“Ow...!”
The dagger embedded itself just below her left shoulder blade. Unused to pain, the burning sensation of the hit rushed through her, forcing her to her knees. What happened next, even Siegfried—who had gotten rid of his spear in an opening and drawn his sword—hadn’t foreseen.
“Huh? What’s this sound? What’s going on?!”
The dagger was hissing strangely. Sparks shot from the pommel. The necromancer wasted precious moments in her befuddlement—if she had grabbed the dagger and tossed it away, maybe she could have escaped her fate.
“Waaah... Aaaah!”
Maybe she could have avoided the mad dance she leaped into as a ball of flame began to swallow her.
“What’s goin’ on?”
“Eep...!”
“S-Someone’s burnin’ up!”
The Fellows were busy hacking away at the first zombie, but they couldn’t stop themselves from stopping and looking over at the ghastly sight. A flame that rivaled the sun erupted from the necromancer. No matter how much she tried, the flames wouldn’t subside. No amount of panicked flapping could arrest the steady burn of a thermite payload.
“D-Dammit, Kaya... You gave me something scary...” Siegfried muttered.
The hero-hopeful watched the scene, his stomach dropping at the sight that he had caused, as he understood the meaning behind what his childhood friend had earnestly told him: “Don’t be near it when you use it! Once you twist the pommel, throw it as far as you can! Promise me that! Please, promise me!”
Siegfried understood that this was an improved, throwable version of the weapon that had brought an end to their winter-long battle in the cursed cedar ichor maze.
It was an effective weapon, for sure, but it didn’t seem like the sort of thing that people should use. The hero-hopeful felt a shiver run down his spine at the fact that Kaya had given him this weapon with the intent that he would use it.
The necromancer’s cries were engulfed by the roaring nano-thermite until she eventually collapsed, never to move again. The flames that lit up the night offered no mercy, merely content to gnaw away until they were finally satisfied. Soon the mage’s body stiffened into a charred mass. The light had been blinding for the Fellows, whose eyes had grown used to the night, and all that remained was a blackened, almost unidentifiable heap.
“Huh...? Talk about terrifying...” Dietrich muttered.
Despite the blood that trickled from her lips—she had suffered more internal damage from the second bullet—she couldn’t help but offer her frank thoughts on the scene.
All eyes moved to Siegfried. They had heard Kaya’s warning. They knew that she had foisted this dangerous thing on him. Their memories of the zombie horde being swallowed by the sea of flame still fresh in their minds, they swallowed the collective lump in their throat as they thought, Maybe the scariest person in the Fellowship isn’t Erich... If Kaya could have heard their thoughts, she would probably start pointing the finger at Erich with tears in her eyes, but right now there was no one to fight in her corner.
As the Fellows stood in shocked silence, they heard the clangor of swords and remembered they were still in a pitched battle. Everyone, including Siegfried and Dietrich, had assumed that Erich would be fine, seeing as he’d said he would fight on his own. But his bout wasn’t over yet. A wave of concern swept across the group as they wondered why their leader would struggle with one zombie. In the next moment, that very same zombie came rushing past them.
“Wha—?!”
Everyone present was confused. How could this zombie be moving? Kaya had said that if the necromancer was killed, then their zombies would eventually die without a mana supply! But this zombie was moving with such speed that they could barely keep an eye on it, despite the end that the necromancer had met.
The second-in-command didn’t even bother to question why. It didn’t matter. If there was an enemy still to defeat, then it was better to ignore the small details and take them on.
“Charge!” Siegfried shouted.
Despite the confusion he felt at Goldilocks having let this zombie out of his sight, he calmly readied himself as the other Fellows followed suit. However, their act was for naught. The zombie that had come thundering toward them had gone right to the charred husk without hesitation.
“Oh... Ohhh...” It wailed like a wild animal.
The Fellows looked closer. It had lost one of its right arms, but had gathered up the ashes of its creator in what it had left.
“This is a tragic sight... How...?” it muttered.
“I-It spoke?!” Siegfried said.
The zombie shoveled the ashes into its mouth—a strange act of grief, perhaps? Its killing intent plain for all to see, it turned and stood, ready to fight. Its bare face and soot-streaked lips froze everyone in place. Metal plates affixed with nails imposed a haphazard but durable structure upon its bald head. Six extra eyes had been implanted all over its scalp. Its jaws had been given vicious fangs. What could the onlookers do but tremble in the face of such an aura of menace?
“You’ll pay for this... You’ll pay! RAAAAAH!”
“Oh crap...”
The zombie flailed its arms. Etan had been closest. Despite his huge frame, he went flying. His reflexes had saved him in the nick of time, but despite intercepting a direct hit with his sword, he was still flung three meters into the air and three times the distance away. Seeing a mighty audhumbla thrown around like a rag doll by a backhanded blow filled everyone at hand with an icy panic. That strength could crush limbs, pulverize bone, and liquefy organs, reducing an unlucky victim to a bag of mincemeat.
The zombie’s other arm extended, but just as it was about to grab Martyn’s throat, a high-pitched sound cut through the air. That arm had moved like a whip; it would have crushed Martyn’s windpipe a mere moment later.
“Boss!”
“Sorry! It left an arm behind and made a run for it!”
Erich looked worse for wear. His armor was charred in places, and his sleeve looked like it had been melted away. There was a wound on his cheek where it looked like the flesh had been abraded down to the bone.
“Watch out, that thing’s got acid in its veins! Get caught in the splash and you’ll end up like me, so don’t slash at it,” Goldilocks said.
“Acid?! How does that work?” Siegfried replied.
“Hell if I know! But I have a plan, Siegfried!”
Erich pulled a bag from his pouch and threw it to his comrade.
“I’ll engage it, so while I’ve got its attention, I want you to place those tags so that they surround it!”