Chapter 256: [256] The Dead Shall Rise Again

Yennefer created a strong, secured dome just at the edge of the burning flames. This way, they could easily evacuate the people though it when she was done healing.

The knights were waiting at the other side, the second line of defence just in case something went awry.

While Jade transformed to her human form and took to the skies, going to search for survivors, Eliron ventured out of the dome.

With only a few living people left, the screams had died down, the undead taking dominion over the port.

And right now, all of them had fixed their eyes on the freshest feast. They wished to taint him with their corruption, the only order running through their heads, was to poison his core with the madness that ran through them.

But Eliron would never allow it.

Admittedly, his hands trembled lightly when watched them, all one thousand plus citizens that had been turned in the blink of an eye.

Eliron had heard about the undead, read about them in books. But staring right at them, it was a whole other experience.

They seemed far too human, dead as they looked, and the thought of cutting them down like goblins did not sit well with him.

Even the dead deserved respect. Their bodies deserved to be treated with care...

But to prevent the city from falling, Eliron had to slaughter every single one of them, crush their skulls so they would never rise again—steel his heart and get the job done.

For the sake of others they had to die... They were dead already either way.

The undead bumped into each other as they raced after him, hands outstretched, teeth clamping down as they imagined his flesh beneath their teeth.

They looked like a horde of zombies he had often watched in movies back on earth, but although undead looked a lot like zombies, they were nothing alike.

Zombies were fictional, this was the real deal, the stark difference between them being magic, cursed magic.

These dead bodies were moved by a command, a spell that had been wired deep into the curse.

They were not mindless, they were organized in their lethality. Even now, instead of swaying him, they slowly swarmed him, meticulous in their approach.

Eliron watched them from the side of his eye, and then madness descended upon the docks.

His black blade was washed with blood as he sliced right through a dead man’s head, brain matter splattering out, splashing into another’s eyes.

Eliron dug his sword into the second one’s chest, then swung it up, the blade bursting out of the center of his head.

Another group dashed at him from the back, hoping to catch him by surprise. The first was wielding a large axe, likely pried out of the cold, dead hands of a guard.

The other was bare handed, while the last one grasped a sharpened stick. The three of them moved as a team, their attack effortlessly executed.

Perhaps they were friends before their demise, perhaps brothers? It was not unheard of for undead to retain a few character traits.

Eliron did not think much of it. His blade lashed out at their throats and they leaped back, all at once. But it was a feint. Eliron immediately bolted, and before their feet could land, he swung.

The axe wilder swung at Eliron to defend himself, but Eliron sliced the axe apart, right through the blade, just before his sword cleaved their heads apart.

His body flickered like a mirage as he cut through the crowd, blood splattering up into the air with each strike, a bloody mist following each arc, each immaculate slash of his blade.

Some were black, Eliron really appreciated them. But far too many were red...

If there was one thing that was greatly underplayed in zombie movies, it was how easy it was to put one down.

They never spoke of how it felt...

Each time Eliron’s blade dug through a heart, each time he sliced through skulls, feeling his sword rattle as it sliced through bone, the vulgar squelsh as he cut through eyes, and the explosive pop as the head burst apart... a part of his humanity quenched.

He had always thought himself a hard man, but after decimating over two hundred, coated in so much blood that his body was sticky, Eliron felt nauseous.

Then he heard a cry. It was low, barely noticeable, but it was human.

He carved his way through bodies, searching up until he found her. A girl was curled into a ball underneath a stall, screaming as she stared at an undead.

The woman had orange hair that mirrored the child’s, perhaps her mother. But the woman the child knew was long gone, and now she was reaching underneath the stall, trying to pull her out.

A purple hand grabbed the girl’s leg, but almost immediately, blood followed.

The woman turned to snarl at him, as Eliron’s black blade whistled through the air. He heard a scream, it was the girl, begging him to stop. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Eliron’s blade froze, inches away from the woman’s face.

The undead leaped. But not at him, at the girl. The crafty thing was smart enough to know that she stood no chance against him.

Her blackened teeth were wide open, her hands outstretched as she went for the screaming child.

But something dark came down, the woman’s head rolled underneath the stall, right towards the foot of her daughter, eyes wide open in true death.

The child vomited atop her mother’s corpse.

It was a sight Eliron was sure he would never forget, even if he tried.

Just then, Jade descended with a gust of wind. She had partially transformed into what looked like a semi dragon.

Her scaly winds were fully outstretched, while her feet had transformed to sharp claws. In each one, she held a survivor, she had another one in her left hand, her right had the only limb that was free.

Eliron kicked the stall away and reached for the girl. His heart ached when she flinched, even more so when she tried to run, towards the horde, as though to say they were more human than him.

He grabbed her, kicking and screaming, before handing her to Jade, his eyes colder than the winter frost.

"She is the last survivor..." Jade said as she blasted into the sky, heading toward Yen’s dome.

Eliron sent a gust of wind billowing forward, blasting off the undead that were racing towards him.

Then he unleashed his mana, encompassing the entire port with it. Using it, he searched for the faintest spark of life, but after a few seconds, he was certain that she was right.

There was no one left, no one living at least.

As the horde raced towards him, some falling atop each other as they stampeded forward, Eliron shut off his heart of all emotions, of all distractions.

He could differentiate every single one of them, their clothing, the tools they held, telling stories of who they were, of who they had been....

But none of it mattered anymore.

Eliron took his stance and raised his sword high, his eyes closed for a fraction of a second, and when they snapped open, they were as luminescent as the very sun.

A spark of disaster. And a slash that overturned the world—

[Supreme Sword Aura]

It was as though reality itself had been split apart. An invisible slash wrought though the world, eviscerating everything in its path.

Buildings, undead, ships, everything was completely dismantled in the face of the slash.

Blood went up so high that they blanketed the skies, only to come back down as crimson rain. And then there was silence, an eerie sought of silence that encompassed everything.

’I can’t leave things like this...’ Eliron thought.

Just one survivor, or someone who dared to experiment on these bodies could lead to the curse spreading again...

He raised his hands up into the sky in a casual gesture, and the winds howled at his command. The currents circled, picking up the bodies, buildings and debris, pulling them into one large tornado.

The tornado turned red with blood, just before Eliron set it ablaze, a gigantic fire tornado wreaking havoc in the docs.

Everything within it was reduced to ash and embers, and the embers drifted into the air, scattering all around the area.

Maybe it was the blood, or the cursed magic that had lingered in their bodies, but the embers were tinted a deep shade of crimson, falling all around him like Sakura blossoms in spring.

Prince Alex, Artie, and Ash arrived seconds after with a battalion of knights. But they were already far too late.

They had seen the veil of blood that touched the skies, the crimson tornado that swallowed it and the red ash, they had all seen it...

They all watched Eliron as he stared into space, standing atop the scorched ground, the weight of a thousand deaths pressing hard on his soul.

But no one made a move, they all watched, trying to imagine the massacre that had ensued.

The knights looked sick, their faces pale as they caught glimpses of the bloodstains that seemed to be everywhere—

The blood that coated Eliron like a second skin, soaking his head down to his feet, the blood that dripped down his blade...

He had killed them. He had killed them all...

Due to the tight hold the king had on information, most did not know that there was nothing to be done, that there was no saving the people he had killed.

So they imagined the worse.

A screen flashed in front of Eliron.

[The people of Donia are stunned at your utter disregard for human life]

[The Knights are disgusted at the sight of you]

•••

[Celestia grieves at the loss of life today]

[Celestia is stunned by your actions...]

[Celestia wonders if you were pushed by the will to save, to protect, or driven by an urge to protect your interests]

[There is a debate in heaven]

[You have been granted a title]

[Eliron Tranquil, Crimson Lord Of Embers]

Rain began to fall shortly after, washing away the blood that had soaked him. But no matter how much Eliron rubbed his hands in the rain...

When he stared back at them, all he saw was red.

——————

End of Volume 3

The Dead Shall Rise Again.