“With all due respect, captain,” Dietrich began. “If the information we have—”

“I’m sorry, Markus,” Bösch replied. “I understand why you don’t want to go through with this plan, but—”

“Oh, I’m sure you do. You may not care about the lives of your soldiers, but I—”

“We’re continuing with the plan.” Bösch’s voice was hard. “General Krüger himself gave us the order to establish a camp west of Dijon, and I put my full faith in him.”

“General Krüger hasn’t even told us who we’re fighting. I can’t see the French attacking us when their capital is still struggling to survive a plague after six months.”

“The French aren’t attacking us.” Bösch removed a set of papers from his jacket and handed them to Dietrich, who read them by torchlight. Bösch sighed. “Well, not technically the French. As you so aptly put it, the French have their own problems. And we have reason to believe those problems are not going to stay in France. General Krüger has intelligence that says Catholic French revolutionaries have gained control of Paris over the past six months, and they intend to expand their newfound territory.”

Dietrich flipped through the papers, scanning their contents, his face getting angrier with each page read. “So the disease was just a cover? When were you planning to tell me this? How long has Krüger known—”

“How long we’ve known is irrelevant, and I planned to explain everything at the right time. I’m not supposed to be telling anyone about this, but I’m not comfortable putting my soldiers in a disadvantageous position by withholding information from them.”

“Disadvantageous position? We’re piling all our supplies in the middle of a field when a perfectly defensible town is half a kilometer away!”

“Our soldiers are well trained. General Krüger has been developing this plan for some time. All of this is merely a precaution; we don’t want anything to happen to the civilians or their town. Our intelligence says that there should only be a platoon of revolutionaries. The odds are in our favor, lieutenant. If everything goes according to plan, we should be finished before lunchtime.”

Dietrich was fuming. “I’ve heard the stories about you, captain, but after all the time I’ve been working under you, I thought you had changed. But it turns out that you’re still just Krüger’s dog, you—”

“That’s enough, Markus. I don’t give a damn about what Krüger thinks, but I know that he knows what he’s doing. My priority is to protect the civilians and my men. I don’t give a damn about the Empire or French politics, but I do give a damn about the innocent people I have been assigned to protect, and I intend—”

A commotion began to break out along the line of defences. A voice rang out above the others. “Captain Bösch! Captain, the scout is coming back!”

Bösch turned towards the commotion. “Get ready,” he said as he made his way to greet the scout.

“W-W-What was that about?” Wagner asked. “W-W-Why were they t-t-talking about Catholic revolutionaries.”

Sauer smiled, despite the news. There had been an orthodox reason behind everything. He had been foolish to take conspiracy theories at face value. “French Catholics and Huguenots have been fighting for some time now, and it seems the Catholics have gained the upper hand.”

“W-W-What did he mean when he said they g-g-gained control of Paris?”

“Perhaps the Catholics spread the plague to incapacitate the capital,” Gladisch replied. “Then took it over while it was weakened.”

“B-B-But why would French revolutionaries w-w-want to expand into the E-E-Empire’s territory before—”

A single shot rang through the countryside.

They paused, turning towards the direction of the shot.

Silence.

Then, a single wet scream that reminded Sauer of a drowning animal rang out. Then, another. And another. New screams rang out until a chorus of them echoed over the countryside. They were surrounded. For a terrifying moment, Sauer questioned his conclusion; perhaps they weren’t surrounded by French revolutionaries. But then another question presented itself.

Who, exactly, were they surrounded by?

The screams died out, one by one, returning the countryside to a piercing silence.

“W-W-What...” Wagner was shaking. “W-W-What w-w-was th-th-that?”

“I have never heard anything like that before,” Gladisch said, an uncharacteristic edge to her voice. “That did not sound like the French.”

“Are… we u-u-under a-a-attack?”

Sauer stood in silence.

Behind them, the sun rose. To the south, the Ouche river rambled peacefully through the French countryside.

The soldiers were silent. They remained silent for a moment, watching as the dead body of an Empire scout was reanimated by a black mass and moved into the shadow of a tree.

The soldiers began to move again when more creatures began to emerge from the forest, moving steadily towards them.

Sauer, Wagner, and Gladisch could not see what was going on, their view blocked by the company of soldiers and villagers in front of them.

Wagner was whimpering, shaking so hard that his teeth clattered together. Gladisch frowned, looking towards the commotion as if the noise was only a mild inconvenience. Sauer stood confused as the commotion transpired around him, his heart beating hard in his chest.

The soldiers began to shout over each other as they readied their muskets. The weaponless French villagers began to retreat towards the safety of Dijon’s walls, causing some Empire soldiers to follow. A few soldiers stood motionless in fear as they watched the monsters advance.

A booming voice rang out with the practiced confidence of a man worthy of the title captain. “WITHDRAW TO THE WALLS OF DIJON. I REPEAT, MAKE A STRATEGIC WITHDRAWAL TO THE WALLS OF DIJON. RETREAT!” Some soldiers turned and ran, while others continued to fire at the monsters emerging from the forest.

Despite his fear, Sauer could not help but feel a sense of duty. This is what he was brought here to do. He felt the journal weighing down his breast pocket, and he knew what he should do. “I should see what is going on. I should document this.”

“How do you plan to do that,” Gladisch said. The edge was still in her voice, though her face was stern.

“A-A-Are y-y-you in-in-insane?” It was difficult to understand Wagner through his violent stutter. “Y-Y-You’re g-g-going t-t-to d-d-die if y-y-you g-g-go up th-th-there! Wh-Wh-Whatever’s a-a-attacking us i-i-is g-g-going t-t-to k-k-kill you, k-k-kill e-e-everyone h-h-here! W-W-We sh-sh-should’ve n-n-never c-c-came o-o-out here, w-w-we sh-sh-should b-b-be re-re-retreating to D-D-Dijon’s w-w-walls!”

“This is what we were hired to do,” Sauer replied, tales of the living dead spiraling through his head. “If the rumors are true…”

“Th-Th-This is n-n-no t-t-time to w-w-worry about y-y-your j-j-job, T-T-Thomas S-S-Sauer! Y-Y-You are g-g-going t-t-to g-g-get y-y-yourself k-k-killed!”

“I will go with you,” Gladisch said. “On one condition. We retreat at the first sign of danger.”

Wagner looked dumbfounded. “T-T-The f-f-first s-s-sign of d-d-danger w-w-was C-C-Captain B-B-Bösch c-c-calling f-f-for a r-r-retreat!”

“Thank you, Gladisch,” Sauer said, ignoring Wagner’s pleas. “We should go before the situation gets worse.”

Gladisch nodded.

“P-P-Please d-d-don’t do th-th-this! Th-Th-This i-i-isn’t worth d-d-dying f-f-for!” Wagner called as Sauer and Gladisch made their way to the defences.