Part 1

My body felt extremely cold as I began to snap out of the drowsiness filling the insides of my head. The tiredness and pain in my legs had dissipated quite a bit but that stinging feeling was hard to completely repel. In hopes of getting rid of it, I moved my body but I could only feel the painful numbness of my butt being sat on a hard surface for too long.

“...ake…up…” Said a voice coming from far away yet whispering in my ears.

I ignored it, thinking nothing of it but a fruit of my still drowsy mind. My heavy eyelids began to slowly rise. Too slow, apparently, for the voice calling me which, upon exhausting its patience, hit me with a sound slap across my face. My ears rang as the sound of my teeth hitting each other shook my whole brain.

“Wake up you bastard!” Shouted Lucas with his face close enough to mine for me to see the insides of his mouth.

I jumped on my feet, instantly, as if it was an instinct, and hit my head on the wall behind me in the process. With eyes wide open I looked around me. I calmed down only after realizing where I was. Familiar faces were together with unfamiliar ones. Then, I recalled the events that had occurred before that moment.

The clearer memory was that of the furious sprint our group made to reach the gate of a big mansion being held by some men. I remembered them quoting the word “Migur”. The rest was all fuzzy but I clearly remembered a man with a thick beard that covered the lower half of his face. Much like the representation of a spartan warrior. He also had a red scar going from the top-right side of his forehead to the bridge of his nose. I was sure he had told me his name but I could not recall it.

After being led inside the mansion I found it to be overcrowded with people. Common people. Kids, women, the elderly and men who could not fight filled the corners of the walls and the rough tables. The looks in their eyes were that of despair. Their tired expressions gave me a hint of the difficult conditions those people were now forced to live in. After the main room, we were led to a higher floor, still crowded with people though this time, injured were in the midst of them. Tons of injured and crippled. Those who had just lost an arm, a leg, an eye. We walked through that crowd, pushing our way through the endless families around their injured kin until we ended up in a room bigger than the rest where many people were resting on makeshift sleeping bags and blankets. We were given food, drinks and a set of those rugged blankets made out of old clothes and scraps of cloth. Those of us who were injured were led to another room while the rest of us stayed there. It didn’t take long for me to drown in my tiredness and doze off into the meanders of my sleep.

“Shit…-” I said finally standing up with the help of my brother’s shoulder “- My head’s killing me”

“Says the man who’s been sleeping for five hours straight-” Loudly laughed Lucas as he lightly tapped my shoulders “-... are you feeling better at least?”

“Are you worried about me?” I asked with a smirk full of mockery.

“Oh shut up! You know what I mean! Plus…the situation’s not that great honestly” Replied Lucas while leading me out of the crowded room. His expression now showing hints of uneasiness.

“Is something wrong?” I questioned, now dropping the light and mocking tone in order to match my brother's mood.

“Well, that’s…-” Tried to reply my brother before being interrupted by a rough yet authoritarian voice coming from in front of us.

“- Please, let me be the one to explain this, sir Lucas” Said the man now standing in front of us.

[Sir?]

He was tall. With a robust build and two wide shoulders carrying a long cape made of grey fur. His square face had the facial features of a seasoned warrior, strong and sharp eyes that seemed to look through what was in plain sight, a scar that crossed his forehead, an unkempt beard spanning five centimeters away from his face, a slightly crooked nose and a fresh cut over his upper lip. He was looking at me as if to scan me. Clearly searching for something. He was wearing roughed-up iron-plated leather armor with iron arm-guards, thigh-guards and reinforced leather boots. Hanging from the large black leather belt on his hip was an ax on one side and two daggers on the other.

“It’s not our first time meeting but I could only greet you now, you were too spent up to have a conversation and fell asleep as soon as we gave you blankets” Said the man as he moved the locks of brown and grey hairs away from his forehead.

“Yes, about that, I’m very thankful for your hospitality but there’s something I’m wondering”

“I’m all ears” Said the man, heightening the scrutinizing look on his face.

“I take it you are the boss here, no? I see you’ve got your hands full with the people here, both those who fight and those who don’t. Taking in five people in this situation is not something to scoff off as nothing…What I’m trying to say is that I don’t believe someone would just take us in on a whim so…what’s the cost?” I said, subtly reaching for the dagger still hidden under my clothes.

“What if there wasn’t a cost? Don’t you think you’re judging too quickly? I may have done that out of the goodness of my heart” Replied the bearded man with a spark of fire in his light green eyes after bringing his face close to mine to the point where our noses almost touched.

“...I don’t believe in baseless goodness. While I don’t doubt your reasons are good, I know that free help doesn’t exist. So I ask again-” I said, pushing the wide man away by his shoulders “- what’s the price for your help?”

“Mhhm mhhm-” replied the man while scratching his beard after a long pause of silence “- You are just like your brother told me though, instead of his vague words, I know the perfect word: cold…It’s sad to see someone so young already knowing how this shitty world works…I’m Robert Wulf, self-elected leader of this group of survivors. Follow me, we have much to talk”

It was only after following him into a room, slightly bigger than the others, on the third and last floor of the mansion that we began talking. He sat down on a wooden chair behind a long table full of maps and countless sheets of paper. he offered us a drink after grabbing a half-empty bottle of rum from under the table, hinting us to sit as well. My rejection of the drink seemed to offset him but I had sworn myself not to touch alcohol ever again, not after what I did in my previous life. Instead, Lucas seemed eager to enjoy a full glass of that bronze-like liquid.

“*Puahh* All right!-” Said the man loudly after gulping down the whole glass without even flinching “- I bet you have tons of questions and I’ll answer them, just after I’ve explained a couple of things. This mansion… this refuge, currently holds precisely 168 residents, including you two and your group. We are mostly people from Migur west who got struck by that earthquake or whatever that was… I saw, with my own two eyes, people, my people, my fellow citizens, dropping like leaves in autumn after entering this dungeon….I’m sure your story is quite similar. Found yourself in a cave, walked through the tunnels and felt relieved after finding this city…thinking that other survivors may be here…-” Robert’s face turned into a grimace of pain. Unable to both hide it and continue with his story, the man poured another glass full of rum and drank it down in one breath before continuing speaking with his beard still wet with liquor “- Truth is, this cursed ruined city is fucking hell. There was another group of people here, before we came out of our tunnel…Bastards thought it better to fight us humans instead of those damned skellies. Many of us died just as we killed many of them…but I’m digressing. What I wanted to tell you is that, while I now know you guys’ worth thanks to your brother, I would have kept you around even if you were just a bum. You can believe it or not, I don’t really care but now that I know how much you value I just have to put a price on my help, for the people here, you understand?”

“I’m guessing it has to do with the undead approaching, right?” I asked right away.

“Did your brother already explain?” Asked Robert surprised.

“No, I just heard a man talking about it in the hallway. So, am I right?”

“Yes. Truth is, I need your help. I heard how you two rank in swordsmanship and magic. The people here could fight against the incoming horde but I can safely bet that half of them would be joining the horde by the end of the night”

[I don’t like this…he may be trying to tie me down to his group. I don’t know how much Lucas talked about us. This idiot! I told him not to speak about it to anyone yet he just goes on and opens his god damned mouth!... Tch, I’d have to fight the undead anyway, at least I’ll have someone watching my shoulders]

“...I’ll need a sword” I said after a pause of silence.

The look on Robert’s face seemed to soften, as if a heavy weight was just dropped off of him. He laid comfortably on his chair unlike his previous still position and sighed in relief.

“Thank the gods you’ll help us!”

“I don’t see how the gods would have anything to do with this” I said for no reason other than spite. I wasn’t sure of it myself, but whenever the gods were mentioned, a slight sense of hate swole in a corner of my heart.

“What else can poor souls like us do other than pray in this cursed place?-” Asked the man in a rhetorical way “- In any case, I’ll give words to the guys below to give you a sword, just don’t expect anything fancy. I’d say calling a weapon yours is a luxury down here!”

“Sorry Mr. Wulf but, how much time do we have until the horde hits the mansion?” Asked Lucas who kept himself silent for the whole conversation since now.

“One hour at best-” Replied Robert scornfully as he grabbed a set of maps from a basket under his chair “- The guys keeping watch on ‘em say there’s about a hundred of those undead. It’s far more than usual, probably because of the stunt you guys pulled this morning”

“And how many of you can fight?” I asked, trying to gather as many details on the situation as possible.

“Fifty at best I’d say. Some of ‘em are scared to death after fighting those beings once…who could blame them? The little shits won’t die unless you rip ‘em to pieces. Blasted things!”

The conversation kept on going for about half an hour. Most of that time was spent with our eyes glued to the maps while thinking of ways to repel that horde without suffering too many casualties. In the end, the only strategy was to fight the horde face to face, as far away from the mansion as possible. Thirty people were chosen to fight the horde head-on while ten would hide in the nearby ruins and hit the horde with arrows. The remaining ten would stay behind and protect the non-combatants. Luckily I wasn’t the only mage. One more man, a fifty-year-old man named Dimmel was also among those who were going to fight against the horde. Though he was only a third-tier, having someone else who could cast spells meant having a huge burden lifted off my shoulders.

“SIR!-” Shouted a guard rushing into the room with a heavy breath and sweat covering his face “- One of the scouts came back. The undead are coming! We’ve got less than twenty minutes!”

“Shit!-” The fist that hammered the table remarked how bothered by the news Robert was “- Good job…Now go rest and take your position with the others. And you two…well, you do your thing. I really don’t care how you do it but get us out of this situation today and I swear on my name I’ll answer to your every question. I’ll see you on the battlefield”

With those words, Robert stood up in all his height and hurriedly left the room, bringing with him a couple of maps and a stack of papers. I stood up too and patted my brother’s shoulder, giving him my farewells before the incoming battle, before descending downstairs into the warehouse where those who were getting ready to fight were frantically running around. I talked to the guy in charge of it and got a short sword with a sheath. Then, slowly, I walked out of the mansion and traveled through the wide road covered in rubble and charred corpses only to end up sitting on a broken-down column. I took a sip of water and chewed on a piece of dried meat given me by one of the supposed nurses, waiting for the horde to show itself.

Part 2

My brother was sitting beside me, wearing an iron chest plate and arm guards over his shirt. Around us, the troops of fighters had gathered and were starting to be dispatched into formations under the orders of Robert Wulf and his righthand man, a short guy nicknamed Goblin. Surprisingly I wasn’t feeling tense or excited. It may have been due to my mana still lacking but I just felt nauseous. All I wanted was for the undead to just disappear and leave me to sleep in peace. [The sooner they were gone, the better] I thought to myself, watching all those armed men running around like laborious ants. It was in the midst of that boredom that the horde finally appeared.

Their entrance had been announced by the last one of the scouts, running at full speed and waving his arms in the air while screaming of the incoming wave. A cloud of dusty smoke appeared from the top of some nearby ruins. No more than 300 meters separated our group from the wave of monsters lusting after our lives. As soon as that smoke appeared I patted my own knees as an old man does when standing up and stretched my hand towards my brother.

“Shall we go?” I asked, unknowingly curling my lips in a slight smile as I saw the lack of fear and tenseness in his eyes.

“Yeah-” replied my brother after grabbing hold of my hand “- Let’s go!”

Together, side by side like two brothers would, we walked through the armed men towards the front row. Some were cowering in fear, others seemed to have blocked whatever emotion was left in them, virtually becoming just a tool in the hands of their commander.

“Done preparing?” Asked Robert once we settled by his and Goblin’s side.

“Not much to do as you can see” I said while pointing at the lack of armor on my body.

“I wonder if you are a fool, cocky or just outright strong enough not to need any armor”

“Couldn’t it be all three together?” I asked with a smirk.

“Sly asshole…by the way, I took a look at you guys’ bags once you came in the mansion and, ‘gotta ask, what’s the deal with that horn you got in your bag?” Asked in reply the man. A curious look beaming in his tired eyes.

“A fiend’s horn. I killed one some years ago and took the horns as trophies. I had two but I lost the other one when I fell into this dungeon…A shame I can’t find a use for it” I replied thinking nothing of it and forgetting how the people used to view the fiends.

“Are you saying that a brat who didn’t even stop sucking on his momma’s tits was able to kill a fiend!? HAHAHA! I haven’t laughed this hard since I came down here!”

“Don’t believe me then. It’s you who asked”

“Fuck HAHAHA! Now you really made me curious! If you can demonstrate that you really are able to kill a fiend then I’ll turn that horn of yours into a masterpiece! You know, I used to work as a woodworker before…well, before all this” Hugging my shoulders in an overly friendly way.

“Then just watch-” I said escaping from his hug while pointing to the wave of undead picking up speed not far away from us “- Brother?”

“Let’s get this party started!” Shouted my brother while unsheathing his sword and getting into his fighting stance with his center of gravity lowered and the sword held firmly in front of him with both hands.

Two hundred meters. Then a hundred…fifty…twenty. Then, finally, our two forces clashed. Zombies and skeletons mixed together brutishly swingled their arms and weapons like beasts driven by instinct. In return, the people on our side swung their weapons with the brutality of someone who clings to their life with every single ounce of strength they have. All I could see around me was desperation.

[Is this how war looks?] I wondered as I saw the light of life leaving a man’s eyes as his neck got torn off by two zombies.

“...I hate this…” I said as the sharp edge of my sword passed through the rotting flesh of a zombie, tearing apart it’s legs from it’s torso.

I watched in silence as the zombie wearing an iron helmet and a leather chest piece crawled beneath my feet. It was without disgust or remorse that I struck its heart with the tip of my sword, killing it for good. I rose my eyes and looked at the sheer number of opponents in front of us.

The fighters from inside the ruins were shooting arrows and throwing rocks like automated machines while those on the ground kept fighting with their lives constantly on the line, dying and killing monsters over and over. Yet, the difference in numbers seemed to never diminish.

“...I really hate this…” I said again after extracting the sword from the rotting corpse.

Due to my lack of momentum I had fallen behind my brother and Robert quite a bit. I watched their back while walking towards them, swinging my sword whenever an opponent came my way. Most of the time I didn’t even kill. I just left the clean-up to others. Robert’s sword and dagger style was, in a word, beastly. It had no elegance, not that a sword style is ever in need of it. It’s movements were simple yet brutal and precise. He was able to take care of groups of five and more by strategically backing up and charging right back striking with the sword to hinder their movements then finishing their hearts and cores with a precis dagger stab. It wasn’t bad to watch, but my brother's style was much better in my eyes. It was clean, without any useless movement, yet fearsome. With every swing of his sword, an enemy dropped, either dead or just rendered unable to fight. The sheer strength behind every slash was a sight to behold. Like a dancing ballerina pirouetting through a crowd he moved so through his opponents, taking advantage of the zombies and skeletons’ lack of awareness and dexterity.

Yet it wasn’t enough. How many had fallen? Fifty? Maybe more? Still…it wasn’t enough for our numbers to fight back. Simple struggle was never enough.

[Now I get why he was begging me so to fight this battle…it was our fault to begin with]

I kept walking until I reached the first row and stood a couple of meters behind the gap between two fighters. I outstretched my left arm and opened up my palm, letting the stale air carrying the stench of the rotten corpses flow through the gap in my fingers. I delved into myself and summoned that ancient power swelling inside me called mana. Then, it only took a moment. An image generating inside my head connected to a word.

“Updraft” I said in a tone soo calm that, comparing it to the battlefield I was in, where people were getting injured and dying by the minute, gave me the shivers.

In a matter of a split second, a cone of wind rose instantly from the ground up, right in the middle of the enemy lines. Hundreds of undead were instantly lifted off their feet and began levitating as they gathered speed and height. I could feel the stares from the people around me. Only one seemed not to care about my spell, Lucas. He kept on slashing those undead I was unable to include in my spell, being cautious not to step into the zone of influence of “Updraft”.

Only once I was satisfied with the height did I stop the spell. The enemies had now become small dots blending in with the ceiling of the cave. At three hundred meters from the ground, without the support of my spell, they began to fall. They picked up speed…fast. Then two hundred meters. A hundred. And finally, when they were around fifty meters from the ground, I rose my arm to the sky and, mimicking the gesture of crushing something to the ground, I said:

“Pressure crash”

Not only were they falling at an incredible speed but they were now also being pushed down by high-pressured wind, accelerating their fall. The ground crumbled before the undead could even touch it. Such heaviness carried the pressure of the wind I had generated by sacrificing more than half of my mana. The blocks of black stone making up the road turned into rubble. The neon water of the small stream running by the road splashed everywhere uncontrollably. The corpses laying on the ground melted into a puddle of blood and crushed bones. Then, the slam.

With unparalleled speed, the mass of undead exploded into a muddy mix of liquids, covering me and all the people around in a bloody rain. The dust created by the impact spread over our heads, casting ominous shadows over the now silent battlefield.

My face was unrecognizable. Together with the blood completely covering my facial features and most of me, the shadows hid my expression. The only thing the men could recognize was the cold gaze of my blue eyes. Two diamonds of ice shining menacingly with the same coldness an iceberg would show to a sailor. Two balls of light in the midst of a mask of blood. A light that inspired both fear and awe instead of hope.

None but Lucas dared speak a word or move a muscle, only he leisurely walked by my side with the satisfied expression of a father admiring the progress of his talented child. I sheathed my sword and only said: “It’s done” before walking towards the group of fighters, now making way for me and Lucas to pass through.

Choirs of victorious screams rose from the jumping men. The battle was won.

Part 3

- ROBERT WULF’S POV -

I was standing outside of my office, on the balcony. From there, I had a full view of the city, especially the dome towering over everything else around. Below me stood the wide road where, just a couple hours ago, the few fighters of the mansion fought off the biggest wave of undead we had ever come against. Or at least what was left of it. A hole of more than twenty meters in diameter span across the street, telling the story of that battlefield.

“How many more would have died if those two weren't with us today?” I sighed as I poured another glass of the now almost empty bottle of bronze-like liquid.

“We would’ve been lucky if even one of us survived” Said the low-sounding voice, unbefitting of his short stature, of the man I could proudly call my right hand.

“Oh, Goblin!-” I exclaimed in surprise, almost dropping the bottle off my hands “- I didn’t even hear you. How long have you been there?”

“Enough to hear an old man sulking” Smirkly replied the short, bald man.

“Meh…Not much I can do anyway…”

“By the way-” Continued Goblin while grabbing the bottle out of my hands as fast as a dog would steal a treat “- *gulp* Where are those two anyway?”

“Raphael and Lucas? They left around ten minutes ago”

“Where to?”

“The miasma”

“Ah I see, the mias- ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? DID YOU JUST SEND THEM TO THE MIASMA!?” Shouted Goblin now furiously menacing me with the bottle.

“CALM DOWN YOU FUCKER!-” I shouted in response “- I didn’t send them, they went of their own will!”

“What do you mean?” The perplexion on his face was as easy to read as it is a child’s book.

“They stopped here after the battle. They had questions and I answered them… One of them was about the other groups of survivors. I had no choice but to tell them of the sealed cave close to the miasma. They left soon after…Hey Goblin-” I said while looking at the crater formed into the middle of the road “- why do you think they are still here?”

“Why’d you ask? Isn’t it to try and get out of here?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you…You know, they told me they were both fourth-tier in their respective fields but, can you still believe that after seeing today’s battle?” I asked, now turning around to face my friend and pointing the crater with my thumb over my shoulder.

“...”

“...How much do you know about magic and mages?” I continued after a long silence.

“Not much…I was never interested in those freaks and their studies” Scornfully replied the small man clutching his wrist. I knew there was something he was hiding from me but I knew better than to pry further.

“I’ve been an adventurer all my life and I’ve come across my good share of mages. Some crazy, some sane and some just outright psychopaths, but through them, I understood how the world of magic turns. You know the tiers, no? Everyone can reach up until the fourth tier. How soon you reach it just depends on hard work and aptitude. But, do you know what is the requirement to overcome the fourth tier? It’s talent… Something that only a selected few have. Those two have it, and if I’m not wrong, lots of it”

“Then why would they hide it?”

“To be inconspicuous? To not be taken advantage of and tied down to a group? Who knows!-” I said while shrugging my shoulders “- What you should be asking, though, is why are they not making use of that talent to escape this hell…If you had seen their faces when mentioning the other group you would understand. They are looking for someone and I’m sure they won’t leave until they find them…I just hope it won’t be too late” I melancholically said.

“Too late for what?” Worriedly asked my friend.

“Too late for that kid, Raphael, to completely lose the light in his eyes…He is soo young, yet his eyes already look tired and lifeless at times…I pray to the gods above that those they are looking for are safe and sound!” I exclaimed before drowning in one more drink.

- RAPHAEL BLUESCALE’S POV -

The tiles of the roof of the house I was standing on cracked with every step, giving me the uncomfortable sensation of being spied on. Behind me was my brother who carefully watched my every movent. His expression was heavy with sadness and dark thoughts. But who could blame him? After hearing of the other group from Robert I too had difficulties keeping my mind in its right place. We had been silent ever since we left the mansion. Neither of us wanted to interrupt the other’s thoughts, thinking of them in the same situation. But that soon came to an end after Lucas broke it with the question we both kept pondering on.

“Raph…-” Said my brother in an almost apologetic tone “- Do you think they are there…I mean, with the other group…in the tunnels?”

“I…don’t know. I just hope… Nah, I don’t even know what to hope for”

“Me too…Listen, I’ve been wondering about it since before but, is that dark, muddy cloud the miasma Robert was talking about?”

“Yes”

“Well, I know he already explained it but can you tell me what it is?” Asked him without stopping our run on the rooftops around that cloud.

“It’s not like I know much more than you do…Miasma generates whenever undead are involved. You could say it’s some sort of corruption, ok? I know that it can be harmful to humans and other creatures but not to some monsters, like the undead who thrive in it”

“Then, how could the other group traverse it without suffering?”

“Who said they didn’t?...Look” I said while pointing to some ruins and roads below us.

Corpses littered the place. Some were relatively fresh, with the flesh still attached to the limbs, while others were just piles of messy and broken bones. Those corpses, those remnants of humans, were in the process of being brought back to life by that miasma. Seeing it taking place was almost vomit-inducing. Tarnishing a corpse like that, disrespecting the life they lived and forcing them to kill their own kin. It was a fate far, far worse than death and torture, if one were to keep their conscience.

[I hope they are just moving corpses…if there’s a person inside there…inside those things I-]

The thought made me vomit. If there truly were people still living inside those monsters, then what was I if not a mass murderer. I crouched and held my stomach as the images of the hundreds of corpses mashed into a puddle by my magic filled my head. The taste of bile filled my mouth as the meager lunch I had completely escaped the grasp of my stomach, leaving me energyless.

“H-hey Raph, are you ok? What happened?” Asked Lucas worriedly as he crouched together with me.

“I’m fine…It’s just…Nothing, nothing. Don’t worry about it, just the meat hurting my stomach a bit. I really need to eat some vegetables…Let’s keep exploring. We have to find the sealed entrance”

We explored the city until our stomachs began grumbling out of hunger. We had brought papers and ink to trace a map or write down details about our surroundings. During our search, we found two big pieces of information regarding the undead swarming the city. The first one was that most of them came from a huge hole in the middle of the miasma mist. From there, swarms that looked more like disorganized platoons crawled out and dispersed into the city, joining the ranks of the undead born through the sacrifice of the poor citizens who were brought down there by the earthquake. A detail regarding that was that there were some undead that, unlike those who attacked us that day, wore armor.

The second piece was that the vast majority of the undead all walked towards the center of the city and “fell asleep” in some kind of hibernation near the dome as if to protect it. Once a day they would wake up, patrol the zone and try to break in through the walls and windows without succeeding in doing so. Both of us came to the conclusion that, inside the dome, there was something the undead wanted for themselves…or their master.

When we reported that information together with the maps we wrote down, Robert’s eyes seemed to gleam with a glint of hope before going back to the empty decisiveness a second after. He stood silent for more than five minutes, consulting the maps and papers while scratching his unkempt beard.

“We may have a chance!” He finally said after slamming his thick fist onto the table.

“What are you planning?” I asked knowing full well he was talking about a chance to escape. A topic he spoke profusely in the few times we were able to speak both privately and publicly.

“There is a cave system, on the north side, where the stone trees are and a few undead walk around the place. I had some of my scouts explore those caves a week ago. Found out that they lead upwards, someone had even already walked that path and left hints here and there. Something about a gate they said…Those caves are our only option”

“If there’s really an exit that it’s a miracle! But, where’s the trick?” Asked Lucas.

The corner of my lips cracked into a tiny smile. As much as I was proud of his strength, I feared his lack of judgment and easy-going personality, but it seemed like he was breaking out of that “fool’s” shell. I was glad. I found myself thinking that, even if I wasn’t around anymore he would’ve been able to handle the situation. But I soon shook off that thought.

[I’m not going anywhere this time!] I reassured myself.

“The trick is we gotta travel through the whole damned city, meaning that-”

“Meaning that you’ll be fighting undead without rest” I interrupted the bearded man who flinched in displeasure as I marked with my voice the “you”.

“...Yeah-” Said Robert, scanning me with the corner of his eyes “- thanks to the information you brought us we now know not to pass through the boundaries of the miasma. That leaves the dome or the east side…If we were to take the dome route we would shorten the trip, diminishing the possibility of encountering undead but at the same time, we’d be straight-up jumping into a wasp’s nest. The east is safer but it’d take us a whole lot longer, meaning that we’d be facing a shit ton more skellies…So you see, I’m stuck between a rock and a fucking hard place!” Shouted Robert now sticking his black pupils onto mine as if he was trying and find fault in my lack of willingness to help.

“So? Get to the point! What do you want from us?” I shouted in response, slamming both my palms onto the hard wood of Robert’s table. My mana was railing up inside me as to answer to my growing anger.

“I…-” Said Robert before making a long pause of complete silence “- I beg you, please help us!” He continued. His forehead violently slammed onto the table, sending papers all over the place.

“I refuse!” I replied bluntly while standing up and pushing the chair down on the floor.

“RAPH!” Shouted Lucas exasperatedly as he tightly grabbed my wrist to the point where my tendons hurt under his goliardic strength.

I hated how he looked at me as much as I hated the begging position of the man who was supposed to lead my fellow surviving citizens to safety. I hated them both.