The lonely bell rolled across the ruined city.
Once.
Twice.
Then again.
It sounded like a funeral bell, carrying over broken streets, empty buildings, and shattered stone.
For one brief moment, the entire city went silent.
Then— Crack.
The ground split open.
Pale, dirt-covered hands forced their way through the ancient stone.
One after another, rotten figures climbed out from beneath the earth.
“Kill…” “Kill…” “Kill…” The dry, raspy voices echoed from every direction.
Panic spread through the survivors.
“They’re everywhere!” “They just keep coming!” By now, every surviving student had awakened a Soul Manifestation or an Authority in the Crystal Hall.
Some knew how to use theirs; others barely understood what they had.
But terror made them freeze.
Miss Grace stepped forward immediately.
“Everyone!
Don’t panic!
Stay together!
Those who can fight, move to the front!” She pointed at an advancing corpse.
“Aim for the head!
If you can’t cut it off, knock it down and let someone else finish it!” Her voice snapped the students back to reality.
Godwin raised his Hero Sword.
Beside him, Daniel tightened his grip on his weapon.
Emma moved toward the non-combatants, soft light gathering around her hands.
The first wave hit.
Godwin swung his glowing blade in a low arc.
Crack!
One undead lost its head and collapsed into dust and rotten cloth.
“So that’s their weakness…” Godwin gritted his teeth, turning to another.
Miss Grace didn’t draw a weapon.
Aether surged through her legs as a corpse lunged toward a student.
She stepped in.
Bang!
A side kick slammed into its ribs, throwing the corpse back.
She closed the distance instantly and spun on her heel.
Wham!
A hook kick snapped its neck.
The head dropped and rolled across the stone.
Another reached for her from behind.
Without turning, she drove her elbow backward into its chest, grabbed its shoulder, twisted its arm, and pulled it off balance.
Bang!
An axe kick smashed into its skull, crushing it into the pavement.
A few students stopped mid-fight, staring.
“…Lecturer…” “…Isn’t that Taekwondo?” “No wonder her kicks felt familiar.” Miss Grace didn’t answer.
Palm strike.
Knee.
Roundhouse kick.
Simple, efficient footwork.
Ayomide smashed a corpse’s jaw with the butt of his weapon.
“Omo…
Our lecturer really hid her talent well.” Tunde let out a breathless laugh, blasting an undead back with invisible force.
“I tell you!
If she taught like this in school before we left home…
I swear nobody go miss class.” A few chuckles broke out, but they died quickly as more pale hands tore out of the dirt.
On Ayomide’s side, a frightened girl ran toward them, stumbling over broken stone.
“Help!” An undead reached for her back.
Shhk!
Kemi’s glowing thread sliced through its neck.
The head thudded onto the road.
The girl fell to her knees, breathing heavily.
“T-thank you…” Ayomide looked at her.
“Who are you?” “…Zara,” she stammered.
“You didn’t awaken any Soul power?” She shook her head.
Another undead climbed over a low wall nearby.
Right next to Zara’s boots lay a discarded, rusted iron spear.
Ayomide pointed at the weapon.
“Pick it.” Zara hesitated, her hands shaking.
“If you keep running, you’ll die tired,” Ayomide said.
Zara swallowed hard and grabbed the cold iron shaft.
“Stay behind us if you want,” Ayomide added, turning back to the fight.
“Nobody is carrying anybody here.
If you want to stay, show me you’re trying.
When one gets close…
stab its head.” Zara gripped the shaft tighter.
“I…
I will.” Not far away, Success stood beside Emma as another dead student crawled from a crack in the stone.
“…No…
Please…
Don’t kill me!” The undead charged.
In pure panic, Success threw her hand out.
“Manifest!” Dark Aether gathered around her fingers.
The advancing undead stopped instantly.
Slowly, its body turned.
It stepped to her side and stood unnaturally still.
It didn’t blink.
Its gray eyes remained fixed on the surrounding space, its head subtly tracking anyone who stepped too close to her.
Everyone nearby froze.
“…Huh?” Success stared at her hand.
“I…
I didn’t…” Emma touched her shoulder gently.
“It’s okay.
I think it answered you.” A few meters back, Ayomide cut down a zombie, his eyes flicking to the lifeless guard beside Success.
An undead…
obeyed her?
He locked the detail away and kept moving.
Another corpse lunged directly at Ayomide’s left flank, snapping its teeth toward his neck.
Ayomide didn’t flinch.
He stepped inside its reach and grabbed it by the throat, his grip locking tight around its neck.
The broken cycle symbol on the ring pulsed once.
“Death doesn’t erase debt,” Ayomide muttered coldly.
He drove his rusted blade straight through its head.
Slash.
“Pay.” Something faint slipped out of the corpse and disappeared into the ring.
Warmth spread through his right arm.
His tired muscles didn’t recover completely, but the dull ache wasn’t as bad anymore.
His grip on the iron hilt became a little steadier.
Ayomide frowned slightly, looking down at his palm.
A few steps away, Daniel activated his Eye of Truth to scan the street.
His eyes caught the dark thread entering Ayomide’s hand.
Daniel frowned.
…Did black Aether just flow into his ring?
He blinked and rubbed his eye.
…No…
maybe I imagined it.
Across the street, Maxwell punched an undead straight through a brick wall.
“Hmph.
Weak.” Beside him, Victor’s wind blades sliced through two targets while John roared, his Beast Authority crushing another.
Maxwell’s team pushed forward without slowing down.
Then…
a scream cut through the noise.
A student was dragged down into a crack by pale hands.
The scream lasted two seconds before cutting off.
Nobody moved.
Blood soaked into the stone.
Then…
Crack.
Fingers emerged.
The same student climbed back out, blood on his torn uniform.
His empty, milky eyes stared blankly at his classmates.
His mouth opened.
“Kill…” The battlefield went dead silent.
“…He came back…” someone whispered.
“…That’s not him anymore!” Ayomide stepped forward and swung his blade in a clean arc.
One slash.
The undead’s head fell.
Ayomide paused for a second, feeling the weapon in his hand.
…Was the sword lighter…
or was he stronger?
Daniel watched from a high mound of rubble.
“…The city…
it’s rebuilding its own army.” Miss Grace looked around.
Undead were appearing faster than they could destroy them.
She clenched her fist.
“…We can’t stay here!
We’ll be overwhelmed!” She pointed toward the massive stone bridges across the ruins.
“Everyone!
Head for the bridges!
Fight while retreating!” The survivors formed a tight ring, falling back step-by-step toward the bridges.
Far above them…
Across the endless ruins, an ancient throne overlooked the battlefield.
A silent figure sat upon it in the shadows, unmoving like stone.
Watching.
Waiting.
Then…
Very slowly…
One long finger tapped against the armrest.