Karl stood before the glass, his hands resting behind his back.
Behind him stood several figures draped in white robes—the Shepherds of the Broken Order.
One of the white-robed figures stepped forward, his eyes locked onto Ayomide’s reflection in the glass.
“And the bearer of the Broken Cycle Ring…?” Karl didn’t turn around.
“The bearer of the ring dies.” The Shepherd hesitated.
“Will the survivors really be enough if we reduce their numbers?
The Four Monarchs stand at the Transcendent level.
Even our Executioners are only at the Master and Sovereign tiers…
with you as the sole Saint among us.
These heroes are barely at the Initial level.
Even in two weeks, the best might only touch Elite.” “Enough must be enough,” Karl answered calmly.
Another Shepherd gritted his teeth.
“Too many men have already died to the female Monarchs.” “Even the outer territories changed because of it,” another voice added from the back.
“Polygamy became common just to keep the bloodlines alive.” “Let the bridge filter them,” Karl cut in softly, his tone flat.
“If they cannot survive an ancient guardian, they are useless to us anyway.” The hall fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.
Karl’s eyes remained fixed on the projection, his voice dropping into a quiet, unwavering whisper.
“For my daughter…
I will do whatever is necessary.” Down in the ruined city, the ground shuddered.
“Keep moving!” Miss Grace ordered, her voice carrying over the rattle of breaking stone.
“Don’t stop!
Fight while falling back!” The survivors ran down the crumbling street as raspy voices chased them from every alley.
“Kill…” “Kill…” At the rear, Miss Grace stayed behind, buying time alone.
An undead lunged toward a lagging girl.
Bang!
Miss Grace’s front kick slammed into its stomach, folding the corpse in half.
She spun on her heel.
Wham!
A heel kick shattered its temple, sending the head rolling across the road.
Another corpse charged from her flank.
She pivoted, driving her knee straight into its face.
Crack!
Its nose collapsed.
She grabbed its arm, twisted her hips, and threw it over her shoulder, crashing it into three others behind it.
“Keep moving!
Don’t look back!” Near the middle, Godwin raised his Hero Sword, his blade flashing in clean arcs.
Crack!
Crack!
He cut down three undead in a row, his breathing heavy.
“They’re too many…
There’s no end to them!” Beside him, Daniel activated Eye of Truth.
His vision blurred slightly as faint blue lines mapped the battlefield.
“Left,” Daniel said sharply.
Godwin swung instantly.
Slash!
Another head fell.
“Behind!” Emma turned, releasing Holy Light from her palm.
White glare exploded, scorching the lunging corpse before a nearby student cut its head off.
Emma quickly pressed her glowing hand against a bitten boy’s arm, closing the wound.
“It’s closed,” Emma panted.
“Keep moving!” Further left, Maxwell cracked his knuckles.
“Hmph.
You people don’t learn, abi?
Then take more!” Lightning crackled over his fists.
Boom!
A single punch crushed a corpse’s skull.
Beside him, Victor’s wind blades sliced through two more, while John roared, dark fur covering his arms as his Beast Authority took over.
He grabbed an undead by the neck and threw it straight into a group.
Wisdom raised his hand, pulling sharp crystal spikes from the pavement to impale three charging targets.
Maxwell’s squad pushed forward without slowing down.
On the right flank, Ayomide’s group formed a tight pocket.
Crack!
Ayomide’s rusted iron sword cleaved another head off, the blade groaning under the impact.
“Omo…” Tunde muttered, looking at the weapon.
“This thing don almost retire.” Tunde raised his hands, shaping his fingers into handguns.
“Pew.” BOOM!
An invisible blast of kinetic force launched an undead backward into a wall.
He grinned, executing one quick waist twist while aiming left.
“Pew!” Kemi shook her head.
“Omo…
this guy.” “Focus, abeg,” Ayomide muttered, swinging his rusted blade.
A corpse swung a broken iron spear toward Adesewa’s neck.
She tilted her head slightly, letting the rusty point miss her completely.
Bang!
Her fist struck its throat.
Before it fell, she stepped forward again, driving another punch into its neck.
Crack!
She stepped past the collapsing body without pausing.
Ayomide shook his head.
“I still no understand how person go fit use fist win against weapon.” Adesewa simply shrugged.
Behind them, Zara gasped for air, her legs burning as she stumbled over broken stone.
“…I can’t…” she whimpered.
“…I can’t keep up…” Then she remembered Ayomide’s words from earlier.
If you keep running…
you’ll die tired.
Her eyes dropped to a rusted iron spear lying beside a skeleton.
She hesitated for a second, then picked it up with trembling hands.
An undead noticed her.
“Kill…” It rushed forward.
Zara froze.
Then…
her ears twitched.
She heard the soft scrape of boots on stone coming from her blind spot on the right.
She ducked sideways on instinct.
Whoosh!
A rotten hand missed her face by inches.
She hadn’t seen it, but she had heard it coming.
The corpse in front of her lunged again.
Screaming in panic, Zara thrust the spear forward with both hands.
Crack!
The rusted point pierced through its chest.
But the undead kept walking down the shaft toward her.
Zara’s face went white.
“It…
it didn’t stop!” Slash!
Ayomide stepped in, severing its head in a single stroke.
The headless body collapsed onto her spear.
Ayomide didn’t stop moving.
“Next time, aim for the head.” Zara stared at his back.
Her grip on the iron shaft became firmer.
Further back, Success walked beside Emma.
The controlled undead marched rigidly by her side, its milky eyes staring straight ahead.
“…Follow,” Success whispered softly.
The corpse immediately matched her stride.
Suddenly, a stray undead leaped toward Emma.
Before anyone else could move, the corpse beside Success stepped in, throwing its weight into the attacker.
Crash!
The two bodies tumbled into the dirt.
Emma looked at Success, then at the corpse protecting them.
“…Your power…
you can control them.” Success lowered her head, clutching her hands together.
Nearby students quietly stepped farther away from her.
Nobody called her evil, but their eyes were filled with uncomfortable silence.
Ahead, the massive stone bridge came into view.
“We’re almost there!” someone yelled.
“Keep pushing!” Suddenly, Daniel’s eyes narrowed behind the blue haze of his Authority.
“…Wait.” The undead were stopping.
No one moved.
Hundreds of empty, grey eyes slowly turned away from the students, looking back toward the main avenue.
Even the wind seemed to disappear.
Clang…
Clang…
Clang…
Heavy, rhythmic footsteps echoed through the dead silence.
Four figures walked out from between the broken archways.
They weren’t rotting like the others.
Their movements were steady and deliberate.
The leader wore ancient steel armor, a cracked helmet hiding its face, a long katana resting in its hand.
Beside it stood a figure in faded martial robes with cloth-wrapped hands, a giant carrying a rusted war-axe, and an old archer with a heavy bow.
Daniel’s expression darkened.
“…These aren’t ordinary undead.” Godwin tightened his grip on his Hero Sword.
“They move like trained soldiers.” Miss Grace exhaled slowly.
“…Everyone.
Don’t underestimate them.” The four ancient warriors didn’t charge blindly.
They stood in formation, watching the survivors like experienced soldiers.
The swordmaster slowly raised its weapon.
Behind them, the entire army screamed together.
“KILL!” The horde charged again, driving the survivors into a desperate sprint toward the bridge ramp.
Thirty meters…
Twenty…
Ten…
“We made it!” someone shouted.
Then…
everyone stopped.
Standing in the middle of the bridge was a lone figure blocking the path.
It wore jet-black armor untouched by time, with a massive broadsword buried into the stone before it.
Its hands rested on the hilt, its head lowered in complete silence.
Miss Grace raised her arm.
“…Stop.
All of you.” Nobody moved.
Nobody dared to take another step.
Very slowly, the armored warrior lifted its head.
Two crimson eyes flickered to life beneath the broken visor.
Krrrrrr…
The massive blade slid out of the ancient stone.
And on that bridge…
The survivors finally understood what true despair looked like.