Bezos, guarded by Fiore, rarely allowed the Empire’s forces to breach their defenses.
Though scattered skirmishes broke out here and there, the Empire never managed to break through the front lines.
The border of Briol remained steadfast.
It seemed the Empire’s invasion had been successfully repelled.
But then, something no one could have predicted began to unfold in an unexpected place.
“Hmm…”
Jemain tilted his head as he sat across from the patient.
“What symptoms are you experiencing?”
“My throat’s dry… I keep feeling hungry…”
“I mainly treat external injuries. For something like that, you’d be better off seeing another cleric or a doctor.”
“I’ve been everywhere, but no one knows the cause. I just thought if you could shine the healing light on me, maybe I’d get better. And pray, too. Then surely the gods will watch over me.”
“You’re very devout.”
“Of course.”
Jemain raised his hand toward the patient. On his chest, a badge marked him as a member of the Allied Forces Veterans Association.
“Oh, that badge. You served in the Allied Forces?”
“Yes. I was a military chaplain.”
“My goodness. The Allied Forces? You’re a hero.”
“No, no. I only fought alongside heroes.”
“Hey, that phrase sounds familiar. Did you see the Third Prince, too?”
“Every day. I saw him every day.”
“Wow, I’m jealous.”
Jemain studied the patient’s face.
His skin was sallow and gaunt—clearly something was seriously wrong.
Healing magic could help with illnesses to some degree, but it wasn’t nearly as dramatic as when treating wounds.
Jemain began the sacred rite.
“How do you feel?”
“Better… I think…”
“The gods are watching over you.”
“Yes. I believe that…”
As he performed the rite, Jemain prayed sincerely for the man.
He’d never seen anyone with such a dark complexion live long. If death came, he hoped the man’s soul would find peace.
“Ugh…”
The treatment ended.
The man rose unsteadily, bowed to Jemain, and staggered out of the room.
“Tsk, tsk…”
Jemain clicked his tongue. The assistant cleric nearby spoke up.
“Lately, we’ve been seeing quite a few like that.”
“Quite a few?”
“Yes.”
“They’re completely out of it.”
“Exactly. People with faces that dark coming in… I don’t know what’s going on. Maybe their livers are all shot, or something.”
“Such a tragedy.”
“Shall I call the next patient?”
“Yes.”
The assistant cleric poked his head out the door and called.
“Next brother, please come in!”
He suddenly froze mid-sentence.
“Huh?”
“What is it?”
Jemain looked at him.
The man’s head jerked toward the door, then he shut it quickly and turned back, pale as a ghost.
“C-cleric… th-th-that…”
“What’s wrong?”
“A-a knight. A temple knight!”
“What’s going on?”
“Call the temple knight! Call the temple knight!”
The assistant cleric seemed completely out of his mind, shouting for help.
“Why? Is someone causing a disturbance?”
“D-don’t go!”
“What is it?”
Jemain stood and opened the door to look outside.
“Huh?”
What he saw was surreal.
The patient he had just treated was biting into the neck of another patient waiting nearby.
The victim’s body convulsed, limp.
Blood dripped from between the attacker’s teeth.
“Kn-knight!”
The man kept gnawing, tearing flesh. Blood spurted. His once-dark, sallow face now flushed with color.
Blood smeared around his mouth, he tossed the victim aside and turned toward Jemain.
He no longer looked human.
Jemain slammed the door shut and locked it.
“W-what is that? Why is he like that?”
“I don’t know!”
Jemain was deeply unsettled.
It looked like something out of legend—an undead.
More specifically…
“A zombie?”
Exactly that.
Jemain recalled what he knew about zombies.
They lose their minds, crave human blood and flesh, and anyone bitten becomes one of them.
“Zombies? That’s nonsense. They’re just stories…”
“D-did you see that? Does that make sense?”
“B-but maybe the patient just went mad?”
“No. Something’s happening.”
If this were true, someone would have screamed, or temple knights would have rushed in to contain it. There should have been some reaction.
But all was silent.
That meant a serious problem.
Jemain clenched his fist.
“Wait here.”
“Cleric?”
“I’m going to check outside.”
“Y-you’re going out after seeing that?”
“It’s fine.”
Jemain shook his head.
“I can protect myself.”
He was a veteran of the Allied Forces. He wasn’t about to cower in fear.
Though not a frontline soldier, he had wielded weapons clumsily enough to defend himself when needed.
Jemain grabbed a sword resting in the corner of the treatment room—one a patient had left behind.
“Good thing there’s a weapon.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Even if I’m not, I have to do this.”
Jemain quietly opened the door and peered outside.
“…”
Nothing.
The bloodstains on the floor were fresh, but the zombie and its victim were gone.
“What the hell…”
Suddenly, something fell before his eyes.
Blood.
Instinctively, Jemain looked up and raised his sword.
“Ahhhhh!”
A zombie leapt down at him, jaws bared—and the blade plunged into its mouth.
“Grrrrrgh!”
The zombie thrashed, pierced through by the sword, then collapsed.
Jemain dropped both sword and corpse, sinking to the floor, gasping for breath.
“Damn it. What is this?”
He brushed his hair back, trying to calm his pounding heart.
“What the hell is going on…”
But it wasn’t over.
Several staggering figures appeared down the hall.
Though blurry, their movements were clearly unnatural.
“Hey, hey, hey.”
Jemain backed away, glancing behind him.
The assistant cleric stood frozen, pale as a corpse.
He was in full panic.
Jemain muttered a curse and pulled the sword from the zombie’s mouth.
“Snap out of it!”
“What is this… what is this…”
“Hey!”
Jemain snapped sharply and slapped the assistant cleric.
The man stared blankly.
“If you want to live, follow me.”
“Y-yes…”
“Stay alert. Got it?”
“Y-yes.”
“Trust me.”
Jemain said this, but inwardly he scoffed.
He had only ever followed knights around in the Allied Forces, never leading anyone. Now here he was, acting like some great swordsman guiding someone else.
But what choice did he have? Someone had to take charge.
Jemain fled the temple with the assistant cleric. Zombies appeared here and there, but he swung his sword and killed them.
Their physical abilities weren’t much different from ordinary people.
“Cleric!”
Outside, a temple knight ran toward him.
“You’re safe!”
“Oh, what was your name again…”
“Charlotte.”
“Ah, Lady Charlotte. What’s going on here?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked around nervously.
“It was time for the shift change, but no one came. When I came to check, I found this mess.”
“Is it like this everywhere?”
“It’s chaos.”
“This can’t be…”
“We need to get out of here. Follow me.”
“Where to?”
“Better to head to the lord’s castle for now.”
“Right. That sounds best.”
Lian Flandre, lord of Francaise, was a skilled knight and a capable ruler. He commanded a powerful order of knights.
“Let’s go.”
Jemain and the assistant cleric followed Charlotte.
Occasionally, survivors reached out begging for help, only to be bitten or turned into zombies themselves.
It was hell on earth.
“How could this happen…”
“My god.”
All around, corpses with exposed bones and entrails shuffled forward.
It was a scene straight out of a novel.
Even the brutal battles with orcs on the plains hadn’t felt this unreal.
“Is it just here?”
“I wish.”
Charlotte shook her head.
“If it were, the army would have come to clean it up. No news means chaos everywhere.”
“This can’t be…”
“Look!”
Charlotte shouted.
Horses in the stable attached to the inn were panicked, pacing wildly. The sturdy latch kept zombies out.
Charlotte smashed the lock with her sword and led the horses out.
She left three behind and released the rest to run free.
“Go!”
The freed horses scattered in all directions, galloping away. The zombies nearby gave chase, clearing the area.
“Let’s move.”
“Yes.”
Mounted, Jemain and the assistant cleric followed Charlotte.
The streets looked no different from what they’d seen so far.
Suddenly, a massive building appeared.
The Francaise University.
“Wait!”
Jemain blurted without thinking.
Charlotte turned.
“What is it?”
“Wait, wait—I want to check that out first!”
Charlotte’s eyes fixed on the university.
“Why stop?”
“Just hold on a second! We don’t have time to waste!”
Jemain pulled on the reins, bringing the horse to a halt in front of the main gate of Francaise University.
Charlotte, still mounted, frowned in irritation.
“Seriously? We don’t have time, so why stop here…?”
“This is the place.”
“Huh?”
“I’m sure of it.”
Jemain stared blankly at the campus grounds.
As someone versed in sacred rites, he could sense a sinister energy lurking within.
“Something’s happening here.”
“Looks normal to me.”
“I can feel it.”
Charlotte dismounted.
Though zombies occasionally wandered the grounds, there was nothing else out of the ordinary.
“Alright, I get it. Let’s report back to the lord.”
Just then, someone appeared from inside the campus.
“E-excuse me. Over here.”
He spoke in a hushed voice, careful not to attract the zombies.
A disheveled man approached quickly, glancing nervously from side to side before stopping in front of them, panting.
“I’m saved… You’re knights, right?”
“Who are you?”
“I’m a researcher here. I was working late last night and must have fallen asleep. When I woke up, everything was like this.”
Unfortunately, his movements caught the attention of the zombies.
The shambling corpses wandering the campus began to stagger toward them.
“Damn it.”
They weren’t fast, but the sight of those dead things limping and crawling closer was terrifying.
“Let’s get out of here—now.”
As Jemain turned, his assistant priest screamed.
“Ahhh!”
Before anyone noticed, a zombie had latched onto his calf.
He kicked wildly with his other leg but fell to the ground.
The horse panicked and reared.
“Damn it!”
Charlotte cursed and swung her sword. The zombie’s head and body separated instantly, the head dropping to the ground.
“Are you okay?”
“Y-yes…”
The assistant frantically rubbed the wound on his leg.
“I-I’ll be fine, right? It’s okay even if I got bitten, right?”
No one answered.
The legends about the dead were always the same.
If you got bitten, you turned into one of them.
Judging by how the campus was overrun, the infection had spread quickly.
The assistant pleaded.
“Priest, please heal me. If you use the sacred rites, it’ll all be fine. Please, right now…”
Jemain nodded and began the ritual.
But the wound didn’t heal. Instead, it seemed to worsen, as if something invisible was gnawing from within.
The injury deepened, blood flowing freely.
“Ahhh, ahhh…”
“F-first…”
Jemain started.
“Let’s get on the horses and—”
Before he could finish, Charlotte swung her sword again. The assistant priest collapsed, his head severed, falling atop the zombie’s corpse.
“No…”
“It’s too late.”
Charlotte’s face was cold as she sheathed her sword.
“If you get bitten by a zombie, you become one. I saw it on the way here.”
Jemain didn’t argue.
The allied forces had long accepted that not everyone could be saved.
“Understood.”
As he accepted the harsh truth, Charlotte’s eyes brightened.
She noticed the alliance badge on Jemain’s priestly robes and nodded.
“You’re from the allied forces.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Charlotte mounted her horse.
“Let’s move quickly. To the lord’s castle.”