CHAPTER 51: DECISION TO LEAVE

"Something’s going on outside?!" one of the students cried out, their voice trembling as they watched Merek burst into the living room, trailed by the other fighters.

"We’re leaving!" Merek snapped without pausing, striding toward the exit.

But the door didn’t budge, not because it was locked, but because a frantic crowd had gathered on the other side.

Students from the third house, now under siege, and others from the first, overwhelmed by fear, had barricaded the entrance. They slammed against the door, pounded the windows, yelling and pleading to be let in. Some had even begun climbing in through the side windows, desperate to escape the unknown horror outside.

Merek’s jaw clenched. "Get out of the way!" he shouted, yanking his pistol from its holster and pointing it at the window frame, not to shoot but to warn. "Move!"

Panic and terror had driven these people mad. In their desperation to survive, they were trapping the very fighters meant to protect them.

Yuki’s eyes glowed as she surged forward. The floorboards groaned under her acceleration, and she slammed her armored shoulder into the door. It burst open with a violent crack, hurling several students backward onto the ground with startled cries.

Without missing a beat, Merek emerged into the open, flanked by Tevin, Fred, and Nero. Merek’s crossbow hung across his back as he raised a hand, his mind picturing a colossal invisible fist sweeping across the street.

A dozen of the massive mosquitoes diving toward them were swatted mid-air by an unseen force, their bodies smashing into the asphalt with sickening cracks. Blood splattered across the pavement like paint flung from a bucket.

"Go!" Merek barked.

Nero hurled fireball after fireball into the night sky, the explosions briefly illuminating the chaos as mosquitoes erupted in flames. Tevin moved like a juggernaut, his spear impaling anything that flitted too close. Beside him, Fred roared, swinging his bat like a sledgehammer, turning mosquitoes into pulp.

Behind them, four male students carried Professor David on their shoulders, navigating the chaos with grim urgency. Felicity limped beside them, her blades slashing in every direction, warding off any mosquito that slipped through the front line. Even with her wounded ankle, she refused to slow down.

They fled, not toward the forest, but deeper into the town, into the shadows and ruins where the roads bent unpredictably, buildings stood half-collapsed, and safety was merely relative.

As Merek fought, he noticed something troubling. There were too many mosquitoes. Their numbers weren’t just increasing, they were focusing specifically on them. First came speed. Now, came the swarm.

One of them darted low, past Nero’s flame, faster than expected, aiming directly for his skull.

But before it could strike, an armored hand shot out from nowhere, clamping down on the mosquito’s body.

Crunch!

The creature’s blood sprayed from the gaps in the gauntlet as the Vulture undead crushed it effortlessly. Nero turned, startled, his heart racing.

Two Vultures had appeared, slipping through the street with brutal elegance. Their blades danced through the air, severing wings and splitting chitin. Unlike humans, they had no fear, no blood to be drained. Against the mosquito swarm, they were the true predators.

As the attention of the insects shifted to the undead, Merek’s hands rose again. His mind gripped the swarm like a net, dragging them into a massive, swirling ball of wings, legs, and glinting red eyes. Then he squeezed.

Carapaces snapped. Blood exploded in all directions. A hundred mosquitoes died in an instant, crushed into a pulpy, compact sphere that fell to the ground with a hollow thud.

Fred stared at the mass of blackened insect corpses. His fists trembled. If he had been alone, he’d have been torn apart before getting a single swing in.

Tevin looked ahead, his voice low with dread. "They killed five people."

Merek followed his gaze. On the roadside and within the corridor of the third building, five mummified corpses lay slumped in grotesque positions, their faces sunken and limbs shriveled, drained entirely of blood. The sight was enough to hush even the wind.

Merek lifted his gaze toward the colossal tree looming deep within the forest. Even in the black of night, its pale white leaves shimmered faintly, casting a ghostly glow over the foliage around it. For a moment, he simply stared, but then something shifted in the air.

He felt it.

Death energy.

It wasn’t faint or fleeting. It pulsed, subtle but undeniable. Whether it seeped from the tree itself or from something beneath its roots, Merek couldn’t tell. But the weight of it told him one thing for certain: there were souls there. Many souls.

Or a very powerful one.

His breath slowed, his heartbeat deepened. The pull was almost magnetic. If the souls were real, not only could he bolster his undead ranks, but he might be able to evolve his Job to the next tier.

A hand gesture snapped him out of the trance.

"Merek!" Tevin hissed, his voice low but urgent. He was waving from a distance, motioning for him to retreat with the group.

Merek exhaled through his nose, giving the glowing tree one last glance before turning and jogging after them. The night pressed in on them like a suffocating blanket, but after a few blocks of silent movement, flickers of flame appeared ahead.

They followed the light and found the rest of their group standing in the middle of a dark, broken street, surrounded by hollow buildings and shattered glass.

"We can’t stop here. We need to keep moving," Nero said, his voice edged with worry as he took the torch from a student.

Everburn burned in his grip, the warmth casting long shadows and drawing comfort from those around.

Without a word, Merek moved beside Professor David and helped Tevin shoulder him, relieving the other students. The old man groaned, but nodded in appreciation. Together, they pushed forward, boots crunching over cracked asphalt.

Nero led the way, holding the flaming torch aloft like a beacon. Fred took up the rear, bat in hand. Felicity leaned heavily on Carla, her limp more pronounced now, every step sending pain through her injured ankle.

Then came the quiet voice of the professor.

"Your healing balm... Where is it? I can duplicate it," he said, turning his head toward Merek.

Merek didn’t hesitate. "It’s gone. I used the last of it on Felicity. You’d only be duplicating an empty container."

Professor David frowned in disappointment, but Merek continued.

"Duplicate the crossbow instead."

The professor blinked. "You’re handing over your weapon for duplication?"

Merek nodded. "It’s not about me. It’s about us."

He glanced at the others before continuing. "I think most of you have forgotten something... because we haven’t run into a human camp yet."

Professor David’s brow furrowed. "What’s that?"

"Firearms," Merek said. "Guns. Grenades. Tanks. They still exist. And they still work. If we ran into ten men with rifles right now, I’m willing to bet only Felicity, Tevin, and I would survive."

He paused, letting the words settle.

"We need ranged weapons. That crossbow might not be a rifle, but it’s powerful enough to pierce Stage-2 defenses. If we duplicate it and give it to two trustworthy people, we’ll have two shotgun-type weapons protecting our base."

Professor David chuckled softly, then shook his head. "You’re thinking like a leader."

Merek gave a tired shrug. "I’m thinking about surviving."

But the professor’s expression darkened. "Your knights can guard the base. You plan to leave, don’t you?"

The weight in Merek’s silence was enough to confirm the suspicion.