Chapter 17: Returning to the Capital with Corpses

Fortunately, the zombie hadn’t been bludgeoned to death by the Lord’s crowbar. It was still very much alive and kicking... What an incredibly bizarre way to phrase that.

Regardless, as Xiahou Yan and Lawrence cautiously approached, they immediately noticed that while the zombie on the ground was sprawled out and immobilized, its chest was still heaving. Its shriveled claws twitched slightly—proof that the crowbar strike hadn’t completely finished it off.

The Lord was overjoyed. He quickly snatched up the hemp rope from the ground, tossed the mangled rooster aside, and, with Lawrence’s clumsy assistance, trussed the unlucky zombie up like a turkey.

The rope had previously been specially treated and soaked in sesame oil, giving it exceptional durability. Using it to tie up a half-dead undead creature was total overkill. Watching a zombie that had been ferociously trying to tear them limb from limb just moments ago now lying securely bound before his eyes, Lawrence felt as though he had followed his Lord into a deeply surreal dream. It wasn’t until the Lord lightly tapped him on the head with the crowbar that the living-dead guard finally snapped back to reality.

"Let’s go. Take our little buddy here back to camp!" the Lord said, nudging the zombie on the ground with the tip of his boot.

With a cloth sack stuffed in its mouth, the zombie let out a muffled wail. Even though it had been beaten into a severe concussion by the crowbar and hog-tied with hemp rope, it still thrashed madly on the ground, doing everything in its power to get as far away from the Lord as possible. Clearly, Xiahou Yan’s inexplicable intimidation effect on the zombie was still going strong.

Lawrence suddenly remembered a crucial problem. "How are we supposed to bring it back?" he asked foolishly. "My Lord, we only rode two horses out here."

Xiahou Yan pinched his chin, thoughtfully examining the two horses standing a short distance away. These beasts had remarkably strong nerves; a dramatic zombie hunt had just unfolded right next to them, yet they were still casually grazing on alfalfa, completely oblivious to the fact that their Lord had just taken a stroll past death’s door.

"Mr. Tom Lawrence..." Xiahou Yan said, staring at the two horses. His brows knitted together, hesitating to speak.

"Please speak, my Lord," Lawrence said, nodding attentively.

"I feel like..." Xiahou Yan let out a long, sympathetic sigh before smiling at his guard. "...your horse seems to be quite a bit taller and stronger than mine..."

The living-dead guard’s intuition told him that the Lord’s smile harbored ill intentions.

Standing on a hillside at the edge of the camp, Alice Comstock gazed into the distance with a worried expression.

Someone in the caravan remarked that their Captain of the Guard looked like a tall, proud white poplar tree! Another immediately scoffed at the idea, saying she looked more like a devoted wife waiting by the shore for her husband to return. Stranded in the Infected Zone, these bored individuals trying to find joy in sorrow burst into laughter as they pictured the scene.

The bizarre events of the previous night must have drained too much of the swordswoman’s energy. Resurrected from the dead, Alice Comstock hadn’t groggily woken up in her tent until half an hour ago. Immediately afterward, she received incredibly shocking news from her good friend, Anjie Rendall: The Lord had ridden out of the camp with only a single subordinate, heading straight toward the zombie-infested outer perimeter of the Infected Zone!

Blinded by her anxiety, the frantic swordswoman nearly charged out of the camp with her longsword to play the role of the lone savior. Thankfully, Master Laurie managed to talk her down with a great deal of earnest persuasion, stopping her reckless behavior. And so, for the past half hour, Alice had stood on the hillside, staring into the distance as she anxiously awaited the Lord’s return.

Master Laurie stood nearby, his own brows furrowed as he watched the swordswoman repeatedly grip and release the hilt of her sword. However, their anxious wait didn’t last much longer. Soon, Alice Comstock’s eyes lit up, an unconcealable joy blossoming on her face.

Alice and Master Laurie looked out into the distance, watching a small black dot gradually enlarge in their field of vision. Without a doubt, it was the esteemed Lord Elliot Igor. After all, there wasn’t a second person in this world who would ride a small white horse so triumphantly while dressed in extravagant clothes, with a cast-iron crowbar tucked into his belt, swinging wildly out of place with every step the horse took.

But when the Master and Alice got a clear look at the other knight behind the Lord, the expressions on their faces underwent a fascinating shift.

Guard Tom Lawrence, who had just been resurrected by the Lord the night before, was riding his large horse, tailing closely behind the Lord. For a moment, Alice and Master Laurie found themselves unable to accurately describe the exact emotion displayed on Lawrence’s contorted face. Was it sorrow? Indignation? Disgust? Resentment? Despair?

Even Master Victor Laurie—who had lived in this world for a full eighty years and read countless people—felt that a simple term like "a complex cocktail of emotions" was entirely too inadequate to describe Lawrence’s expression.

But then again, nobody really cared what the old military veteran was thinking anyway. Everyone’s burning gazes were firmly locked onto the thing on Lawrence’s back—a shriveled, heavily bound zombie.

A cloth sack was stuffed into the zombie’s mouth, the fabric almost completely soaked through with its drool. As a result, sticky zombie saliva flowed freely down Mr. Lawrence’s broad back. As the crowd’s eyes trailed further down, they realized that to secure this intricately bound zombie on the horseback, it had been tied tightly to Lawrence with a rope. Consequently, whenever Mr. Zombie thrashed around on the back of the horse like a slippery eel, it caused Lawrence to wobble precariously in his saddle. And every time that happened, the guard’s expression would look exceptionally dangerous.

Everyone nearby stopped what they were doing. Like the crowd watching the emperor’s new clothes in the fairy tale, they stared dumbfounded as the two men and one corpse rode side-by-side, parading conspicuously into the camp.

No one dared to utter a single word. A wordless silence hung heavy over the crowd, suffocating the onlookers to the point where it was hard to breathe.

In the end, it was Master Laurie and Alice who exchanged a glance and spoke up first, breaking the unsettling silence. "My Lord, what is this...?"

"Oh, didn’t I tell you? We went to catch a zombie and came right back without any delays along the way." Xiahou Yan pulled out his crowbar and tapped the horse next to him. "Everyone! Please meet the newest member of our Igor Territory!"

A new member? The crowd’s gaze first shifted to the despair-ridden Tom Lawrence before swiftly ignoring the unfortunate guard, locking onto Mr. Zombie slumped on his back with the floodgates of its drool still wide open.

"The new member you speak of... is it?" Master Laurie had never felt his own words carry such weight.

"Yup. From now on, you can call it..." A flash of inspiration hit the Lord, instantly granting a name to his zombie test subject. "...’Dave’."