“So, Mark, you’ve been away for a few days, what news do you bring from town? I’ll just assume you guys managed to establish the bridgehead we’ve been talking about or you would have been back days ago,” Cassie looks at the returning hero, quite proud of the achievement the fighters gathered around the farm have accomplished. Pushing back the Undead is no small feat, their mindless nature makes it easy for them to simply keep attacking like the waves breaking upon the shores. Only, the fighters aren’t battle-hardened veterans yet, nor do they have the fortifications used on Mundus to combat such a threat. But they are getting there, just managing to regain a small part of town is progress, it is conclusive proof that the Undead are not endless. They can be beaten.

Sadly, while Cassie’s response to the returning hero is enthusiastic, her fellow councillors already see the unease, the hesitation and apprehension hidden beneath the facade of success. Something has gone wrong, though the lack of visible injuries only makes their worry worse. Injuries, even casualties, can be handled but this? This might be something else.

“Maybe we should continue this in a quiet environment,” Mrs Wu, the eldest of the Council and de-facto leader, suggests, looking at her fellows and the few people who have joined them in welcoming the group of fighters who stayed in town for multiple nights. After a round of nods, the council, with Mark returned to their number, retreat, moving into the space they habitually use as their meeting room. Before the change, it used to be a living space, though sadly, the change caused the various appliances in the room to damage the furniture, leaving it a little dilapidated.

“Now, what bad news do you bring?” Mrs Wu asks once everyone is situated. Cassie looks at the older lady with disbelief before her eyes flicker back to Mark, who looks rather sheepish in response.

“Noticed that, didn’t you? Hopefully, nobody else did or morale will take another dip,” Mark just shakes his head, looking incredibly tired. “Got a visitor last night. Everyone’s favourite Sorceress dropped in, they’ve been fighting those other zombies, these Withered or whatever. Fun fact, did you know that the military once had a dedicated action plan for Zombie Apocalypses?” he asks, catching a few people in the room by surprise. Amusingly, neither Mrs Wu nor Wong Chehai look in any way, shape or form surprised, making it obvious that they already knew.

“Part of that plan was the determination whether the zombies were chemically, magically or biologically created, like, was the outbreak caused by some virus, curse or some drug. Or a fungus, which is what Miss Morgana described those Withered as. She even mentioned that those are likely able to spread, you know, infect people,” he paused, once again, before looking at his fellow councillors with a sardonic grin. “Isn’t that great? We’ve got two different zombie plagues, because a total societal collapse, the destruction of all our tech and ONE zombie invasion wasn’t bad enough, no, it REALLY needed two of those.”

His piece said, he just slumps into the couch he’s sitting on, looking unwilling to move ever again.

“Well, that they are fungal doesn’t change a lot. That they might spread, that’s a problem but let’s be real, unless it’s some sort of airborne infection, it changes little. Cassie, you can deal with diseases, can’t you? You said something along those lines a while back,” Mrs Wu simply continued on, pushing the despair she feels deep down. The people in the area, her people, need a steady leader, they need to see the people they rely on step up and keep things together. Otherwise, someone else will take up the mantle, someone who might not have the skills to lead, or much worse, have bad intentions.

“Yes, there are ceremonies that can help with disease but it’s complicated. It’s a lot easier to deal with something like a simple cold than it is to deal with some magical infection. But I will add a benediction against disease to the prayers I speak over the people leaving, it will hopefully give them the fortitude to withstand those Withered,” Cassie promises, trying to remember the various blessings benedictions and prayers she has experienced on Mundus, contrasting them against the few she has received from Frigg since the change happened.

“There’s more,” Mark softly speaks, sounding as if he would really like to remain quiet but can’t. “Miss Morgana told me that the Withered seem to be getting out of control. Their group has been trying to get into the centre of the area but they are unable to. According to her, it won’t take long for the Withered to become too powerful for her group to fight, at which point they won’t be able to keep them busy if that is even what they do.”

For a moment, silence reigns in the meeting room. Nobody wants to accept that as reality. Morgana, for all her faults, has always been a mysterious but benevolent force to them, a monster, but a monster that’s on their side. Hearing that there are monsters that Morgana and her companions can’t fight against is a scary prospect.

“Did…” Wong Chehai starts, only for his voice to give out, “Did they tell you about the levels involved? Levels aren’t everything but they are a good indicator,” he asks, once he manages to get the words out.

“Thirty plus, to begin with, but quickly heading towards forty and higher,” Mark replies, thinking back to Morgana and the dangerous presence she gives off. Eerie, scary and it’s getting worse. A monster, wrapped in pale flesh, her petite physique, making her look so innocent and harmless, nothing but a horrible misdirection. But their monster, she has to be. They need her to be their monster, or everyone at Apple Gate Farm is in horrible danger. They need her. Their Pale Lady.

But did she need them?

“We will have to make plans,” Mrs Wu shakes her head, knowing that there is little her people can do against foes at that level. Those willing to fight, to step up and protect the community, have made great strides. Everyone has been working hard, both when it comes to practical battles out in the field but also in training.

Those with prior experience in training soldiers for war have taken the old Roman maxim of training being a bloodless battle and battle merely bloody training to the heart, pushing their recruits as hard as possible. In turn, the recruits have made huge, almost impossible, strides, many going from civilian to capable combatant within a month. Progress that would have taken a year or more, achieved in a fraction of that and yet, she knows that it is far from enough. Samantha, maybe the best student she ever had the joy to guide, is far beyond what a normal person could do, not only in talent but in mentality. A ruthless monster, capable of the most horrific acts of violence without batting an eye, but also the one who told them that the Withered need to be contained.

Looks are exchanged and for a few moments, nobody dares to speak. The obvious solution is to leave, to give up this place, just as they have given up the other spaces they have sought shelter in. But how long do they have to run? How often to they have to start anew, how long can they keep their people together? How long before things become untenable and everything breaks apart?

Just a few days ago, they felt major success when the crops they planted breached the soil, thanks to the diligent work of a few Nature Magicians using their magic to provide a plentiful harvest. But as joyful as the celebration of that success was, as hard would it be to pack up, to leave the fields and flee once more.

“We should try setting up fortifications, more than just the fence around the property. If nothing else, a simple ditch with an earth wall should help, maybe with palisades up top. We can’t leave the farm, the people are barely keeping it together as is. But we’ve got time, hopefully, enough time to prepare. It’s not like it was in town, where there are thousands of bodies rising from their graves, there’s an enemy that might march on us,” Mrs Wu explains in a confident voice, sharing her vision with the rest of the council.

“We will not let ourselves be forced away, not without a fight!” her last exclamation is met with equal enthusiasm from the others. But even as she boosts the council’s morale, she quietly makes plans in the back of her mind. Fortifications are a good first step, but she also needs to make sure that the fortifications won’t be their grave. As an American general once said, it is not about dying gloriously for your country, it’s about making sure the other guy dies gloriously for his.

This is not about fighting the Withered in some glorious last stand. It’s about survival. Always.