Chapter 3: The Night of Change

That same night, Ana and her father finished serving the last customer. The arrival of numerous adventurers in town had brought with it an economic boom that the local merchants knew how to take advantage of.

“Today was a good day,” Ana whispered as she placed the last chairs on top of the tables. “I even sold my garment at the guild.”

“I wish every day were like this.” Ana’s mother also looked happy. She had spent a good while on her feet, taking orders and checking that everything in the restaurant was in order. Not a single detail escaped her. “Abad, dear, did you store the supplies in the cellar?”

“Yes, Anahí, everything is sealed. If anyone tries to steal from us, they’ll have to break through four locks and get past my traps.”

“Daddy, your traps are a little eccentric, aren’t they? Wouldn’t it be enough to adopt some guard dogs? I heard there’s a beast tamer in town. Ask him for a few so they can watch the business while we’re away.”

“It’s already part of my plan to have my own personal pack. That way, no one would ever try to break into the cellar. Maybe by next year we’ll be able to afford eight dogs.”

“Can I keep one as a pet?” Ana asked.

“That depends, but I hope so. Anyway, let’s finish cleaning and head upstairs.”

The family home was on the second floor of the establishment. There, they had a main living room, three bedrooms, a kitchen, and two functioning bathrooms. They were not wealthy or anything of the sort, but they did live better than the vast majority of commoners.

“Sure. I want to eat something tasty and sleep well. Tomorrow’s going to be a very busy day.” Ana smiled. The idea of having a surplus of customers filled her with happiness.

The Malum invasion, the recent conflict between the two crown princes, and the territorial dispute with the elven kingdoms had created a devastating economic bubble.

Ironically, it was the increase in monsters that had elevated the Adventurers’ Guild to a powerful and very wealthy status.

“Hey!”

Suddenly, a shout came from the street.

Abad decided to ignore it. The business was closed, and he had no desire to deal with drunks eager to keep drinking.

“Some drunk?” Anahí asked.

It was nothing new for a drunken man to yell at them from the street. It happened at least two or three times a week, as those types wanted to keep the party going well past midnight. Unfortunately for them, Abad closed at exactly twelve.

“Hey, open up! Emergency!”

However, the voice sounded clear and direct. After listening more carefully, Abad concluded it was not a drunk man.

He immediately opened the door to see what the commotion was about.

There, he saw an adult man with dark skin, brown eyes, and dreadlocks. He wore a full suit of chainmail, an iron helmet, old greaves, and worn gauntlets. The typical appearance of a local guard.

“What happened?” the merchant asked.

“Emergency! Get out of here and flee to the lord’s castle! We’re under attack! Undead!”

After giving the warning, the soldier ran toward the next establishment and repeated the same speech until his throat nearly gave out.

Abad fell silent. He had thousands of questions, but the warning had happened so quickly that his mind was still processing the messenger’s words.

Under attack? Abad thought, turning his expression toward his beloved wife and daughter.

Anahí and Ana did not know what to say.

When they looked out through the door, they saw a large number of people evacuating at high speed. Calm and order had not yet been lost. The guards had formed a defensive perimeter to allow civilians to pass toward the support centers.

“Undead? What are those things?” Ana did not understand the concept very well. As the illiterate daughter of an uneducated tavern keeper, she lacked a great deal of knowledge about the world. Undead was one of many subjects beyond her understanding.

“Corpses and skeletons moved by necromancy, daughter. It’s black magic.” Abad, as a former mercenary, was well versed in the mystical arts, especially because he had fought necromancers during his distant military campaigns.

“I don’t understand,” Anahí whispered. “How can we be under attack? The guard should be able to defeat a few skeletons.”

“Maybe it’s a protocol evacuation, like what happens during fires. Either way, better safe than sorry.”

The owner of the establishment quickly climbed the stairs, walked to his bedroom, and without further delay, slipped his left hand under the bed. There lay a sheathed sword, the same one he had used for years during his days as a warrior for hire.

Seconds later, he came back down with the weapon hanging from his old leather belt.

“Dear, could you help me with the chainmail?”

“Huh? Why are you putting on armor? We should be leaving already.”

“We don’t know how serious this is. Better to go prepared. Come on, help me. Ana, you go seal the cellar and prepare the locks.”

“A-Ah, yes. I’m going.”

It was a race against time.

The family did not know where the so-called monsters were, and because of that, they acted almost blindly.

Ana sealed the cellars with four full sets of locks, all of them hardened by years of proper maintenance. The fifth lock, however, was the most difficult to move, as it required a combination of steps only Abad and Anahí knew.

It was shaped like a clock, but covered in iron, with gold inlaid into the hands, which turned like those of any other device. To inexperienced eyes, the fifth lock could pass for a pocket watch.

“Everything’s closed, Daddy. We have to go before we lose the crowd.”

“Ana is right, dear. Let’s go now.”

“Very well, let’s go. I’ll bar the door myself.”

Once his family had evacuated the house, Abad placed two “clock” locks on the main door. He did not want any unwanted guests taking advantage of the opportunity to steal their belongings or, worse yet, the tavern’s supplies.

He chose to wait half an hour in order to protect his property.

A questionable choice, but an understandable one for any other member of the lower classes.

The dark streets were illuminated by dozens of torches held by the local guard and volunteer adventurers. As part of its tax treaty with the kingdom, the guild was obligated to provide support in cases of extreme necessity.

Entire families marched toward the castle and military fort that decorated the city. General panic had not yet broken out. The presence of well-armed soldiers was reassuring to most civilians. Despite living in a dangerous world, with roads full of monsters and unscrupulous bandits, cities remained bastions of civilization.

“I don’t see any undead,” Ana whispered as she walked quickly along the pavement.

“That’s better. They’re probably still trying to—”

THUD.

Suddenly, an explosion stunned the family.

By instinct, all three of them threw themselves to the ground, covering their ears with both hands. That was when Abad understood the gravity of the situation and cursed himself for not escaping sooner.

“Is everyone all right?” the former mercenary asked, instinctively bringing his right hand to the pommel of his weapon.

“Y-Yes. We have to hurry…”

Then, it happened.

.　　　　.　　　　.

From the main gate, where a few guards were still evacuating civilians, dozens of skeletons armed with spears, swords, and clubs appeared. They did not move slowly. On the contrary, their speed matched that of an average person.

“Defend the civilians!” shouted the captain of the guard, a mature man hardened by constant enemy incursions. He wore a gray cuirass, worn down by years of use, a good-quality chainmail shirt, and carried a heavy mace. “Soldier Technique: Shout!”

The veteran’s throat filled with magical energy. He shaped words of power within his soul and then released his spell in the form of a powerful sonic wave that pushed several skeletons back.

That action bought them some time, but not enough to evacuate all the villagers.

“W-Where are so many of them coming from…?”

Behind the skeletons came hundreds of zombies, freshly raised corpses that moved like soulless dolls in search of living flesh. Some still wore the clothes in which they had been buried, while others, older and with rotten chunks hanging from their bodies, charged forward completely naked.

“Fire Magic: Great Torrent!”

A group of mages from the guild formed up on a watchtower. There, they shaped elemental mana together and raised a tornado of flames that swept away the skeletal vanguard.

Unfortunately, their triumph was useless.

While they recharged their energy for another attack, the zombies breached the wall and charged straight at the people who were still fleeing.

“No, no, no! Stop them!” the captain shouted.

He immediately raised his mace and mercilessly smashed the skull of an undead creature with great violence. The thing’s rotten brains flew through the air. Then he focused his attention on two more individuals already charging toward him. They were unarmed, but clearly intended to tackle him and devour him on the ground.

SPLASH.

Fortunately, they failed to knock him down.

His heavy armor protected the captain from the impact, and once again, he swung his mace from side to side to destroy his attackers.

Other guards, unfortunately, did not share the same luck. They were surrounded by dozens of monsters with no chance to defend themselves, and as a result, they ended up being devoured.

“AAAAAAHHHH!”

The scream of a poor soldier came without delay.

He had been knocked down by three zombies. They seized both his hands and his left leg. For a few moments, they left his right leg free, but if there had been even a shred of hope left in him, it died when a fourth zombie grabbed him there.

“No, no! Help me!”

By nature, the human body was not designed to tear flesh apart. However, the zombies had lost their humanity and every trace of intelligence. Having returned to their primitive roots as homo sapiens, they used different methods to devour the poor man.

From bites infected with bacteria to tearing skin apart with long nails that resembled an animal’s claws.

“AAAAHHHHH!”

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Being eaten alive by a swarm of undead was a horrible way to die.

Just like him, dozens of brave soldiers and adventurers met their end.

But the worst was only just beginning.

.　　　　.　　　　.

Ana and her family’s escape was frustrated sooner than they expected. Abad stepped forward, his old sword held firmly between his fingers. He had not wielded the weapon in nineteen years, and his condition was no longer the same as it had been in his mercenary days.

Even so, he had no choice but to face the enemy that had appeared before them.

Everything happened so quickly that his mind was still processing the information at full speed.

Just after the explosion, a muscular zombie appeared in front of the frightened family.

“Daddy, no! We have to run!”

“No,” the former mercenary replied. “If we turn our backs on a zombie, it’ll eat us.”

The walking corpse still wore its old clothes: a gray tunic covered in dust, with a black stain spreading across its entire abdomen. It was barefoot, and all the toes on its left foot were missing. Even so, the rest of its structure remained firm.

“Abad, dear, don’t do this! Let’s call the guard!” Anahí did not view the decision favorably either.

She had met her husband after his life as a warrior, and because of that, she did not know whether Abad’s skills would be enough to protect them.

“GRRRRR.”

Incapable of holding a conversation or showing the slightest sign of intelligence, the zombie ran at full speed toward Abad.

“Daddy, NOOOOO!”

SLASH.

The undead creature’s arms flew through the air.

It was a fleeting movement, precise and, in a way, beautiful.

“Mercenary Technique: Disarm.”

“What is well learned is never forgotten.”

Abad demonstrated exactly why he had been able to retire by choice.

For a mercenary, life was very short. Seventy percent of soldiers of fortune ended up buried in a mass grave, with flies as their final companions and no farewell at all.

Ana and Anahí, on the other hand, were stunned.

The kind Abad, loving father and husband, who had always watched over his family’s well-being, was also a relatively skilled swordsman.

“D-Dear…” his wife whispered.

“AARGGGHHH!”

The beast did not give up. Despite having both arms severed, it lunged at him again, this time with its entire forehead.

And once again, Abad ended the fight quickly.

His blade drew a beautiful sideways arc that decapitated the zombie without giving it a chance to react.

“D-Daddy…” Ana still had not recovered from the shock. She nearly opened her mouth wide in excitement. “I-Incredible.”

“No,” the former soldier replied. “We can be surprised later. We have to leave now!”

The family resumed their movement. By now, they were already trotting, having abandoned their orderly march. They were not the only ones. Hundreds of refugees were running aimlessly in a desperate attempt to save their lives. Nothing remained of the initial order.

“More zombies are coming,” Abad murmured. “Stop.”

Two undead intercepted them, coming straight out of a house. Hanging from their torn jaws were freshly severed fingers from their poor owners. Ana could not take it anymore. She fell to her knees and expelled the contents of her stomach.

It was too much for her.

She had seen a terrifying scene and, like any rational person, felt sickened by the violence.

“U-Uh, Daddy, l-let’s go…”

“Damn it! Stay behind me!”

Anahí did not look well either. Her face had gone pale from panic, but she managed to remain steady enough to grab her daughter by the shoulders and, with a sharp tug, pull her back to her feet.

“Ana, Ana, react. We cannot lose our heads.”

“A-Ah…”

But saying it was one thing.

Doing it was something very, very different.

Ana was suffering a real panic attack. Her heart pounded hard, and the world around her began to fade.

“Ana!”

As a last resort, her mother slapped her so hard that the girl had no choice but to return to reality.

“Snap out of it! We have to stay together!”

“A-Ah, yes, yes, I know.”

The frightened young woman wiped the vomit from her lips and blew her nose to recover her breathing. Abad, on the other hand, faced the zombies once again.

These were not as muscular as their previous attacker, but they compensated for that with a supernatural hunger that could only be satisfied with human flesh. Ana and her family did not even get a good look at them. They were so full of adrenaline that describing the zombies with words was useless.

Were they tall?

Thin?

Obese?

Strong?

No idea.

They were already dead. It was not worth describing them one by one. After all, they shared a single mission:

To devour people.

“Light Magic: Great Impact!”

Abad’s longsword shone with a silver glow.

The arcane arts were not exactly his specialty, but in his glory days, he had trained for several years under the guidance of a master swordsman from the distant east. As a result, he had learned a few spells that proved useful in combat.

The most powerful technique in that small arsenal was precisely “Great Impact,” a technique that consisted of gathering mana and mixing it with a source of light.

In this case, the user’s own life force.

“Come on, dear…” Anahí murmured.

“AAAAHHHH!”

A silver ray shot out from the sword at great speed. The zombies never saw it coming. In less than the blink of an eye, they were reduced to ash.

“Now let’s go. Go, go!”

After defeating the zombies, Abad grabbed his wife and daughter by the wrists and, without further delay, continued their escape through the city.

By this point, some houses were already burning, and the smell of fire wasted no time reaching them.

It was a horrible stench, like roasted meat gone terribly bad. The floor, once white and clean, was now a blood-soaked river with viscera floating alongside severed limbs.

The horror.

The horror.

The horror.

How many of those people were their neighbors?

How many tavern customers were lying there, drowning in a pool of blood that seemed as if it would never stop flowing?

“We’re almost there. Come on, come on, come on.”

Ana spotted the lord’s castle ahead. The structure consisted of two towers filled with archers who were repelling the invaders from a distance.

We’re still several meters away, Ana thought as her jelly-like legs refused to stop trembling with every step she took.

“Get down!”

With a single movement, Abad threw himself chest-first to the ground, knocking both women down with him.

For an instant, Ana and Anahí were tempted to complain about being shoved like that. However, they understood the mercenary’s reaction when the poor villagers running in front of them were roasted by a beam.

Sadly, Ana knew those people…

The first was a thin man, bald and with a long beard that made him look funny. He worked cleaning houses, and Abad would even hire him sometimes to help with the restaurant dishes.

Now, the poor man would never earn another coin.

The second person killed by that unknown beam was a middle-aged woman, a mother and part-time cook at another tavern.

Their bodies were left unrecognizable.

Like charred chicken on a spit.

“I-It’s impossible.”

The calm Abad lost his composure.

He immediately stood back up with his sword in hand.

“Daddy, what was that?”

“No, no, goddamn it! Listen to me. No matter what happens, do not move away from me. Do not run. Do not turn your backs on the enemy.”

Without warning, a cloud of black smoke appeared.

Half a second later, Ana finally saw the murderer of her dear neighbors.

It was a different kind of skeleton. It carried a gray staff with a small skull at the tip of the scepter. It also had messy hair that looked completely unnatural on that skull, dead for decades.

“Dear, what’s happening?”

“It’s a lich…” Abad whispered.

Unlike the moving skeletons and cheap zombies, a lich did retain a hint of intelligence. They were capable of using black magic and, in the worst cases, organized themselves like animals to hunt down their enemies.

“Black Magic: Soul Knife!”

The lich’s unnatural voice echoed in Abad’s ears. It was not a human sound. On the contrary, it was like hearing glass shatter into a thousand pieces.

Seconds later, the undead launched a black arrow toward the mercenary’s chest.

In his prime, that attack would not have been a problem for him. But Abad’s age, combined with his lack of recent training, nearly played a cruel trick on him.

The mercenary bent both legs at the same time, as if performing a planche push-up. He did it by sheer reflex, without truly thinking that such a movement would be enough to survive.

And indeed, it was.

The ray of energy passed right over him and struck a burning house instead.

If not for the reflexes born from instinct and experience, the magical projectile would have pierced through his mail without difficulty.

“T-That was close.”

Ana brought her right hand straight to her chest and tried to breathe deeply to free herself from the horror invading her.

She could not.

That was simply impossible.

A civilian without training or discipline had no place in a dangerous situation.