One in the afternoon.
Field led his slave-guards into the gray mist. In truth, it was hard to keep any sense of time inside the mist — everything stayed a dull gray, and only at night did it turn into a pitch-black where you couldn't see your own hand. Ashina rode the giant wolf at the very front, clearing the way; a Chosen's eyes seemed to have been remade, able to observe this world more clearly.
Behind her came Field and his newly formed slave-guard, holding a slow pace, struggling forward through woods full of brambles and fleshy tentacles.
"By the map, we'll soon reach Rum Village — a village that once supplied the city with rich stores of vegetables."
"A pity all I can see now is corruption." Ashina shaded her eyes with a hand and peered hard into the distance. "Mm — watch our front-right; seven rotting corpses are gathering. I'd say they're Rum Village's people."
"Let the rookies get some practice."
Seeing how relaxed Ashina looked, Field knew the incoming corpses were small fry — a perfect chance to blood the new recruits.
Hearing this, several recruits swallowed in unison with audible gulps. Instinct told them this was the moment to run, but with the lord right behind them, they didn't dare move a muscle.
Thinking of the smooth, delicious eggs, the guards felt their very souls elevated. Many slaves had lived this long without ever tasting an egg. At noon, more than a few hadn't even bothered to chew, gulping the eggs straight down in their haste; several nearly choked. Even so, they'd felt nothing but joy.
To savor that joy, the slaves were glad to bear it — even at the risk of death.
"Roooar~"
Out of the mist charged a woman like an ancient mummy, not a stitch of clothing on her, withered, revolting breasts sagging to her belly, her whole body slick with slime.
The seasoned slave-guards leveled their halberds and thrust from every direction, pinning the corpse fast.
"Here — stab her head to a pulp, or run her through the chest a few more times. Keep your hands steady; don't let your body sway too much."
Wildcat shared his experience generously, then hauled a recruit — the one whose legs had gone soft — up to face the corpse.
The recruit raised the halberd a few times but simply didn't dare strike; the shrieking corpse even scared him into wetting his trousers.
"It's a d-devil," one recruit said, teeth chattering.
In his past life Field had watched plenty of zombie films, but the slaves hadn't. They believed devils dwelt within the corpses, and one careless slip would get you cursed.
"Strike! Don't be a cowardly quail." Field barked a curse — he couldn't let fear take root, because fear was contagious, and soon more men would see the corpses as devils rather than as creatures that could be killed. "Even if it is a devil — with me and a Chosen here, what the hell are you afraid of?! I'll kill the devil for you all the same!"
"Shunk~"
Berated by Field, the soldier finally jabbed the halberd out — eyes shut, very nearly stabbing crooked and pitching into the corpse's embrace — but he'd taken the first step.
That done, the recruit's legs gave out and he sat down hard on the ground.
"See? Not difficult, and no curse." Field pointed at the body and snapped his fingers breezily. "Keep your distance and they're easier to handle than a dumb fawn."
The other corpses crowded in, and with the first man's example, the rest of the recruits worked up the nerve to attack.
Having dispatched this batch with ease, Field led everyone onward and soon reached the edge of Rum Village.
"What's with these rotting corpses?"
Field watched the skull markers on the little map trembling without pause and scratched his head, puzzled.
Were they doing some kind of little jig?
"Erm... my lord, I can clear out Rum Village's corpses by myself. It's too dangerous up ahead — I'll handle it." Ashina's eyes darted about, and a blush had crept onto her snow-white face from who-knew-when.
The odd look at once stirred Field's curiosity — what exactly had Ashina seen?
"Let's go take a look together." Field rubbed his chin.
"Um, er — fine." Ashina dithered.
When Field saw the scene that detonated before his eyes, he instantly regretted his stubbornness.
A great heap of deformed corpses were out in the fields beyond the village, playing at "making babies"! The scene was sheer chaos.
Even though their "bits" had rotted clean off, they seemed to be going through the motions on pure instinct.
Field was struck speechless, and covered his face, thinking: I really did transmigrate into some H-game world, didn't I?
No wonder the female corpse earlier hadn't even had clothes.
The soldiers were tickled too, hollering and whooping, the once-oppressive mood swept clean away.
"Boom!"
Ashina couldn't take it; she at once directed the dragonkin wolf to purge them with fire.
Space warped; scorching blue flame swallowed most of the twisted shapes, the crackle of bursting bone unending, until they'd all become ash.
Several corpses with only the rough outline of humans came shrieking in from behind.
Hammer reacted at once: his tall frame leaned slightly back, like a bow drawing taut, and the moment a corpse closed in, a shield-bash sent it sprawling. Then came merciless stamping — the fragile chest crushed underfoot — and the corpse went still.
The guards weren't about to be outdone; after all, these staggering corpses were so many walking silver coins.
Under a flurry of jabbing halberds, the unarmored corpses could only leave a string of bodies behind.
"We'll cut into the village together. Mind you don't leave the mist-lamp's range." Field's hands itched, but he carried the all-important lamp, or he'd have liked to chop a couple himself.
"Shunk, shunk~" Corpse after corpse fell in pools of blood.
The guards pressed forward steadily. Field distinctly heard their footsteps begin to fall into time, gathering into a rhythmic thunder — a natural drumbeat. Keep the rhythm, and every man could feel the strength of the collective. The recruits had hung back hesitating, but caught up in the others' momentum, they soon joined the killing.
Soon over half of Rum Village's corpses were dead, rotting bodies everywhere, the stench unbearable.
Field walked to the village center, to a ruined, collapsed well. He set the mist-dispelling lamp there. He'd given the order to rest barely five minutes ago when he noticed a great patch of red skull markers suddenly flooding the little map.
"Careful! There are still monsters here — no, a great many!" Field was about to call a retreat without a word more, but the enemy was terribly fast — several notches quicker even than a trotting horse.
"My lord, run, I saw—" A guard on lookout came sprinting up; he'd barely spat out a few words before Field cut him off.
To leave Rum Village now would mean running straight into the enemy. The urgent thing was to find somewhere to hold.