Chapter 4: A Search to a Pursuit

Chapter 4:
A Search to a Pursuit

 

THE CLINIC THEY HAD taken refuge in seemed to be in the shopping district—it was surrounded by rows upon rows of all sorts of storefronts. Loren led Scena through them slowly, entering the deserted stores and examining the items they had on display.

“The herbs are no good. They’re all shriveled up, but they’re not rotten yet. I don’t see any signs of a struggle. That house with half-eaten food was the same. Not the cleanest, but no signs of an attack.”

“Where did everyone go?” Scena asked.

Loren didn’t have an answer. He wondered the same thing and hoped he would soon find someone who would conveniently explain it to him. Though he knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

“They didn’t get up and run,” he said. “The place feels too lived in. Didn’t pack any bags, and the valuables are all still there.”

No matter which house he entered, the money was left untouched. An active mercenary might have indulged here and there, but Loren let it be. He had fished through the pockets of enemy soldiers before, but this was no battlefield. These were the leavings of normal people. Even if that wasn’t strictly true anymore, with everyone gone for unknown reasons, he didn’t want to touch what they had left.

“Scena, what was the population of this city?”

“Popu-what?”

He waved his hand to say “never mind.” Scena had walked around a bit for her father’s work, and she knew the town layout, but she didn’t know any precise figures.

“Going off the size, I’d say thirty to forty thousand,” Loren estimated. “Gone, like smoke. I doubt anyone’d believe me if I reported it.”

Whether or not he succeeded in returning Scena to her father, it was his duty to bring a report to Kaffa that detailed what he had seen—with, ideally, some kind of explanation. He let out a hefty sigh, knowing that report was likely to be complete and utter nonsense.

He could look at the town now and know what he saw was real, but he also knew he would laugh if someone explained it to him sight unseen. “There’s no way everyone could just disappear without a trace. Where’s the blood? The bodies?”

“Mister.” Scena gripped his coat, voice anxious.

Loren felt a little ashamed of his own careless muttering. This girl had once been a resident of Hansa. Why was he hoping to find the corpses of her friends?

“Sorry. I’m getting worked up.”

“No, it’s fine. But really…where did my father—where did everyone go?”

If Scena’s parents were still alive and in town, they were probably in the city center. Loren had a few reasons for thinking so, mainly that those with power usually concentrated that power at the center of their holding, building some fine estate or castle there.

The path to this area was simple, straight down the main avenue. While Hansa had high surrounding walls, they had no measures against civil insurrection, and that road was one long uninterrupted path from the gate. While Hansa was a small city-state, Loren had to wonder if it was really safe to build cities this way—not that it was any of his business.

“I’d like to snoop through the chancellor’s house.”

If there were any survivors left, Loren expected that house was where he would be most likely find them. If possible, he wanted to meet these survivors, and if not, he wanted to leave town with all due haste. They’d had seven combatants at one point, but four of them couldn’t stand. It would be far too dangerous to attempt anything with only three.

“We could wait until those four recover before we make our move,” he said, “but I dunno if we have the time.” Whatever it was that had left Hansa in this state, Loren didn’t trust that it would overlook their presence for long.

Perhaps because he was busy weighing options, Scena noticed something strange before he did. “There’s someone over there, Mister.”

They had just searched their umpteenth house. They had failed to find any noteworthy items or information, and Loren was on his way to the next one when Scena gave his coat a rather strong tug. Whipping around, he recognized a woman in street clothes peeking at them from around a nearby corner.

“Wait! I’m not here to hurt you,” he called.

For a moment, he wondered if entering houses without permission had made him look suspicious, but while the woman flinched, she didn’t run. She continued to watch them.

“I’m an adventurer,” said Loren. “Came to town for a quest and found it like this. I’m looking into what happened, and…”

“You’re here…to help?” the woman timidly asked. She looked to be in her early twenties, an inoffensive and mousy brunette.

“Not exactly. Are you a resident?”

“Yes. My name is Stehr.”

“What happened here? Where did all the townsfolk go? Why are you here?”

Loren peppered Stehr with questions in rapid succession. Her eyes widened, but she shook her head.

“I don’t know. It happened a few days ago. All of a sudden, everyone started acting strange… I got scared. I hid in the basement, but I’ve run out of food, so I came out to see the aftermath.”

“You got a family?”

“I was alone. My parents passed a while back.”

“Know anyone who’s still here?”

“Sorry. I don’t.”

Loren had thought he might finally be on the verge of understanding something, but Stehr had far too little information to offer. Perhaps there was nothing to be done, but he couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“Um, pardon me, but isn’t that the chancellor’s daughter?” Stehr asked upon noticing Scena. “In that case, you really should go to his manor… There are many soldiers there, and it has walls, so I suspect they might be safe.”

“Guess you’re right.”

That left the problem of what to do with the four in their crew who couldn’t move. Once Lapis treated them to a degree, perhaps they could be carried by wagon. In that case, Loren was better off heading to the manor first and confirming the presence of any other survivors. He turned on his heels. He would consult Lapis before he did anything else.

“So, what are you gonna do?” he asked Stehr over his shoulder.

“Please take me with you! I fear I won’t be able to reach the manor alone.”

Loren didn’t know what in the deserted city Stehr thought would stop her. At least, he didn’t see anything immediately dangerous on the main road. But if something was lurking, waiting for a victim to pass by, Stehr might not be able to run away. So, bring her along or let her wander off on her own? Both options were equally troublesome.

“Fine, come with us.”

Loren hadn’t found any explanations, but a survivor was something. He led Scena and Stehr back to the clinic, where Claes remained obediently on the lookout. The sight of a stranger made him reach for his weapon, but he relaxed once Loren explained how they’d met Stehr.

At least Claes was earnest enough to do the job assigned to him. His earlier arrogance and caustic tone had likely been more the product of his environment, thought Loren. He decided to give the boy a little more benefit of the doubt.

Once inside the clinic, they met Lapis before they reached the sickroom.

“I’ve finished the treatment, but please keep out for the time being,” she said, driving them back.

Loren sensed something strange about this, but there were more important things to discuss. He introduced her to Stehr and reported the possibility of survivors in the center of town, as well as the other results of his search—to wit, that there were none, because he had seen no other survivors nor sign of what might have become of everyone else.

“The sun’s still up, so I think this is our chance to make a move. How about it?” asked Loren.

“You’re right…but…” Lapis folded her arms in thought, a slightly pained look on her face. “The unknown ailment didn’t prove much of a problem. Ms. Leila, Ms. Laure, and Mr. Brosse should all recover in time. The problem is Ms. Ange. She’s suffering from blood loss and severe internal rupturing. She is still in critical condition, and I wouldn’t recommend moving her.”

“How long until we can?”

“At least the rest of today. When Laure is back on her feet, I presume she’ll have recovered her blessings, so we’ll be able to stabilize Ange for a move tomorrow.”

Loren nodded. “I wouldn’t want the move to be what kills her.”

But if they stayed at the clinic, they’d spend a night in a city with some unknown danger lurking who knew where. They just didn’t know what they needed to protect themselves from.

“We could leave Claes on guard and go check it out ourselves,” said Loren.

“You do think some of the most cold-blooded, merciless things, Mr. Loren.”

In other words, leaving Claes alone meant pitting him against the unknown while protecting four immobile victims. They might as well leave everyone to die. It wouldn’t be much better on their front either. Leaving with Scena and Stehr would mean they’d always be on their guard to protect the two noncombatants.

“What do you think?” Lapis asked.

“We camp here tonight,” Loren decided. “Then move when everyone’s able.”

If their fighting force was reduced to Loren, Lapis, and Claes, he’d rather they fought together than divided.

“Understood. Then we’ll have to prepare for the night.”

“Let me help y—” Stehr started, but Lapis held up a hand.

“No need. Ms. Stehr, I think I’ll have you and Miss Scena kept sequestered in separate rooms.”

“Please… I could at least keep Lady Scena company,” Stehr pleaded.

“If you wish to accompany us, you’ll do what we say,” said Lapis curtly. “If you cannot follow simple directions, we will be unable to take you along.”

“Um, what?”

Lapis’s sudden change in tone took Stehr by surprise. Loren prodded Lapis with a cautionary elbow.

Lapis blinked blankly at him—then cleared her throat and tried again. “Oh, sorry. Back home—I mean, I fell back on the mannerisms they drilled into us in training for the priesthood… Ahem. But you really must obey orders. Can I count on you?”

While confused, Stehr seemed to understand that Lapis wouldn’t budge. She nodded, hesitant though she was.

 

The sun receded, bit by bit. Loren pumped the bellows to light the firepit in a smithing apparatus. The pit was shaped like an urn. Once filled with charcoal and lit, pulling the bellows ignited high-temperature flames that burst out of the opening. Loren could carry the whole thing himself.

It was enchanted with a spell that controlled the flames, allowing the user to adjust the intensity of the blaze. The bellows lever drew mana from whoever touched it to power the spell. Lapis declared it quite a valuable item, but Loren only cared that it fulfilled its purpose.

Whatever other uses it might have, Loren had brought the contraption back to the area outside the clinic because it worked well enough as a bonfire. The crucible he had picked up along with the setup clinked as he filled it with materials he had gathered from nearby. He used a pair of tongs to hold the vessel over the flames.

This work produced a great deal of heat and risked setting any nearby building alight. Loren couldn’t possibly have used it in the clinic, so he had reluctantly set himself up with a chair outside.

“Whatever are you doing?” Lapis asked. Her eyes followed his every hand movement with deep interest.

However, Loren focused on his work without offering a reply. The smoldering coal wasn’t yet hot enough to melt the crucible’s contents. He gripped the bellows lever and pumped it up and down to blow air into the pit. The coals within blazed more furiously, the spell amplified them further, and finally he achieved the intensity he required.

“I feel rather miserable when you ignore me, Mr. Loren.”

When she put it like that, he had no choice but to respond. “It should be obvious enough. I’m trying to play blacksmith.”

“Yes, but what is the good blacksmith trying to make?”

Hansa was a desolate, lonely place during the day. Who knew what it would become at night? Considering the undead often lurked outdoors, they could reasonably expect whatever awaited them here would come for them from that direction. As such, Claes was out breaking down walls for lumber and constructing a barricade around the clinic.

No matter whether the buildings were made of wood or stone, Claes could destroy them with ease. Lapis had chosen him for the task largely because his gift made him good at it, but also because she figured that, in the event of legal trouble, she could blame all the property damage on him.

“It’s been nothing but undead since Kaffa,” said Loren. “We need a specialized weapon.”

“Your sword isn’t enough?”

Loren glanced at the massive blade by his chair. The thing was pitch-black from point to pommel, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t an ordinary sword—especially given who had recommended it. But at present, the only notable feature he could discern was its color. It didn’t seem to have any special functions.

“I like to take it easy sometimes,” he said.

He didn’t find his new blade difficult to swing, but he grew tired more quickly if he swung such a thing for too long. As such, he would forge something that would let him take the load off, as it were.

“I see. So, again, what exactly are you making?”

“Well, when it comes to undead, you basically want silver, right?”

Beside Loren was a mold for making long, thin slabs. He poured the melted mixture into it, forming a bar around the size of his palm, and then, once it solidified, hammered the back of the mold to release the newly formed bar. Lifting the orange bar with his tongs, he placed it on an anvil—also hauled over from the smithy—and started hammering the end to a point. Finally, he dunked the length into a barrel of water. A cloud of steam rose. Loren filled the crucible again.

“A silver weapon? Where are you getting the silver from?” asked Lapis as she rolled up her sleeves. Then she plunged her hands into the water to retrieve Loren’s creation—a crude blade that any real smith would sneer at. She rubbed her finger against its blackened surface until she could confirm the silver underneath.

“Well, y’know…tough times and all.” Loren trailed off.

Lapis glanced over at the bag Loren was getting his material from. Within swelled a sizable number of silver coins.

The amount of silver in each coin varied from country to country. When there wasn’t enough silver on hand for minting coinage, it was mixed with other metals to form an alloy. But all silver coins did contain at least some silver. There were a few jewelry pieces mixed in with the coins as well, but the majority of the bag’s contents were those coins.

Lapis lifted her eyes and stared pointedly at Loren. “Isn’t it a crime to destroy currency?”

“You tell me.” Loren kept working.

A crime was only a crime so long as someone could enforce it. They had yet to see any such person in Hansa.

“How are Scena and Stehr doing?” he asked.

“I contained them in separate rooms.” Contained was a strong word, but Loren assumed Lapis had just locked the doors. Then she casually added, “I used chairs and tables to barricade them in. They’re not getting out whether they want to or not.”

“You really did imprison them.”

“How rude. If they can’t leave, then no one can reach them. I locked the windows, too, so under normal circumstances, it would be perfect.”

That last sentence bothered Loren. Keeping his eyes trained on his work, he lowered his voice. “So what did you notice?”

“That question is so vague, I don’t know how to respond,” Lapis flatly replied.

He snorted, at which she tilted her head. Then he spoke in a theatrical tone of great sorrow. “You can’t tell me?”

“That’s not it at all. You truly do need to be more specific. I simply have no idea what you want me to tell you.”

“Start with our recent trail of troubles. You’ve realized something, haven’t you?” It wasn’t really a question.

“Do you mean the reason we found Miss Scena in the forest? Or why the forest wolves didn’t attack her? Or the cause of the mysterious illness robbing our party members of their minds and well-being? Or perhaps about our new little survivor we found now of all times?”

She evaded answering any of these questions as slickly as rain sliding down a church steeple. Loren glared. If she had all those things figured out, she had practically solved the entire matter. The only question left was whether she felt like explaining.

Lapis shrugged. “I’m sorry to betray your expectations, but all I know is this: Miss Scena is suspicious. The symptoms Mr. Brosse and the others are presently recovering from are a product of energy drain. And I hardly have to tell you how downright dubious we should find Ms. Stehr. Nothing more, and nothing less.”

Loren had thought she would dig in her heels and tease him, but she offered what she knew with surprising ease. The thing that caught him truly off guard was the term “energy drain.”

As with most things related to the arcane, Loren only had a vague idea of what it meant, but as he understood it, energy drain was a special ability possessed by high-ranking undead: the power to absorb the life force and magic of the living, making them into one’s own power. Those killed by energy drain were never granted a peaceful end—they were cursed to walk the earth as undead.

“Wait, do you think Scena’s doing that?”

“That would be the obvious conclusion, seeing how the phenomenon has only affected those who spent time in proximity to her. However, from what I can tell, Miss Scena is human. A rather ordinary human at that.”

“In that case…”

“That’s the part I don’t get. There’s a chance some other powerful undead is stalking us, but that’s hard to believe.”

The most well-known examples of high-ranking undead were blood-sucking vampires and liches, who were said to be the remnants of powerful magicians. If one of those had been on their heels during this journey, surely they would have noticed it by now. The presence of such entities was inescapably palpable.

“In any case, the actions I’ve taken have all been under the assumption that Miss Scena is suspicious. I’ve distanced her from the others, and just in case, I’ve cast a ward against evil on the sickroom.”

“You did?” Loren was taken by surprise once again. Evil-warding charms were known to keep away demonic entities, and Lapis was, well, a demon. A demon using anti-demon measures? He couldn’t help but take it as a bad joke.

“We are the race most proficient at handling our own kind. As with most races, I would assume.” She sounded somewhat offended.

“Really?”

“And, of course, these safety measures can be cast on humans as well.”

As she said this, she smugly put a hand on his head. Loren abruptly recalled that she had done something similar at the campsite two nights before—when he had invited Scena to join them because the adventurers were shunning her. Specifically, she had placed a hand on his forehead while telling him he could do what he wanted.

“Hey, don’t tell me you’re the reason I haven’t collapsed yet.”

“Incidentally, the reason I haven’t gone down is because my prosthetic hand has the ward function built in,” she said. “As for Mr. Claes…perhaps he owes it to his aptitude as a hero or some such nonsense.”

Her tone turned incredibly skeptical where Claes was concerned. That aside, Lapis had cleared up quite a few of Loren’s questions.

“What about Stehr?” he asked.

“If you happen to find a lone survivor in an otherwise lifeless town, please view her with due suspicion. She’s practically screaming ‘I am untrustworthy.’ To the point, is she really even a survivor?”

“And the reason you’re keeping them in the same general area, despite putting them in separate rooms?”

All other circumstances aside, their ultimate goal was to return Scena to her parents. There was only one reason Loren could think of to place someone so fishy near her without any guards: to use Scena as the bait. However, if that was the case, he couldn’t just shrug and go with it.

“No need for you to worry about it, Mr. Loren. Just leave the dirty work to me. I am a demon, you see.”

Hopefully, Lapis had made sure Claes wasn’t in earshot before saying that. All the same, Loren’s hands finally stopped.

“Mr. Loren?”

“Don’t put it like that. It doesn’t matter who you are. We’re partners for now.”

For a moment, Lapis wore a vacant expression, as if she couldn’t understand what he’d said. Then her eyes wandered, swimming away from Loren, further and further until her whole body had turned, and he could only see her back.

“Lapis?”

“Y-yes, well. Rather than partners, should we say I’m your employer, or rather, your debt collector, or—”

“Pick whichever one you want. Just don’t keep it all in. We should discuss these things.”

Lapis turned back at these blunt and awkward words, a bashful smile on her face. “You’re right. Then I’ll play along a bit.”

You should’ve done that from the start. He sighed.

Once again, Lapis looked down at the considerable number of silver pieces in his bag and asked, “So in the end, what are you going to use those for?”

“Basic throwing knives. Should be enough for a revenant.”

No sooner had the words left Loren’s mouth than a distant roar cut the air. Claes heard it too; he hurried back to the clinic from the barricades.

For himself, Loren returned his sword to his back, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

 

Where had they been hiding? Loren couldn’t know the answer for certain, but he could guess.

They had presumably come from beneath the city, away from anywhere any human might venture. To be more specific, he suspected they had been in the sewers.

Zombies and revenants had some resistance to sunlight, but that didn’t mean they reveled in it. Ghosts and wraiths, who the sun disintegrated, naturally gathered where its light couldn’t reach. Thus, the sewers.

Loren had searched Hansa quite thoroughly but hadn’t considered wading through wastewater and sewage. Too dark, dirty, and foul. But none of those concerns mattered to the undead. Unlike in life, they were wholly indifferent to such things.

“I don’t like this one bit,” he muttered.

The groans echoing down the streets grew louder the moment the last sliver of sun disappeared. Slowly, the sounds blanketed the entire city.

A defensive barricade surrounded the clinic, and intermittent bonfires ensured they had a clear field of view. If they had been dealing with living humans, their best bet would have been to snuff the lights and lay low. This tactic would do nothing for them with the undead, who were drawn to the presence and warmth of the living. The fires might actually distract them.

Regardless, the dark had set in, and night favored the dead.

“This is gonna be a pain. You ready?” Loren asked, a sword over his shoulder.

Claes silently nodded.

He’s pretty tense, Loren thought, though it was understandable. They had no way to know how many undead remained in town, but they could well be in the realm of hundreds, thousands even. Given that, it was impressive Claes had any will to fight at all.

“If we go down, everybody in the clinic is done for. Keep that in your head.”

“I know. You don’t have to tell me.” A faint light coated Claes’s arms. It seeped into his armor and weapon until he glowed like a feeble torch himself.

“That’s convenient. What I wouldn’t give…”

“It’s not entirely enviable,” Lapis interjected.

She had been evil-warding the rest of the clinic, protecting it from any undead incursion. If she could do something like that, Loren wondered why she hadn’t done it for every adventurer taking part in the original expedition. When he’d asked, she replied, “That sounds like it would have been a lot of work.”

“Mr. Claes’s gift is certainly effective. But to the dead, he’s a most radiant beacon. They’ll head straight for him.”

According to Lapis, the undead were principally moved by resentment and envy, but they were also attracted to mana and vitality. Claes’s gift drew straight from his own life force, which made him a prime target.

“Just what I want,” Claes said through gritted teeth. “I’ll send them all back to hell. They won’t lay a finger on my comrades.”

“I doubt the dead want to be here either,” Loren said, taking a freshly forged silver knife from his pocket. Abruptly, he held it up and threw.

The blade spun through the air before stabbing deep into the first zombie to appear. The zombie jolted to a stop, then fell limp.

They really are lurking, thought Loren. “Come to think of it, if they’re coming from the sewers, they’re not gonna climb out of the clinic privy, are they?”

“Don’t worry,” said Lapis. “I made doubly sure to seal that point of access.”

The undead didn’t take filth into consideration when they chose a crevice to crawl through. As Loren feared, they were indeed capable of squirming out of such unsanitary holes.

“So if anyone wakes up with a need, where are they supposed to go?”

“They will simply have to put up with it.” Lapis shrugged. “I nailed them shut too. They aren’t opening anytime soon.”

“I just don’t wanna be attacked from behind,” Loren muttered as he threw another knife. This time, the blade pierced a host of ghosts oozing through a wall. They raised a chorus of shrill shrieks as they dissipated into the dark.

Ghosts, who had no physical form, couldn’t be defeated with conventional weapons but were easily banished with the evil-warding properties of silver. Their lack of corporeal form meant that unlike with zombies, a single knife could take out a whole line of them.

“May the lost find their way to where they belong. Turn Undead.”

Lapis brandished the sigil of the god of knowledge and chanted from scripture. Yet another group of hazy white ghosts vanished—this time silently.

Turn Undead was a power priests possessed, different from blessings. While the use of it did whittle away at the practitioner’s mind and body, it had no set usage limit. Its power was proportional to the priest’s faith, and despite what she said, Lapis was evidently a devout follower. Her prayers felled not only ghosts but also zombies, who crumpled on the spot.

“Not as many friends as I was expecting,” Loren said as his knives took out another two.

He had foreseen an onslaught more akin to the one he’d encountered in the ancient ruin—a veritable avalanche of goblins. There were a lot of undead, to be sure. They slowly surrounded the clinic, and he saw fields of rotting heads stretched out down the road. But he didn’t feel nearly as cornered.

“Don’t speak too soon. Look over there.” Lapis pointed at Claes, who was swarmed by a wall of zombies several layers thick. If they managed to fully surround him, he would certainly be bitten. Luckily, he could take out a whole wave of them with each swing, and he quickly eliminated any who got close enough.

“I suppose they’re just concentrated on him.”

“He really does stand out. Guess I should pitch in.” The knife Loren threw stabbed through a few undead on the outer ring. As they fell, immobile, they were trampled underfoot by the next wave.

“How many of those did you make?” Lapis asked.

“Around thirty. I had the time, not the material.”

It was pointless to conserve anything. Not only were the blades haphazardly made, they would also remain as evidence for certain money-melting-related misdeeds, so Loren was all too eager to chuck them with wild abandon.

“Hey! Wait! That one grazed me!” Claes yelped.

“Whoops, sorry. They’re pretty lopsided, and the aim’s way off.”

“If you’ve got time to throw those, then help with your sword!”

“I’m just a mercenary.”

Nonetheless, Loren begrudgingly took his stance with the black greatsword, power concentrated in his hips. One step in, and he unleashed an upward swing on the zombies surrounding Claes. It looked like Claes had something to say—but once that massive weight was unleashed, it wasn’t going to stop.

Of course, Loren had no intentions of hitting the boy. His attack captured a corner of the surrounding zombies, turning them into blood-splatter and flesh.

“Would it be selfish of me to ask you to think a bit before you attacked?” Claes asked, his voice quivering as the wind gusted behind his back.

While Loren’s momentum managed to take out several zombies at once, the blood and viscera had scattered everywhere, and Claes was right in the splash zone. He was now drenched in red and indescribable remains.

“Ah, sorry…”

“Ugh… It stinks, and it’s all sticky…” Despite his complaints, Claes never stopped moving. Even though he swung in a way that would have ruined a normal sword, his Boost gift prevented his blade from breaking or bending, and he continued to slice with the same unyielding edge.

The undead continued to flock to Claes like moths to a flame. Loren and Lapis had an exceedingly easy job, taking out the stragglers, i.e., the ones that ignored Claes in favor of the clinic.

“You know, he’s actually pretty good. All things considered,” said Loren.

“Yes, well, those so gifted can become incredibly skilled, depending on how they deploy their talents.”

“Quit being impressed and help—ugh, dammit!” There were many more things Loren wanted to say, but no matter how many undead he cut down, the next always came, and he found himself fighting without the leisure for words.

He didn’t just keep an eye on Claes either. He moved the corpses Claes cut down so they wouldn’t get in the way of the next horde, piling up the unmoving dead as he continued to take out strays.

“On every battlefield, there are always a handful of folks who die tripping on the enemy’s corpses. It’s important to have good footing,” Loren explained.

“I see, how edifying,” Lapis said, diligently taking notes.

Claes groaned and forcefully cut through another swathe of undead. “Oh, come on!”

A massive crash interrupted his complaint—the clinic wall facing them was blown open from the inside. Claes froze, shocked. Lapis and Loren took out a swathe of undead who hurtled toward him in that moment, but Lapis then turned toward the clinic.

“What happened?!” Claes shouted.

His question was answered soon enough. A figure—surely the perpetrator—stepped through the hole in the clinic wall, cradling Scena’s limp, unconscious body in its hands.

“Hey, Lapis. What happened to that evil-warding spell of yours?”

“Evil-wards ward off evil. They don’t make buildings any sturdier.”

Lapis’s evil-wards prevented evil entities such as undead from getting close, but that was it. They didn’t offer any physical protection.

“On top of that, they were meant to stop things from getting inside. They don’t work when something wants out.”

“That’s surprisingly useless,” Loren said, somewhat disappointed.

“They’ve kept you on your feet, Mr. Loren.” Lapis stared at him long and hard, and he looked away, pretending he had said nothing.

“The clinic was breached!” Claes yelled at them as he cut down a flock of undead. “Worry a bit, would you?!”

“Even if you tell me to worry…” Loren’s eyes locked on the figure on the other side of the destroyed clinic wall. “Seeing that thing brings me all the way back around to—I don’t know what. I can’t even be surprised anymore.”

The figure was human in form. It appeared to be a normal woman in streetwear. Had Loren passed her in any other town, she wouldn’t have left an impression. The thing that made her stand out now was the yellow haze wafting around her entire body like mist. The sight of it froze his spine—it made him sick. The figure also held Scena in her arms, and she stared at them with eyes of the same awful yellow hue.

“That’s quite a transformation there, Stehr.” Loren said.

Her lips curled into a smile, her brown hair swaying.

“I knew you were suspicious, but I didn’t think you’d given up on being human.”

He didn’t know what she should be called, but that unpleasant aura and ominous haze made it impossible to believe she could possibly be counted as a member of humankind.

Stehr stepped out through the hole she’d created and expressionlessly passed right into the swarm of zombies. A normal human would have been dogpiled and covered in bite marks, but it was as if the zombies couldn’t see Stehr.

“What are you going to do to Miss Scena?” Lapis asked as if merely curious.

Stehr stopped and answered without turning. “That’s none of your concern. The girl is the one the master spied, and upon whom he bestowed a great treasure. The master is gone now, but I have a duty to fulfill his objective.”

“She actually spoke,” Loren muttered in surprise.

Zombies could no longer command human tongues. Moreover, while revenants had some intellect and might groan what sounded like a word, it was impossible to have a meaningful conversation with them. Loren knew that much, and he had been sure you just couldn’t talk to undead, period. But given how the zombies weren’t attacking Stehr…she had to be undead as well, right?

“She’s probably a wight,” said Lapis. “They’re a little smarter than revenants.”

“Are undead differentiated by their intelligence?”

“No, not exactly.”

As if to cut Lapis off, the yellow mist suddenly burst forth from Stehr’s body, covering the entire area. Loren readied himself to lose his vision, but this mist wasn’t a smokescreen. It was something far worse.

“Wights can use a powerful energy drain,” warned Lapis. “If you touch that mist, your mana and life force will be snatched away.”

“I have no business with you. Feel free to become zombie feed—is what I was going to say, but…” Here, Stehr finally turned toward them, doubt written over her face. “Normal humans should have been rendered immobile by that. Why are you still moving?”

“Because of my countermeasures, of course,” said Lapis. She seemed proud of herself, but Loren had to wonder how meaningful it was to take that attitude with the undead.

Regardless, though Stehr stared at them a while, she was soon back on her way. “No matter. You won’t last long against these numbers. Even if you survive, no human may oppose me once I complete the master’s work.”

“Oi, wait!” Loren called to stop her, but there were countless zombies between them, and she soon disappeared into the crowd. She was as good as gone.

“This may be bad,” said Lapis thoughtfully. Even with Stehr gone, the yellow mist didn’t disappear. It lingered like fog. “Claes and I should be fine—I’d never fold to energy drain, and Claes has his gift.”

“You mean I’m the problem?”

“The ward I put on you raised your resistance, but if you stay within range of the effect for too long, you’ll either succumb or the ward will wear off.”

Lapis’s ward didn’t cut off the energy drain, it just heightened Loren’s resistance to it, so he didn’t feel its effects. Adding that onto his natural resistance, he had lasted for an impressively long time. But here in the mist, the constant exposure would inevitably bring him to his limit.

He could always run outside the mist before it took him down, but if he did, he wouldn’t be able to hunt down the source.

“So I’m running against the clock now. No way around it.”

“I see you still intend to chase her.”

It seemed securing Scena had been Stehr’s sole objective. She hadn’t remotely implied that she would hunt them if they fled. Sure, they would have to break through the zombies to get free, but running would still be far easier than going after a wight.

“She was going on about her master’s work,” said Loren. “I don’t know what that means, but we’re gonna have trouble if she gets any stronger.”

“If this really gets out of hand, I get the feeling some country out there will do something about it eventually,” said Lapis. “But I suppose there’s nothing to lose in nipping it in the bud.”

“Besides, you saw this coming, didn’t you?”

“I knew Ms. Stehr would do something troublesome. She had a strange air, but I didn’t think she was a wight.” Lapis had likely only let someone so clearly problematic into their midst because she hoped Stehr would lead them to the truth of the matter. That didn’t mean she’d known the woman was dead. “The stronger an undead becomes, the better they are at concealing themselves.”

“Sounds problematic.”

“So, going after her is fine and all, but what do we do about the clinic?”

If Loren went for Stehr, it would leave them less able to protect the clinic’s patients. There was a tremendous number of undead around, and it would take quite some time to wipe them out before pursuing anyone. By the time they were done, Stehr would likely already have achieved her goal.

“Count on me,” Claes broke in. “The clinic’s defenses are still holding, right? I can attract any of the undead who come near. And if I stand in front of that hole in the wall and continue beating them back, I should be able to protect the rest of the building.”

“Well, maybe. But you’d be fighting until daybreak alone.”

When the sun rose, most of the undead would return to their hiding spots. But there was quite a bit of time until then. If Claes faltered even once before that moment, the undead would pour in through the hole Stehr had made. Then the fate of those still bedridden would be sealed.

“I’ll do it for my comrades. Leave it to me. That’s what I’d like to say, anyway, but it’ll be rough. So, it, uh, it would be a huge lifesaver if you could get back here after beating up that wight.”

Loren and Lapis exchanged a look and then said in unison: “Your tone kinda ticks me off.”

“I-I can apologize when I have to! And I owe you for saving Ange.” Claes’s words faded into a murmur at the latter, though his expression then tensed. He looked them up and down anew, and he spoke with conviction. “Please, leave this to me.”

“Well, if you’re that resolved, I guess I can hand it over,” said Loren.

Claes smacked a hand to his chest, brimming with confidence. If this were the first time they’d met, Loren would have snorted and thought, What are you acting so high and mighty for? But at that moment, he felt that Claes was up to the task.

“Yeah, I promise I’ll protect them until you return,” said Claes.

“Treat me to a beer when this is all over,” said Loren.

“Shouldn’t you be treating me…?”

“Don’t got the money for that. Work’s been so bad lately I became an adventurer of all things.”

Before Loren could tell his pitiful tale, Lapis grabbed his hand and dragged him off. “We’re in a hurry. I can track Ms. Stehr if we’re quick, so let’s hop to it.”

“Got it. You better not die, Claes.”

Those encouraging words were met with a renewed resolve as Claes firmly gripped his longsword. “Sorry to say, I plan on raising a household with Ange. We’ll have loads of kids, and even more grandkids, and I’m going to die with them tending to me on my sickbed.”

“That’s quite a grand dream.”

“Oh, and Laure and Leila as my mistresses,” Claes blurted out with a gleam in his eyes.

“Maybe that guy’s better off dying here,” Loren said with considerable earnestness.

Lapis didn’t say anything. She only sent Claes a look colder than a blizzard from the frigid plains, then took Loren’s hand and ran.