Apocalypse Reset: My Crab Can Heal the World!-Chapter 123: Post-Apocalyptic Planning

Barns and Maria stand in a huddle at the edge of Dimartino's ruined castle, peering over her System UI. As she types the final words of her message to Jennifer, they read over the message one final time.

[Attn: Lantafort:

This is Barns. Yesterday, Dimartino was attacked by the Sentinel known as Nazakiel. While he has been successfully repelled, Dimartino has suffered heavy losses. King Clancy was killed in action and the castle has been partially destroyed.

Before his death, King Clancy erected a barrier around Dimartino, Ordella, and the Pale Court - this may be visible even from Lantafort. The barrier appears to be stable, and it has thus far been able to repel all evil, including the Sentinels, from stepping foot anywhere in the Kingdom.

This is a developing situation and we will keep you apprised of any further information.

In current developments - the road between Lantafort and Dimartino is no longer safe. 30,000 undead traveling in a horde have begun to surround the Dimartino barrier. They cannot advance, but they do not leave. We are working on a solution.]

"It's cold, but it'll do," Barns says meekly.

Maria nods, sending the message. She doesn't expect an immediate reply - there wouldn't be. Messages took time, and Jennifer's first goal would be to report this information to Commander Brahn.

"Well, that's that."

Barns closes his eyes. "Now for the rest."

The throne room is all but gone - it rests above the castle in ruins. So where the leadership of Dimartino once gathered around the mighty stone war table in the back of the throne room, they have now found a new place to meet - the map room, in the lower levels. Just a room away from the Administrator Zelia's domain.

Barns sits with Maria, Underhill, and Godrick, maps and hastily scribbled reports spread between them. While usually present, Eldrie and Osmond are not present - they went to collect the most recent reports from the scouting parties earlier and had not yet returned.

"Them undead buggers," Godrick mutters, tracing a finger along the outskirts of their territory. They've drawn a boundary line around where the barrier has fallen to understand the full scope of the area of protection. "They're packed in tight, all the way around this north side. Barrier keeps 'em out, but they're not goin' anywhere, mates. Seems right like somethin's holdin' em there, just as we thought. Another Zombie Lord like that Absalom - maybe more."

Barns exhales through his nose. "Could be the First Undead…how are we going to do this without Clancy?"

"Early scout reports already got me thinkin' the barrier works just like the big guy's foam did," Underhill explains. "So we just gotta get that horde to walk through the barrier - should cleanse 'em right up, and drop 'em on our doorstep - then bing, bang - resurrection time, Hero."

Barns grips his chest tightly. He could barely fathom performing his Resurrection without Clancy around. Though perhaps in some way, having the barrier is a way to always have access to Clancy's powers.

"I say we hold," Maria states, arms crossed and eyelids heavy. "The kingdom can't take another fight. If Nazakiel comes back -"

"No. We'll take the fight outside the barrier if we must." Barns narrows his eyes, determined. "We can't hold. There's no telling if the barrier will last forever. We have to press on as much as possible."

"Barns, have you already forgotten what we saw yesterday?" Maria snaps. "Clancy transformed could barely leave a scratch on Nazakiel! Sending anyone out of the barrier at this point is too dangerous. Do you not think that the Sentinels will want revenge for this humiliation?"

"Next time I see him, I'll kill him."

Everyone in the room looked to Barns, a mix of surprise and worry. His conviction is strong, but he speaks the impossible.

"I will."

There's a moment of silence that spreads throughout the room as nobody knows for sure how to respond. Of course they all want Nazakiel dead…but none of them are sure if it's possible. Barns and Clancy lost as a team, and now Clancy, their strongest warrior, is gone.

Maria sighs. "Well, I suppose my opinion doesn't matter, because the legendary hero of Dimartino has decided otherwise. Is that right?"

Underhill fidgets with the red marble in his jacket pocket, looking back and forth between Barns and Maria. It's unusual to see them at odds with each other - but every disagreement between others is an opportunity for Underhill. He ruminates in silence, for now.

Barns and Maria exchange a tense look. For all the bonding they'd done over the last 24 hours, there was still as much calculated ferocity as ever in the Princess.

"At least for the horde, I don't want to do anything dangerous," Barns assures her. "But I am sure of this. The barrier isn't something for us to hide in. It's a stronghold from which we can plan our counteroffensive."

Silence stretches, long and uneasy. Then, finally, Maria sighs, rubbing a hand over her face. "Fine. We try it."

They discuss other particulars of the meeting for some time, and eventually break off to complete their respective tasks. Barns, lost in thought, decides to go for a walk.

The hero walks the outer paths of Dimartino's burgeoning town, hands deep in his pockets as his thoughts drag behind him like weights. The night is quiet, despite everything. But not a peaceful quiet - a somber, grim quiet that suffocates their civilization.

The King is dead.

He nearly misses them—Eldrie and Osmond, sitting on the broken steps leading up to what used to be the castle storehouse. Now, it is a hill of rubble.

"So no, really, you haven't lived until you've tried fresh bayou crawfish," Eldrie says, gesturing with his hands. "They're huge, man!"

Osmond snorts. "I still think that sounds like something a desperate man eats. I prefer to eat full-sized animals - ones that can fight back."

Visit frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓ for the b𝘦st novel reading experience.

Barns stops in front of them. "When did you two get back? And get so chummy?"

Eldrie leans back, smirking. "Since ten minutes ago, apparently."

Osmond shrugs, tilting his head. "Strange times."

Before Barns can respond, movement shifts above them. A shadow at the far side of the courtyard.

Absalom.

He stands half in the dark, his form thin, stretched, almost like the light doesn't quite reach him. His voice is hoarse, his words deliberate. "The horde is moving."

Barns stiffens. "Moving how?"

Absalom lifts his head, his eyes reflecting something unreadable. "Changing."