章節 22: 22: Nightfall Hunt
The night was cold, a biting chill that crawled beneath our armor and settled deep in our bones. The moon hung high, casting eerie shadows across the fields as we moved silently through the wastelands, just outside the castle walls. It wasn't safe for the villagers to roam here, and frankly, it wasn't safe for us either. But when a kingdom was plagued with the dead rising from their graves, you didn't get to choose comfort over duty.
I led a group of five tonight—a handful of men who'd seen too much death and were somehow still willing to risk it. They were fighters, the kind who knew when to keep quiet and when to strike, men who had already lost friends, family, and pieces of themselves to the nightmare that gripped our land.
"Keep your wits about you," I whispered, scanning the tree line for movement. "The dead aren't the only things that hunt in the night."
Soren, a seasoned warrior with eyes sharp as a hawk's, nodded, his jaw tight. "I've got a bad feeling about tonight, your majesty," he murmured. "Feels... different. Like something's waiting for us."
I offered him a grim smile. "We'll handle it. Just stay close, and don't let the others stray."
I motioned for the group to follow, and we pressed on, each step muffled in the underbrush. But inside, I felt the same unease as Soren. The land was quieter than usual. No birds, no insects. Even the wind seemed to have held its breath, waiting. My mind flickered back to Agartha, to the stone that had been buried with my mother, to the way she'd betrayed us all by taking it and vanishing without a word. I'd given her freedom, trusted her, and she'd taken a piece of the kingdom's soul in return.
But there was no time to dwell on the past. A groaning, guttural moan broke the silence, drawing our attention to the left. There, just beyond a thicket, emerged a horde of zombies, their faces twisted in an expressionless, deadly hunger.
"They're here!" I hissed, pulling my sword free from its sheath, the cold steel gleaming under the moonlight. "Get ready!"
With a roar, the men rushed forward, weapons raised. The first wave of zombies met us head-on, their rotting bodies jerking forward as if on strings. I lunged, slicing through the nearest one, its decaying flesh parting with ease. The stench was unbearable, a rancid mix of death and rot that clung to my nostrils, but we'd long grown used to it.
Soren was beside me, moving swiftly, his sword cleaving through the undead with brutal efficiency. His face was set, focused, as he mowed through the creatures. "They just keep coming!" he shouted, fending off a particularly tenacious zombie that seemed impervious to his blows.
"That's the problem with the dead," I replied through gritted teeth, hacking down another. "They don't know when to quit."
For every one we fell, another seemed to take its place. The numbers were overwhelming, more than we'd encountered in weeks. And that's when I saw it—a figure, larger than the others, lurking in the shadows, its eyes a dim, unnatural glow. It wasn't like the rest. There was a power in it, a strength I hadn't seen before.
"Your Majesty, behind you!" Soren's warning came just in time. I twisted around, raising my sword as the creature lunged at me, its clawed hand swiping mere inches from my face. I drove my blade into its chest, but it barely flinched, grabbing my arm with a strength that was bone-crushing.
I gritted my teeth, trying to pull free. "Soren, get it off me!"
Soren swung his sword, catching the creature in the side. It let out a shriek that rattled the trees, but its grip on me remained, fingers digging into my flesh.
"You're stubborn," I muttered, struggling against its hold. With a swift motion, I managed to yank my arm free and plunged my sword deep into its head. This time, it went still, crumpling to the ground.
But the victory was short-lived.
A scream tore through the night as one of my men was dragged down by three zombies, their teeth sinking into his flesh before he could even raise his sword. "No!" I lunged toward him, slashing at the creatures, but it was too late. His eyes had already gone vacant, the life snuffed out in a matter of seconds.
"Fall back!" I shouted, trying to gather the remaining men. "There are too many of them!"
Soren gripped my shoulder, his face pale. "Your Majesty, we're losing ground. We have to go now."
But before I could respond, I stumbled, feeling a sharp, searing pain in my side. I looked down to see a jagged rock lodged in my flesh, blood soaking through my armor. The pain was blinding, a hot, throbbing agony that stole my breath.
"Your Majesty!" Soren's eyes widened with horror as he noticed my injury. "Damn it, you're hurt!"
I managed a weak nod, trying to stay on my feet. "It's... nothing. Just a scratch."
But the blood told a different story, and my vision was starting to blur.
Soren grabbed me, slinging my arm over his shoulder. "We're getting you out of here. Now!"
The remaining warriors closed ranks around us, hacking through the zombies as they fought to keep me safe. My mind was slipping, the pain fading into a dull throb as the world grew hazy. I could hear the sounds of battle, the cries of my men, the sickening crunch of bone and flesh, but it all felt distant, as if happening in another world.
"Hang on, your Majesty" Soren urged, his voice filled with a desperation I hadn't heard before. "We're almost there. Just stay with me."
We staggered through the darkness, each step feeling heavier than the last. My breaths came shallow, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me. My thoughts drifted, unfocused, until an image floated to the surface—Agartha. Her face, her voice, the way she'd smiled the night she'd vanished with the stone. The betrayal cut deeper than any wound.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to focus. I couldn't let this be the end. Not with so much still unresolved. Not while my people were depending on me.
"Almost there, your majesty," Soren's voice was strained as he pushed onward, refusing to let me fall. I felt the grip of the other men, steadying me, helping carry me forward. They were my brothers-in-arms, and in that moment, I knew I wasn't alone.
Finally, we stumbled into our hideout, a small, fortified structure we'd prepared outside the castle walls. They laid me down gently, Soren barking orders to the others. "Get water! And someone fetch a healer!"
The cold stone pressed against my back, grounding me as I tried to stay conscious. The pain was relentless, but I held on, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts—of Agartha, of the kingdom, of the brothers who resented me and the people who needed me.
Soren knelt beside me, his face etched with worry. "You're going to be alright, your majesty. Just hang on. We'll patch you up, and you'll be back on your feet in no time."
I managed a weak smile, though the effort sent a fresh wave of pain through my side. "You better... make sure of that. We've got more of them to fight tomorrow."
Soren chuckled, though there was no humor in his eyes. "Rest now, my king. We'll take care of the kingdom tonight."
As I closed my eyes, the faces of my fallen men flashed before me, a grim reminder of the cost of this endless war. The dead walked our lands, and though Agartha was gone, her memory haunted me as much as they did.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票