Darius clenched his jaw. "When... did you poison us...?"
Brandon chuckled darkly, fangs glinting in the moonlight streaming through the shattered windows. "You fools were too comfortable in your little fortress. The food you ate, it was laced with my poison. Everything was planned down to the smallest detail."
"You... coward... using cheap tricks!" Darius spat, wiping blood from his lips.
Gabriel laid a steadying hand on Darius’s shoulder. "Calm yourself. We still have a chance. Support me, I will need your shield."
Darius straightened, eyes fierce. "I’m ready, sir!"
Brandon let out a low growl, his claws flexing. "Surrender now. You’re only prolonging the inevitable."
Gabriel’s eyes blazed with determination as he activated his skill [Titanic Surge]. His muscles swelled, veins bulging as his arms and torso grew to monstrous proportions, his right arm expanding like a living battering ram. He slammed his enormous fist toward Brandon, the impact shaking the floor.
"You’ll have to kill us before we let you have this shelter!" Gabriel roared.
Brandon met the strike with his own savage power, claws slashing against Gabriel’s enlarged limbs. Sparks flew as Darius’s shimmering [Shield Force] barrier flickered to life, deflecting a vicious swipe aimed at Gabriel’s head.
The office turned into a warzone, desks splintered, walls cracked, and stone chips flew as titanic blows landed. Gabriel’s massive fists kept pounding at Brandon, who weaved and countered with lightning-fast claw strikes. The werewolf’s snarls filled the room as he searched for an opening.
Brandon ducked under a swing, raking his claws across Gabriel’s ribs. Gabriel staggered but stayed upright. Darius clenched his teeth, sweat pouring down his face as he reinforced his shield, but every time the barrier flared, he grew paler. The poison was draining him faster with each use.
Brandon’s yellow eyes narrowed. He could sense Darius weakening. With a sudden, brutal burst of speed, he feinted toward Gabriel, then spun, his claws slashing straight for Darius. The shield flickered weakly. Brandon’s claws tore through, sending Darius sprawling with a cry of pain.
"Darius!" Gabriel shouted, swinging a massive fist. But Brandon was faster, he ducked in, claws piercing Gabriel’s shoulder, dark blood spraying the air.
Gabriel dropped to one knee, breathing heavily. His enlarged arm trembled but he forced it up again, glaring defiantly at Brandon.
"You’re... not winning this..." Gabriel rasped.
Brandon hesitated for a moment, surprised by Gabriel’s unbroken resolve. His lips twisted into a cruel smirk. "Let’s end this. Or do you not care if I turn every soul in this shelter into a werewolf?"
Gabriel’s eyes widened. "What... what did you say?"
Brandon’s grin widened, revealing bloodstained fangs. "That’s right. They’re already infected. I tainted every field with my blood. Derrick happily helped, he was sick of using his [Green Cultivation] skill for your orders. With my [Werewolf] skill, anyone who consumes my blood will transform or be infected."
Gabriel’s face turned ashen. "No... don’t tell me...?"
Brandon leaned in, savoring Gabriel’s horror. "Yes. Even if skill users like you are resistant, the others won’t be. And as for the poison that’s killing you now? I got a little help from a friend."
Darius’s eyes flashed with realization and fury. "Cris... it was him... he betrayed us...!"
Brandon threw back his head and laughed, a low, chilling sound. "Everything is perfect. So tell me, Gabriel, do you still want to fight?"
---------×---------
Randoff stood watch under the pale moonlight, the ruins of the city looming dark and silent around their makeshift camp. He glanced over at Rogan, who was kneeling with his eyes shut, his [Hunter’s Eye] skill active as a faint green glow pulsed beneath his eyelids.
"Rogan," Randoff asked quietly, "are there any signs of the five missing members?"
Rogan’s brow furrowed. "Their auras... they’re still there, but faint, like dying embers."
Randoff exhaled heavily. He scanned the exhausted faces of their group as they lay scattered around the camp, wrapped in cloaks and sleeping bags. "We’ll attack once everyone is rested," he decided. "I won’t send them in half-dead. We need our full strength to face those mutated zombies."
He called out softly, organizing shifts for those still awake. "Stay sharp. We rotate every two hours." When his watch came up, he took his place by the flickering lantern.
A few minutes later, he heard footsteps approaching. It was Julian, emerging from the shadows.
"Is it time for the shift change?" Randoff asked.
Julian shook his head slightly. "No. I just couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d take a walk."
Randoff offered a tired smile and patted the stone beside him. "Then sit. Keep an old man company."
Julian accepted, and silence fell over the two men as they listened to the distant wind whistling through the broken city.
After a long pause, Randoff spoke up, his voice low. "Julian... I’m sorry. For trying to force Aya to do something that wasn’t her responsibility."
Julian’s eyes flicked to him, his tone flat but calm. "It’s fine."
Another silence.
"Tell me, Julian," Randoff finally said, his eyes staring at the dark horizon. "Am I wrong... for wanting to act like a hero? To save as many people as I can?"
Julian’s expression softened slightly. "That’s what makes us human. Helping each other, even when it’s hard."
Randoff’s shoulders relaxed a little, as if a weight had lifted. "I just... I don’t want to see more people die."
Julian nodded. "That’s noble. But don’t forget, you can’t save everyone. Sometimes the best we can do is protect the ones we can reach."
The silence returned, more comfortable this time. After a moment, Randoff’s gaze drifted to Julian. "Can I ask you something? About Emma."
Julian turned to him, silent.
Randoff’s eyes glistened faintly in the moonlight. "She... she’s always been strong-willed." He let out a small, sad laugh. "But tell me honestly, Julian... how did my daughter end up falling for a man with so many women around him?"
Julian smirked faintly. "Why don’t you ask your daughter yourself?"
Randoff looked like he wanted to respond, but Julian’s head snapped up sharply, eyes narrowing. He raised a hand, motioning for silence.
"What is it?" Randoff whispered, instantly on alert.
Julian’s voice was low, deadly serious. "They’re coming."
Randoff straightened, eyes scanning the darkness. Then he shouted with a commanding voice, "Everyone! Up now! Prepare for battle!"
Around them, the camp erupted into urgent motion, warriors scrambling for weapons, eyes wide with fear and determination as the sound of shuffling footsteps and guttural snarls rose in the night.
Randoff’s eyes scanned the dark streets beyond their camp, his expression hard. "Something’s off," he muttered. "They’re moving straight toward us... but we set camp well outside their usual territory."
Luke, leaning on his sword, shrugged. "Maybe they got bored and decided to stretch their legs."
Rogan let out a tense chuckle as his [Hunter’s Eye] flickered faintly. "Great. Restless zombies. Just what we needed to liven things up."
Randoff’s voice cut through the dark with authority. "Positions! Everyone, prepare for contact!"
The warriors scrambled, forming defensive lines. Julian’s eyes swept their perimeter, his senses sharp, but something gnawed at him. ’Where’s Cris?’ he thought, eyes narrowing.
Then, from the darkness, shadows began to lurch forward, eight massive, hulking mutated zombies, their twisted forms towering over a swarm of snarling, rotting undead. They surrounded the expedition team on all sides, claws clicking, eyes glowing.
Luke swallowed hard, gripping his weapon. "This is bad... really bad."
"Stop whining," Vivi snapped, her form already blurring as she activated her [Acceleration] skill.
A golden glow spread out as Veronica unleashed her power, her [Enchanters] reinforcing everyone’s bodies and weapons. A shimmering dome of thorny light rose around them as Selena cast her [Thorn Sanctuary], her skill pulsing like a living shield ready to impale any enemy who approached.
The battle exploded into chaos. Julian’s katana flashed like a phantom in the darkness, slashing through zombie after zombie, each step of his [Shadow] skill carrying him across the battlefield with supernatural precision. Clarissa’s telekinetic knives danced through the air, severing limbs and heads with lethal accuracy. Veronica’s buffs let them move with impossible speed and power.
Luke stepped into the fray, his [Mirror] skill reflecting the attacks of a mutated zombie, turning its own crushing blow back against it. Vivi, a blur of motion, zipped between enemies, slicing tendons and throats with surgical strikes. Rogan stayed further back, his rifle spitting precise rounds into the heads of mutated beasts. Selena maintained the sanctuary shield, its glowing thorns impaling any zombie that got too close.
The seven non-skill warriors fought bravely alongside them, using their modified weapons with brutal efficiency, stun batons, electrified blades, and sawed-off shotguns turning rotting flesh to mush.
The mutated zombies roared in fury, their claws tearing into the sanctuary’s thorny walls. Julian seized the moment, Veronica’s power surged through him as he dodged a swipe, sliding into position behind one mutated beast. His katana cut a crescent of darkness as he unleashed his [Shadow Slash], cleaving the monster from shoulder to hip.
Bit by bit, the tide turned in their favor, bodies of twisted undead piling around them. The last mutated zombie staggered under a barrage of combined strikes, Clarissa’s telekinetic knives pinning its limbs before Julian’s blade finished it with a decisive slash.
But just as they caught their breath, a blur lunged from the shadows behind Julian. A dagger gleamed with dripping purple poison, Cris’ dagger.
Julian twisted, trying to dodge, but before he could, Randoff appeared at his side, slamming his armored body into Julian to shield him. The dagger sank deep into Randoff’s side.
"Old fool!" Julian snarled, grabbing Randoff as his legs buckled. He caught the older man before he could fall, eyes wild. "Why did you protect me?!"
Across the battlefield, Cris landed lightly on his feet, his face twisted into a cruel smirk as he wiped his poisoned blade. "What a pity..." he sneered. "My strike missed."