Night of the Living Dead

The wind bit Kyle's face as he cut through the air, carried by a purposeless direction, a course dictated by instinct more than reason.

                                                                      The cold seeped through his clothes, but he paid it no attention.

After long minutes of endless flight, bursts of light appeared on the horizon: tiny dancing flames, flickering like fireflies lost in the mist.

"Probably a city... Perfect. A break before deciding what to do next," he thought.

He slowly lost altitude, gliding like a shadow through the air currents before landing soundlessly on a soggy field on the edge of the city.

The acrid smell of damp earth rose to his nose, mingling with the crushed grass beneath his boots.

He remained motionless for a moment, his senses on alert. Nothing. Not a breath, not a cry, not even the rustle of a rat seeking refuge in the wheat.

 The silence was so dense it became oppressive—a living, almost conscious silence.

Kyle frowned. Something was wrong.

"Strange... but not my problem."

As he walked toward the first alleys, Kyle immediately sensed something was wrong.

The streets, almost deserted, were bathed in flickering torchlight, casting distorted shadows on the stone walls that seemed to flee as he passed.

The few figures he passed were heavily armed—swords drawn, crossbows clutched to their chests.

Their gazes, charged with a silent tension, immediately turned away.

No words, no greeting.

Everyone disappeared around the next corner, swallowed by the night as if by a survival instinct.

Kyle wanted to approach one of them, ask what was going on.

But the words stuck in his throat.

 An invisible knot was choking him, one he knew all too well.

So he gritted his teeth, bowed his head, and continued walking—alone, in the middle of a city that seemed to be holding its breath.

The Adventurers' Guild. This was where he would find his answers.

He still had to find it.

Not daring to approach anyone, he wandered for a few minutes, scanning the facades. Finally, he spotted a building that looked like it had come straight out of a book of clichés: an engraved wooden sign, a massive reinforced door, lanterns hanging on either side.

"Well... all that's missing is a 'Welcome Adventurers' sign, and it's perfect."

Taking a breath, he pushed open the door.

The interior stopped him in his tracks.

The metallic smell of blood hung in the air, mingled with the more pungent smell of medical ointments. The main room looked less like a reception hall and more like a makeshift first-aid station. Everywhere, wounded men and women lay: stained bandages, pale faces, muffled groans. Armored adventurers rushed past, carrying buckets of water or medical supplies.

The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. No one paid him the slightest attention.

Kyle, relieved to go unnoticed, felt a surge of confidence. He headed for the reception desk.

The receptionist looked up, looking exhausted. Her reddened eyes betrayed hours of sleeplessness. Her voice cracked, dry:

"What do you want? Can't you see we're swamped?"

He coughed.

"I just wanted to know what's going on here..."

She raised an eyebrow, almost incredulous.

 "You're just arriving, right?"

"...Affirmative," he replied simply.

She tilted her head, visibly surprised.

"And... how did you get here in one piece?"

"I just came," he replied, a little confused.

"No, I mean... how did you get across the land to this town without getting massacred?"

Kyle blinked.

"Why, what's going on?"

The receptionist's gaze hardened.

"For several days, we've been under repeated attacks from a horde of undead. We've been pushing them back... but they always come back. And each time, a little more numerous."

Kyle sighed inwardly.

"And as luck would have it... in the town I'm from, a new 'adventure' awaits me."

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"After romance... we went straight to heroic fantasy..."

"Excuse me?" she asked, not understanding.

 Kyle forced a smile, raising his chin like a shonen hero ready to save the world.

"I'll help you."

She gave a bitter smile.

"Any help is welcome... but it's dangerous. You're risking your life."

He took out his adventurer card and placed it on the counter with a confident gesture.

"Kyle Nox. B-rank adventurer, Helion Guild. And I know all about danger."

A brief silence followed.

Then, he sighed inwardly.

"...Seriously? Such a clichéd line? I'm ashamed."

Yet, the tiredness in her eyes seemed to lighten slightly. She gave him a discreet, almost admiring smile, and her eyes shining with newfound hope, she bowed slightly.

 "Please excuse my behavior earlier," she said in a more respectful tone.

Kyle raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Why the sudden change?"

She raised her head, clasping her hands on the counter as if to better explain.

"Because currently... you're the highest-ranking adventurer in town."

Kyle blinked.

"How is that possible? In Helion, though..."

She interrupted him gently, her voice firm but polite:

"Helion is a special case. Even if, like this, it's a small town, the power and skill of its adventurers are completely unbalanced compared to other guilds."

Kyle leaned slightly toward her, curious.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Unlike Helion, registration in most towns is much more accessible." "It's probably due to the presence of the legendary Pentagram group in Helion," she explained.

"I see... so here, there's no periodic exam like the one I took in Helion?"

"Exactly. Here, you just fill out a form and complete a relatively simple test quest. As a result, the majority of those enrolled never advance above Rank E."

Kyle crossed his arms, puzzled.

"No... Am I missing something...? I've only been an adventurer for a few months and I'm already B-rank."

She smiled admiringly.

"If that's the case, you're even more incredible, because only a very few geniuses can rank up that quickly, even in the Helion Guild. And besides, the system is designed in such a way that starting in Helion makes progression much easier."

"That's why there were so many people at the exam..."

"Exactly. It's the same system in the royal capital, but the exam is more selective there, to favor noble families."

Kyle nodded, then changed the subject.

"What about talking about this threat now?"

Her eyes widened, as if she'd just remembered something.

 "Oh, my apologies... When I talk about administration at the various adventurer's guilds, I forget the rest."

"It's nothing," Kyle replied with a slight smile. "It just shows you love what you do."

She blushed slightly.

"That's... sweet."

"It's just the truth."

She took a breath, regaining her seriousness.

"In that case, I'd prefer we resume the discussion tomorrow morning. It will be easier for you to coordinate the response battalion."

"Why don't we start now?" Kyle asked.

"Lately, the attacks have been waning."

Kyle nodded.

"I understand... And by the way, what's your name?"

"Jane," she replied.

A wry smile touched Kyle's lips.

"My dear Miss Jane... I don't like to lead, nor to be led."

He barely spoke before he felt embarrassment wash over him. What a pretentious retort... he thought, annoyed with himself.

But Jane, far from seeing it as arrogance, simply nodded.

"Understandable, for a man of your caliber." And that's not necessarily a flaw."

She sighed slightly before adding,

"Despite the Count sending knights, we're still short of manpower. So we've had to recruit mercenaries."

Kyle's face remained impassive, but his eyes shone with curiosity mixed with calm determination.

"I don't really understand why you say that," he admitted, "but I'll trust you."

Jane nodded with a kind smile.

"Okay."

Kyle straightened, looking around.

"Where exactly is this war zone?"

Jane leaned in slightly toward him, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret.

"According to our information, the main spawn point is west of the city, in the wooded area surrounding the surrounding area. 

Kyle thanked her with a simple nod and started to walk away, but stopped after a few meters. He turned around and came back to her, a slightly confused look on his face.

"Which way is west again?"

A small, clear laugh escaped Jane, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I'll show you," she said, pointing to one side of the room.

Then, becoming a little more serious, "But so you don't get lost, I'm going to call one of the adventurers to take you to the camp over there, in the conflict zone."

Kyle shook his head, preferring to keep his freedom.

"I'd rather go on my own, thanks."

Jane shrugged, amused.

"All right, but don't come crying if you get lost." 

Kyle left the guild, the cool evening wind caressing his face. He followed the indicated direction, but the narrow streets and tightly packed buildings made progress in a straight line impossible.

He closed his eyes for a moment, activating his detection ability. A faint vibration reached him, a sort of human warmth mixed with more distant presences.

A small gathering, not far away, outside the city.

Without hesitation, he left the cobblestone streets and walked towards this group.

He had barely passed the last houses when, in the distance, between the dark trees, a series of small flickering flames illuminated the adventurers' camp.

The fire crackled, casting dancing shadows across the tired faces of the guards standing guard near the forest.

Kyle felt the night chill creep under his cloak, but his eyes sharpened as he scanned the edge of the woods, quickly concluding that the threat must be coming from there.

He moved forward without a word, but a burly adventurer with a weathered face blocked his path.

"Hey, you'd better not go into the forest, especially at night," he warned gravely.

"Why?" Kyle asked, intrigued.

"There's miasma in there," the man explained, his voice low. "It drains the life force of anyone who goes near it. Not everyone who goes in comes out alive." 

Kyle nodded, his gaze fixed on the darkness of the forest.

"Thanks for letting me know."

The man smiled slightly.

"Don't worry, it's normal."

Kyle then asked,

"What are you doing here, then?"

"We're guarding camp," replied the adventurer. "We're waiting for the attacks to start again."

Another man approached, wiping the sweat that beaded on his forehead.

"Let's wait until daybreak. With any luck, the miasma will dissipate, and we can finally explore the forest to understand what's really going on."

"Does this kind of attack happen before?" asked Kyle.

"Never," replied the first.

"Sometimes there are zombies or skeletons,"

added the second.

"But never ghouls." 

Kyle frowned, analyzing the information.

"So, if I understand correctly, this is a coordinated attack by undead, of different types?"

The two men nodded in unison.

Without warning, Kyle discreetly activated his detection ability. He then detected human presences, hidden in the shadows of the trees, where the adventurers said the miasma repelled all life.

Kyle turned to the two adventurers, his face slightly tilted.

"And specifically... what happens when you come into contact with this miasma?"

The older of the two, with a somber look, replied in a deep voice:

"From what they say... first, an unbearable headache, as if your skull was going to burst. Then, blood starts flowing... from your eyes, nose, and even your ears." 

He paused, almost solemnly, before adding,

"And after that... the end."

Kyle nodded calmly.

"Okay. Thanks for the information."

"In times of crisis, it's important to cooperate and share what we know," the second adventurer said.

"You're right," Kyle replied neutrally.

He turned and started walking toward the forest, this time more cautiously. But before he got too far, one of them called out to him.

"Hey, what are you planning to do there?"

Kyle shrugged slightly.

"I don't know yet."

"Okay, but don't take too many risks."

A simple wave of his hand served as a response, and he continued on.

 Arriving at the edge of the forest, the heavy, pungent smell of the miasma tickled his nose. A thick mist hovered near the ground, tinged with greenish reflections in the moonlight.

Kyle stood motionless for a moment, his eyes fixed on the darkness.

If people are in there, there must be a way to survive.

He waited a few minutes, watching, thinking... then exhaled, a thin, ironic smile on his lips.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

And he stepped forward into the miasma.

The sensation was immediate: a slight discomfort, as if the air were denser and heavier. A subtle pressure on his temples, but nothing insurmountable. Kyle stopped, watching to see if the symptoms would change.

Nothing.

An amused sigh escaped his lips.

 "And as luck would have it, the protagonist isn't affected..."

He resumed his walk, heading towards the human presence he had detected earlier. After several minutes of picking his way through twisted trees and slippery roots, he spotted a flickering light in the distance.

The orange light became clearer as he moved forward. Soon, he could make out the outline of a small campfire.

Logic dictated he retreat. But curiosity prevailed.

He approached discreetly, skirting a tree trunk to get a better look.

Two men sat around the fire.

The first, a young blond man with carefully styled hair, wore white and gold garments embroidered with intricate patterns reminiscent of religious symbols.

The second, with slightly blue hair, wore luxurious clothes worthy of a nobleman... or at least, what was left of them. The fabric, torn and stained with mud, bore the marks of a long journey.

Kyle watched them silently, the shadows of the flames playing across their faces, trying to understand what they were doing here, in the heart of the miasma.

 After watching them for a moment, Kyle decided it would be best to return to the adventurers' camp to think things over in a safer place. He turned away, but he'd barely taken a few steps when a voice called out to him.

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. The blue-haired man was waving at him, a neutral smile on his lips.

Kyle could have ignored him and headed straight for camp... but curiosity got the better of him. He might as well see what they have to say.

He approached the campfire, the flickering flames gradually illuminating his face.

"Hi... my name is Kyle. I'm an adventurer."

The blue-haired man, the one who had called him, was the first to answer:

"Nice to meet you. My name is Marx Hark." 

The other, the blond man in the white and gold clothes, added simply:

"Hi. I'm Felix Aiten."

"What are you doing here?" Kyle asked, settling down at a safe distance.

Marx replied calmly:

"Let's just say I'm here to help the city."

Felix shrugged.

"Pretty much the same as him."

Kyle gave a small smile.

"That reassures me. So you're not bad guys."

Felix gave a small, mocking laugh.

"Aren't you being a little gullible? There's nothing stopping me from lying to you right now."

Kyle met his gaze.

"I know. But I'm just pretending to believe you... to gain your trust and get more information." 

Marx, amused, gestured towards the fire.

"Then come sit with us."

Kyle shrugged.

"Why not. Besides... I can't be bothered to go back to camp."

He sat down on a flat stone, letting the crackling of the fire fill the silence. A few minutes passed like this, a little awkwardly, before Kyle broke the stillness:

"Do you have any idea why we managed to get through the miasma?"

Felix replied, crossing his arms:

"At first, I thought it had something to do with my religious class... But after meeting Marx, I realized it was something else."

Kyle frowned.

"I thought you were together."

"No," Felix said. "When I arrived, Marx was already here."

Marx interjected, changing his tone slightly:

"What if it had something to do with our respective strengths?"

Kyle nodded.

"Possibly. Especially since, from what I've heard, the city's adventurers don't have very high power levels." 

"So, to sum up," said Felix, "we're strong enough to get through the miasma."

He paused, squinting into the fire.

"But... isn't that a bit of an easy explanation?"

Kyle smirked.

"Yes. But for now, it's the only theory we have."

Felix nodded, his gaze lost in the dancing firelight.

"Yes, that's true."

Kyle turned to him curiously.

"Then why are you waiting here, doing nothing?"

Felix shrugged, looking a little lost.

"Honestly, I don't even know. I was trying to figure out the cause of the attacks when Marx suggested I come. As night was falling, I accepted." 

Marx, leaning against a nearby tree trunk, sighed lightly.

"I settled down to rest a bit. Going back to town is a bit far, and being here allows me to react faster if the attacks start again."

Kyle nodded, interested.

"How long have you been here, Marx?"

"I'm not sure... I've been fighting so much, I've lost track of time. I've probably been here for five... maybe six days."

Kyle frowned.

"I've been told the attacks have slowed down for a while now..."

Felix turned to Marx with a small smile.

"So you're the cause of this lull?"

Marx shook his head humbly.

"I just eliminated all the undead within my range."

Kyle let out an impressed breath.

"That's incredible. But since you've been here for several days, maybe you know what's really going on?"

Marx looked away, his face somber.

"Unfortunately, no. Like every time monsters appear, I'm just fighting. And with each new attack, the assailants are more numerous and more powerful. I'm having trouble advancing through the forest."

Felix lowered his voice, almost to a whisper.

"As the days go by, their numbers and strength increase..."

Kyle frowned, worried.

"Do you have any idea what could be causing this?"

Felix grimaced, searching for words.

"I read something somewhere, in one of the church's old manuscripts... it talked about the birth of a monster king." 

A heavy silence fell, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the distant rustling of leaves in the forest.

Kyle repeated in a low voice,

"Monster king...?"

He looked up at Felix.

"What is that, exactly?"

Felix leaned against a stump, arms crossed.

"From what I've read, they're monsters that have reached the highest level of evolution possible. They're also called... monarchs."

Kyle's gaze hardened slightly.

"Monarch... That name rings a bell."

He frowned.

"If that's what I think it is... then we really have a big problem."

He wanted to ask Marx's opinion, but realized that Marx, sitting by the fire, had already dozed off, his head tilted slightly to one side.

 "...That's probably why he asked us to stay with him," Kyle murmured.

Felix shrugged.

"It's still a big risk to trust just anyone."

Kyle gave a small smile.

"Yes... but like him, I don't have any bad intentions. Do you?"

"Me neither," Felix replied without hesitation.

"Then it's okay," Kyle concluded.

The fire crackled gently between them, casting shifting shadows on the surrounding tree trunks.

Felix continued,

"When day breaks, we'd better head back to town and ask for help."

Kyle thought for a moment.

"That's a good idea... but there's no guarantee others would be able to cross the miasma."

Felix nodded.

 "If only we could find the source... I'll solve this problem in no time."

Kyle narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"Something doesn't add up."

"What?"

"If we really are dealing with an undead king, why are the only monsters attacking the city only lower levels?"

Felix scratched his temple.

"Probably because he hasn't yet completed his monarch evolution."

"Possibly... but then why launch an attack so quickly?"

Kyle crossed his arms.

"From what I've read, monarchs are all intelligent creatures. So why act so soon?"

Felix raised a hand to interrupt him.

"I see where you're going with this... But when we talk about 'intelligence' for a monster, we just mean that its level of consciousness is close to that of humans. That's all."

"I understand..." Kyle replied thoughtfully.

Felix lowered his voice a little.

"I have another hypothesis... Very few people know this, but demonic creatures like monsters and other demons... feed on human suffering... fear, grief, sadness, and more."

Kyle instinctively added:

"So... the attack on the city had only one goal: to feed."

Felix nodded slowly.

Thus, the two young men continued to exchange information, sharing theories and hypotheses, comparing them, and refining them. Despite the conversation, their eyes regularly scanned the darkness around the camp, watching for the slightest suspicious movement.

Their voices grew quieter as the night wore on... until the first rays of sunlight filtered through the branches, announcing the end of their vigil.