no choice but to fall away.
“Deploy the formation!”
And as Viscount Freis's command continued, his army spread out in a fan shape, securing a wide area. In the midst of the chaotic melee where humans and zombies were entangled, his army had created a safe zone enclosed in a semicircle. This was as far as he could go.
This was all he could do. Pushing forward any further to drive back the zombies was impossible.
But...
“Young Lord Patrick.”
“You’ve worked hard, Viscount. I heard you were quite something in your heyday, and you certainly live up to it.”
“Hahahaha.... I only did as you instructed.”
Although the praise sounded somewhat condescending, for some reason, it didn't feel bad at all. Though he was a young man, younger than his own son, looking at him felt like dealing with a seasoned field commander with more experience than himself.
In fact, the reason Viscount Freis had been able to proceed so smoothly was thanks to this young man who had joined his formation and given him advice. And the role he had asked of him ended here. Pushing back the zombies with an infantry formation and establishing that formation.
From here on, it was Patrick's turn to step forward.
“Can you really do it?”
“Not just me, no....”
Patrick glanced at the 50 soldiers behind him, grinned, and said.
“Just trust us.”
Behind Patrick, 50 soldiers from the Schneider Fief, including Sanson, were on standby. Dressed in light leather armor and holding two swords, one in each hand, their appearance was quite peculiar. The art of twin swords, a rare sight on the continent.
Moreover, where in the world was there an organization that formed a military unit based on it? To others, it would look like nothing more than fooling around.
But…
“Sanson.”
“Yes, young master.”
A hint of elation was visible on Sanson’s face as he answered. It wasn't just Sanson; the other soldiers lined up behind him were the same. The slight trembling of their bodies was not due to tension.
Patrick let out a smirk. 'They must be itching to explode.' He could fully understand.
The moment had finally come to reveal to the world what they had built up through hellish training. Patrick gave them their orders.
“Team One and Team Two, take out the archers. The rest will defeat the zombies and rescue our allies.”
“Yes, sir!”
The reply came without hesitation. However, Viscount Freis, who was listening from the side, was flustered.
“You’re going to divide a force of only 50 men? No, and do you even know where the archers are to be deploying soldiers?”
At Viscount Freis’s words, Patrick smirked and said.
“Leave them be. They’ll do just fine on their own.”
“What does that….”
“Carry out the young master's orders!”
Sanson's voice rang out thunderously. The force carried in that voice was so great that Viscount Freis forgot what he was about to say.
“Oliver, lead Team One to the left. Vincent, lead Team Two to the right and eliminate the archers.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Yes, sir!”
And Sanson himself stepped forward and said.
“The rest will take the front with me. We will defeat the zombies and swiftly rescue our allies.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Good.”
Sanson took a deep breath. Was he nervous? No. This emotion that now enveloped his entire body was not nervousness.
This was...
“Go!”
“Yes, sir!”
The elation of what had been held back for so long finally exploding. As soon as Sanson’s command fell, the 50 soldiers scattered in all directions. They lightly leaped over the wall created by Viscount Freis’s army and rushed towards the zombies.
“We’ve waited a long time, you bastards!”
“We’ll show you who we are!”
“Uwaaaaaaaah!”
And Viscount Freis saw it.
“W-what...?”
It was the sight of aura gathering on the swords of every single one of the soldiers who charged forward. The Twin Dragon Knight Order of the House of Schneider, which would later become a legend. This was the moment they first revealed themselves to the world.
For the past five years. Sanson and the soldiers of the Schneider Barony had keenly realized what it meant for every day to be like hell. The fact that the sun would rise tomorrow was terrifying, and they even thought, 'Wouldn't it be easier if I just died?'
There was even a reckless incident where some couldn't endure the harsh training and openly defied Patrick. But Patrick did not give up on a single one of them. He somehow grabbed them by the scruff of their necks, dragged them, and threw them into the training grounds to be rolled in the dirt.
Training = Hell. Just as that thought was solidifying in their minds. Sanson was the first to raise aura from his sword.
The moment a blue light bloomed on Sanson’s sword, the other soldiers saw hope. The hope that if they endured this hellish pain, they too could become like that. Humans can endure any hardship if a reward is guaranteed.
Starting with Sanson, then Oliver, Vincent, Robbie, and so on… One by one, the soldiers began to raise aura on their swords. Finally, all 200 soldiers of the fief became proficient in using twin swords and could raise aura on their blades.
They had become strong. And now, having obtained that power, they were finally revealing themselves to the world. They were finally putting the power they had gained through relentless training to use in a real battle.
How could they not be joyful?
Swoosh!
Two swords drew a complex yet elegant gleam of light in the air. The zombies caught in that light were soon sliced into two, then four, then eight pieces, falling to the ground in a shower.
Other zombies spotted an enemy and tried to pounce, but before they could even take a step, two twin swords flashed, emitting a brilliant gleam. After the trajectory of aura beautifully embroidered the air, the dismembered corpses of zombies fell to the ground with a thud. The man, who displayed truly demonic skill, spoke to a man who had fallen.
“Can you move?”
“Sir… Who are you, sir?”
The knight from the Bison Fief, who had collapsed at the sight, opened his mouth.
“I am Sanson, guard captain of the Schneider Fief. Please retreat to the allied formation in the rear.”
“Guard... guard captain?”
The knight was more shocked by the words 'guard captain' than the order to retreat. A guard captain was definitely that. The captain of the soldiers in a fief.
Though a knight might sometimes hold the position, it was usually...
“You’re just a common soldier? That’s ridic...”
Flick!
As he spoke, Sanson's swords passed by both sides of his head and emitted a flash of light. And that flash cleanly blew off the heads of two zombies that had bared their teeth at him from behind.
“Please hurry.”
“Ah… I understand.”
Although the man's rank was said to be a soldier, he didn't dare to speak down to him. He hadn't even seen the move from a moment ago. What if the target had not been the zombies behind him, but his own neck…
A chill ran down his spine, and goosebumps rose all over his body. He obediently followed Sanson's instructions and retreated. And as he retreated, he could see.
It wasn't just that soldier named Sanson. All around, soldiers wielding twin swords were indiscriminately slicing up zombies.
“Hahaha. Too slow. Too weak. Fight properly.”
“Aren’t zombies supposed to be slow and weak?”
“Ah, right.”
“Just clean them up quickly. For the confused allies, subdue them if possible, don’t kill them.”
“Yes. Understood.”
The soldiers with twin swords disposed of the zombies more easily than a farmer cutting down sheaves of straw. Twin swords, shimmering with aura, sharply cut the zombies apart. And they subdued the rampaging, confused soldiers as easily as handling a child.
It was a terribly chaotic battle, but their movements were fast and precise, and their swords seemed to display the pinnacle of sharpness. Though only 50 men had been added, the chaotic battlefield was being brought to order. The number of zombies, which had swelled to over 1,000, was visibly decreasing.
At that sight, the rescued soldiers, even in this critical situation, simply watched their deeds in a daze.
“All of them... aren't they at the three-star level or higher?”
“Well, yes.”
At Patrick's nonchalant reply, Viscount Freis's head whipped around as if his neck would break, and he said.
“Are you saying they are mere soldiers?”
“Yes.”
“Where in the world are there soldiers who can emit aura?”
“Right here.”
Looking at the slack-jawed Viscount Freis, Patrick grinned and said.
“Economical, isn't it?”