Chapter 34: Zombie (Part 2)

“Young master, what are your orders?”

After he shook the bell by the bedside, an eager voice sounded at the door. Constantine frowned… Even though he knew the Duke often had Walter attend him recently, he still wasn’t used to the old man not being there.

“Where is Walter?”

“Before noon today, the master, Lady Angelina, young master Consens, and young lady Caterina had already left to attend an important banquet. They probably won’t return until tomorrow. Lord Walter accompanied them. Before leaving, he specifically instructed us not to wake you, young master. Since you are awake, would you like a meal?”

“No need, I have no appetite.”

The young man shook his head. The sunlight coming through the window lattice seemed unusually harsh… Even through several layers of gauzy curtains, it still felt glaring to him and made the muddle in his head even worse.

It took quite a while for the slightly clearer-headed young man to notice that the sun outside the window had long since passed well beyond the sky’s midpoint. Ever since arriving in this world, this was the first time he had gotten up at this hour. But this didn’t mean his troubles were over. That unusual headache reminded him a bit of the feeling when he first arrived in Hayton a few days ago. After sorting out his thoughts, he could only think it was the effect of that cup of green drink… Or was it because this body was experiencing so much alcoholic beverage for the first time?

“My head is killing me. Are you sure it’s not because something went wrong while brewing that damned stuff?” Although he didn’t have the legendary search engine, fortunately the young man had a pretty good encyclopedia.

“Nothing amazing, just a cup of Tyland brandy… a finely crafted magic liquor. Also called Faerie’s Tears. Before the Undead War, this stuff was quite popular in Mestalia, well, actually across the entire southeastern region. Almost every high-level mage had the habit of drinking it…” Hartdiel’s voice was always that stiff and flat, but Constantine always seemed to detect a certain meaning in it, just like now—the Lich’s tone was clearly teasing. “You’re really lucky. After the Holy War, this liquor was declared contraband by those guys at the Temple of the Three Gods. And because the ingredients are relatively scarce, it hasn’t been so easy to obtain anymore… The person who gave it to you probably only knew it was a drink enjoyed by mages…”

“The brewing process for this liquor is somewhat complex, but as long as the color is clear and green, it means it definitely wasn’t a failure… But don’t forget, no matter how weak the effect, it’s something labeled with magic. Where do you think that feeling of instantly increased intelligence after drinking it came from? Just a little headache as a side effect, you’re considered quite lucky! This is also because your Mental Power is strong. You should know, back then, there were plenty of high-level mages who got addicted to that feeling and sank deeper and deeper. After all, even though this stuff’s side effects are weak, it’s still categorized as a drug.”

“I knew that dead fatty was up to no good! Serves him right to be executed and have his family’s property confiscated!” The word “drug” sent a chill down his spine, and Constantine cursed fiercely. Actually, he was somewhat relieved. That unlucky Marquis didn’t have any ill intentions; he was just habitually trying to flatter him after learning of Constantine’s identity as a Spellcaster.

“If you knew the production process of that liquor, you’d probably want to kill him yourself… That liquor uses live faeries as an ingredient…”

“Shut up! Urgh…” Constantine felt a surge in his throat. He finally understood the principle of drinking less and knowing more…

“The side effects of this liquor aren’t too strong… Relaxing your mind and sleeping can both help effectively.” Fortunately, Archmage Hartdiel still had a shred of conscience—of course, this was under the intimidating power of the Soul worm: “The best method is to meditate right away.”

So Constantine endured the unpleasant sensation and once again slowly immersed his spirit into that world… As he concentrated, somewhat familiar images gradually appeared before Constantine. Only compared to the first meditation, the images seen this time were much more blurred, as if behind a thick fog. Dark streams of energy swirled around him. Within the dark space, it seemed countless strange things were tumbling and lingering.

As the circle of consciousness formed by his thoughts expanded outwards, those silvery threads, shimmering coldly like scattered stars, continually appeared within his mental space. The threads slowly gathered into distinct, clear lines and drifted towards the distant void. Although still far away, Constantine gradually could clearly feel a deep power beginning to linger within his thoughts, then slowly seep into every joint of his body, giving him a feeling of being full of strength.

This time, Constantine discovered his mental sensing seemed to have transformed from the initial nothingness into something almost tangible. And the silvery spiderweb in his mind had become increasingly distinct. According to what the Lich had explained before, for most Mages, after those line patterns gradually become clearer, it signified their understanding of the Weave of Magic had deepened a layer. But for Constantine, who relied on innate power, this could only partially indicate his Mental Power had become a bit stronger.

However, this feeling was still quite wonderful… His perception seemed to expand. The surrounding Darkness changed, no longer a uniform black, but various shades: jet black, deep black, light black, pale black, and even a silvery, blackish-gray, much like the gradations in an ink painting. And everything wasn’t static; it all seemed to be drifting mysteriously…

Time passed, and the night grew deep.

Tonight’s night was gloomy and dark, like the black drapes at a funeral, carrying a miserable taste. Enveloped in this Darkness, everything seemed dressed in mourning clothes… The moon and stars were completely hidden by dark clouds, not a single trace visible, as if they had all disappeared entirely. It wasn’t a torrential downpour, but an extremely fine water that made it impossible to distinguish individual droplets. It was unclear whether it was rain or snow—just that constant, fine, drifting mist that soon coated clothes with a layer of cold, penetrating, moss-like dampness.

From the distance came waves of annoying dog barks. Perhaps because tonight was especially dark, these beasts could only use frantic barking to vent their fear.

A servant staggered out of a room in the corner of the courtyard, muttering a curse about the weather, and stood by the wall to relieve himself. But suddenly, he felt a chill run down his spine. A certain damp, gloomy cold crawled from his scalp all the way to his tailbone, making him shiver violently and nearly wet his new shoes.

Did he catch a cold from all that trouble? He fastened his trousers, rubbed his nose wanting to sneeze, but opened his mouth a few times without success.

This did make him more alert, so he immediately noticed a strange noise coming from near the distant main gate. In the dim light of the simple guard post by the gate, he could barely make out a dark figure standing there.

“Old Larr? Is that you? Are you asleep?” the servant called out, but received no answer, only a faint rustling sound—the young man felt somewhat worried and walked over. Although Old Larr was just a low-ranking servant, he was kind to people. Most young servants had received his kindness, but recently he had grown old, and this night watch work was a bit beyond him. “Looks like we can’t have him do night watch anymore. If something goes wrong, we’ll all probably be punished,” the young man thought as he walked.

A distance of several dozen feet was covered in an instant, but the next moment, the young man froze!

That familiar old man was right under the light, but that originally familiar, somewhat plump and slack face had become terrifying to the extreme!

His mouth was wide open, probably shouting something, like a scream or such. Unfortunately, only strange exhalation sounds came from his throat, and that wasn’t him screaming, but the sound of air being squeezed out as his lungs shriveled. And his whole body was beginning to contract like a deflating balloon! Only one free arm waved incessantly. It was as if trying to fend off Demons in the void…

But Demons wouldn’t be driven away so easily… At this moment, the young man saw clearly, they swarmed around the poor old man. Arms twisted into strange shapes unconsciously wrapped around the old man’s body. Rotted mouths with brown teeth clamped tightly onto his body. And the withered skin and flesh on Old Larr’s face were slowly, gradually deforming and tightening, finally adhering to the bone. Strangely, his eyes were still active, still moving left, right, up, and down. It was just that the muscles on his face had completely withered. The lonely, moving eyes couldn’t express any emotion; they only showed he was still alive, feeling how he was dying bit by bit.

“Ahhh—!”

The young man let out a heart-rending scream. He wanted to turn and run, but his two legs were already disobeying him, so he tumbled and sat on the ground!

But the only effect of this sound was probably to make those terrifying monsters notice—several of them immediately released the already lifeless corpse and staggered towards him!

…

“Who’s screaming like a ghost? What happened?”

The piercing howl tearing through the night’s silence immediately triggered a series of chaotic sounds. Lights spread from the mansion’s gatehouse. First, several poorly dressed low-ranking servants rushed out the main door… cursing and trying to figure out what exactly had happened. Then, the entire mansion woke up.

The light from bullseye lanterns probed into the Darkness, trying to ascertain the cause, but for a moment, they saw nothing. The Darkness was like a greedy maw, swallowing the limited light sources.

“Use torches! Light several!” a clever servant suggested.

With a series of faint sizzling sounds, several large torches soaked in pine oil ignited. Perhaps each one wasn’t very bright alone, but gathered together they were definitely a stunning light source in the black night.

Thus, the torchlight tore open the Darkness for several dozen feet, but also brought a series of horrified screams!—What appeared in the torchlight was a terrifying scene beyond ordinary anticipation—two figures were staggering towards the group, only… in a sense, they could no longer be considered Human.

Their limbs were twisted in strange ways, with bones protruding from broken limbs. Their linen clothing was tattered like rags. Countless purplish-black marks and torn muscles and skin showed they had suffered some kind of tearing… Actually, to those with better eyesight, unique Human teeth marks were clearly visible on the wounds—but this tearing force was obviously not something an ordinary person could inflict. The belly of the smaller young man was torn open, with intestines spilling out a section. And the other one, his neck was like straw flattened in a storm, dangling as it connected to his body.

But these two men didn’t seem to think this was any big deal. They were slowly straightening their twisted bones, pressing the deformed flesh back into their bodies, emitting a series of wet, squelching, liquid-friction sounds, just like the most skilled craftsmen handling their tools.

“Evil Undead! By Pelo, how is this possible?”

A servant immediately shouted, followed by what seemed like a switched-on series of screams and uncontrollable dry heaves… Several maids almost instantly collapsed to the ground; the more timid ones directly fainted—In the torchlight, although the clothing on those two Undead was tattered, the remaining fabric on their shoulders and chests was enough for people to recognize they were the two low-ranking servants assigned to the mansion’s gatehouse.

“Stand firm! You lot! Move to the rear!” Amid the chaotic sounds, a low growl sounded behind them.

Accompanying this voice was a dim sword gleam. Before anyone understood what exactly had happened, the two Zombies had simultaneously fallen backward. In the torchlight, one could see one had half its head sliced off, the other had a huge gash on its chest, its entire chest almost cleaved in two. Thick, deep green, viscous liquid splattered everywhere, sizzling disgustingly on the ground as it burned out puffs of white smoke!

We can only say, these two Zombies were very unlucky… The person who rushed out of the room was no longer some maid or servant, but a formal Griffon Knight… The seven Griffon Knights serving as the Duke’s guards were among the most formidable of Knights. Although it was a sudden event, they still maintained considerable combat capability—The Knight who rushed out not only had sword and shield in hand, but also wore a helmet and breastplate, clearly already accustomed to things like night attacks.

“Good…”

Several male servants immediately cheered, but their voices were abruptly cut off in their throats…

The Griffon Knight frowned—outside the torchlight, among the sounds of heavy objects being dragged on the ground mixed with muffled noises like air being squeezed from deep water, a series of Shadows staggered into view at the edge of the illuminated area…

…

“Well, well, what on earth is going on? Those are… Zombies?” Not far from this battlefield, at a second-floor window of the Duke’s Mansion, Constantine let out a whistle of surprise.

Actually, when those chaotic screams started, Constantine had already agilely jumped out of bed… Meditation or something might really have a certain invigorating effect. Although this session was extremely long, Constantine felt even more refreshed than when he had just woken up.

But as his gaze swept over the garden below, the young man’s expression quickly turned grave—The vision granted by that unknown existence allowed the young man’s eyes to ignore the thick Darkness, and with the advantage of terrain, he could see farther than anyone.

Thus he noticed, within the shadows of the mansion’s garden, quite a number of human-like figures were moving. The young man could see the tattered linen corners on those poor victims clearly… They held various weapons in their hands… rather crude. Apart from a few wielding longswords and foils—judging from their attire, they were some Mercenaries or City Guards—there were also several Zombies holding simply a wooden stick, and one plump one in fancy clothes was even holding a cane. A few others could only move aimlessly with empty hands.

But this did not lower their threat, because these shadows numbered over fifty… The young man even saw, gazing into the distance, swaying figures on the distant streets.

The chaotic screams and collision sounds gradually spread towards the surroundings. Torchlight tore through the Darkness…

Hayton City was awakened!