Chapter 83 : Chapter 83

Chapter 83: The Madness of Icata (1)

I quickly twisted my body to dodge his attack.

At the same time, I threw a punch.

Pow!

It felt like striking a thick crocodile hide.

He rose as if untouched, charging at me again.

“Damn it. Should’ve brought a sword.”

I had no choice.

I focused mana into my fist and pummeled the zombie’s stomach.

Pop-pop-pop-pop-bang!

A barrage of punches battered the zombie’s body.

Yes, a zombie.

He had become a damned zombie.

The zombie staggered back, finally toppling a display stand and collapsing beneath it.

Graaah…!

Even so, he thrashed, struggling to rise.

I frowned.

“Not your average zombie.”

Only one culprit came to mind.

That zombie bastard named Zad.

Only he, created by the Elixir of Death, could make such a variant zombie.

“That bastard Guartes, pulling this without a word…”

I clenched my fist tightly.

No, now wasn’t the time.

I had to deal with this mess first.

“Senior!”

At that moment, Yuria ran toward me.

She already had her sword drawn, its blade dripping with fresh blood.

There was more than one zombie.

“You okay?”

“And you?”

“I’m fine too. The zombies came out of nowhere…”

As she spoke, Yuria swung her hand.

The zombie thrashing under the stand froze solid, falling still.

The workshop’s interior was a wreck.

The sudden zombie outbreak had sent citizens fleeing, scattering goods, while the outside remained chaotic with shouts and screams.

“More outside, huh.”

I picked up a sword lying nearby.

An arming sword—shorter than what I was used to but light and well-balanced.

I turned to Yuria.

“Go outside and secure the area, Yuria. We don’t know where more zombies might pop up. Protect the civilians.”

“What about you, senior?”

“I’m heading upstairs.”

The zombie employee had clearly been turned on the second floor.

The red carpet he’d laid out proved it.

And faintly, sounds of combat had been drifting from upstairs.

My instincts kicked in.

The mastermind behind this chaos was up there.

Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen Hans.

“Then I’m counting on you!”

“Yes! Be careful!”

I climbed the blood-drenched stairs.

The scene on the second floor unfolded.

“…Y-You!”

Hans, sword in hand, lit up at the sight of me.

His exhausted face showed he’d barely held on.

I quickly assessed the situation.

Four zombies. And Hans… protecting his son.

Behind him, a youth younger than me trembled in terror.

Then, a zombie right in front of me lunged.

Hans shouted, “Watch out! These aren’t normal zombies! Their skin is tough…!”

He fell silent as a zombie’s head was severed, collapsing limply.

I darted through the gap, approaching him.

Hans stared at me, astonished.

“Impressive young man.”

“Gerard, Frey Academy, Class of 888.”

“I know. Saw you in Royal Dream.”

His praise was appreciated, but now wasn’t the time for chitchat.

“Take your son and get out. My junior’s waiting downstairs.”

“What about you, Gerard?”

“I’ve got to hold these things off.”

Hans hesitated briefly but nodded at my next words.

“Save your clueless son first.”

“…Thank you. I won’t forget this.”

That was enough for me.

“I’ll call the knights!”

With that, Hans led his son downstairs.

Confirming their exit, I turned to the zombies, who stood rooted, staring at me.

Their unsettling gazes grated on me.

Especially the one at the back.

“You’re that bastard, right? Guartes’s minion, Zad.”

He was bigger than before, but I remembered those dry-well eyes.

“Should I thank you for waiting?”

Then it happened.

A dark tunnel opened, and Clatter burst out.

I hadn’t summoned him.

Once again, he’d opened a subspace on his own.

Click!

Clatter nodded at me.

Belatedly, I recalled our promise.

“Next time we meet, I’ll let you take him on properly.”

I smacked my forehead.

Forgot about that.

Clatter, gripping a dagger, was poised to charge, utterly trusting I wouldn’t break my word.

Can Clatter take him down before the knights arrive?

And if Clatter killed him, he’d use Thought Devouring.

Could he handle that massive influx of thoughts?

Whatever, take him down first.

I nodded, and Clatter shot toward Zad like an arrow.

Naturally, the remaining zombie minions were mine.

The absurd part? The minions didn’t stop Clatter, who charged first.

Instead, they rushed me, as if to keep me from interfering.

“Dead things telling me to stay out of it?”

Graaah!

They answered with swords.

Swords?

Shockingly, these zombies wielded swords.

I realized instinctively.

These two are different.

Their attire stood out.

The zombies I’d downed on the first floor and to save Hans wore workshop uniforms.

Not these two.

They were armed.

Leather jackets with imperial insignias, long swords, and long muskets protruding over their shoulders.

The combat gear of the Capital Defense Force.

The Defense Force got hit?

If so, this was a major incident.

The Defense Force wasn’t large, but they were still regular troops under the Capital’s command.

If they’d been turned, the Capital’s defenses were breached, meaning zombies could pop up anywhere.

Damn it. What the hell’s happening in Icata?

The fate I’d twisted was spiraling into an uncontrollable vortex.

Deal with these two first.

I shook off stray thoughts, focusing on the fight.

These zombies seemed to retain some of their living memories.

Not only did they use swordsmanship, they coordinated attacks.

“Oh? Try blocking this.”

I infused variation into my swift sword strikes.

Dual Illusion Sword.

The moment their systematic movements faltered was now.

Grah?

The zombie that blocked my sword tilted its head, staring at its severed arm, baffled as if wondering why it was cut despite parrying.

That was its last moment.

Slash!

Confirming its head fall, I swung at the other.

The zombie, about to stab me, leaped back, discarding its sword.

Dropping its sword?

It drew a long musket from its back, aiming at me.

Thud!

But my thrown dagger embedded in its forehead first.

Flop—

I retrieved the dagger from the fallen zombie, its brain destroyed.

Though I’d taken them down easily, my expression hardened.

Stronger than in life.

Zombies were low-tier undead because they were slow, clumsy corpses.

Their corpse poison was fearsome, but avoidable.

Any decently trained person could take one down alone.

But these were different.

Tougher skin, faster movements.

Dead, they felt no emotion, pain, or fear of death.

Most terrifyingly, they retained their living skills.

If a Central Knight got turned…

The thought alone was a catastrophic nightmare.

I have to stop it.

I glared at the mastermind.

Crack-crack-crack!

A fierce battle raged there.

It seemed evenly matched, but only bone shards scattered.

Zad’s tough skin repelled Clatter’s dagger, while his sharp claws crushed and shattered Clatter’s body.

Joining would annoy Clatter, but I had no time to care.

That bastard couldn’t be let go.

He had to die here.

Then—

[*Khehehehe!*]

Zad, meeting my eyes, grinned grotesquely, lips tearing.

He grabbed Clatter and threw him.

Literally.

As if he’d only been toying until now.

Seizing the fast-moving Clatter, he hurled him at me.

“Crazy bastard.”

I dodged Clatter flying toward me.

I wanted to catch him, but I couldn’t.

I saw Zad bolt from his spot.

He headbutted the workshop wall, smashing it, and leaped below.

Splash!

Rushing over, I peered down where he’d jumped.

A river flowed below, leading to the Sewer District.

“Damn it.”

No time to hesitate.

I tore off my jacket and dove into the water.

Plunge!

The water was pitch-black.

Amid floating filth and the city’s detritus, the rancid stench overwhelmed.

The vile water made it impossible to see an inch ahead.

Even Night Vision, which turned night to day, was useless in this muck.

I tried Detection to track him, but I lost him.

“Hoo.”

Underwater, I hadn’t noticed how far I’d drifted.

“Oh, Clatter!”

I hurried back to the workshop.

The streets were filled with zombie corpses and blood.

The militia cleared bodies, while cloaked knights controlled the area.

One stopped me.

“This area’s still dangerous.”

“Gerard, Frey Academy, Class of 888. My junior’s inside.”

“…You’re him.”

As the knight opened his mouth—

“Senior!”

Yuria ran up from behind.

* * *

In the investigation room at Central Knights Headquarters, Yuria and I faced a man.

A narrow jaw and slicked-back hair.

His sharp impression belonged to Saika Luzbell, deputy commander of the Central Knights’ First Division.

The First Division of any knight order was an elite unit of the strongest knights.

A deputy commander meant second-best in swordsmanship.

Comparable to Chaser Idna, maybe slightly weaker.

We faced such a figure because of the recent zombie incident.

After the scene was secured, Saika questioned us thoroughly.

What happened in the workshop, what enemies we faced, how we responded.

I recounted everything.

“So the leader didn’t engage until the end?”

“Yes. He watched his minions fight, then fled.”

I omitted Clatter, mixing in some lies.

“I chased him but, as you see, I lost him.”

“I see.”

Saika scribbled with his pen.

I stared blankly.

“Senior, you okay?”

Yuria asked, concerned in her voice.

“I’m fine.”

I smiled, but I wasn’t.

I couldn’t focus on the investigation.

An hour ago, when I reunited with Yuria, I rushed back to the workshop.

But Clatter was nowhere to be found.

I pressed Yuria, but she said, “When I got there, the workshop was empty.”

I bit my lip hard.

Clatter was missing.

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