Chapter Seven: The Army Of The Undead
1096 Words
Elijah’s pulse thundered in his ears. This wasn’t just some weird alien invasion—it was something much worse, something far beyond his ability to deal with.
And it wasn’t just his life on the line. Rean was here too. Again. Which meant, whether he liked it or not, he had to protect her.
“What do we do?” Rean’s voice trembled, her eyes darting between the shadows ahead.
“We run,” Elijah answered, his tone firm.
It might’ve been the smartest option—until the system’s cold, glowing words cut across his vision:
[ WARNING: IF PLAYER RUNS AWAY AND ABANDONS QUEST, PENALTY IS DEATH ]
Elijah’s stomach dropped. You’ve got to be kidding me, he muttered.
Rean, unaware of the message, was already convinced running was their only shot. She turned to go, hoping Elijah would follow. She didn’t know him well—at school, she was the popular new girl, and he was the quiet nerd everyone liked to target. They lived in different worlds… yet somehow, here they were, the last two survivors.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” she urged.
But when she tried to run, she found she couldn’t. Elijah’s hand clamped around her arm like iron.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, struggling to break free. “You said we should run, and now you’re just standing there?”
“We can’t.” His eyes never left the figures approaching from the distance.
“Why not?” she snapped, still pulling against his grip.
He hesitated. Telling her about the system messages would make him sound insane—and she was already terrified enough.
“Because…” he started, then glanced ahead. “Because of them.”
Rean followed his gaze. Her breath caught. At first, the creatures only stood there, growling like caged animals. Then, from behind them, more emerged—these ones leaping over the front ranks, scattering rubble, their movements jerky and wrong.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “What are they?”
“An army of the undead,” Elijah said flatly.
Before she could process his words, one of the creatures appeared in a blur—its clawed hand swinging straight for her head. Elijah reacted without thinking, yanking her behind him and taking her place.
“Excuse me,” he muttered, and shoved the monster.
It wasn’t a normal shove. The creature flew backwards, vanishing into the distance. Rean, too shaken to witness what just happened, had squeezed her eyes shut. All she could hear was the violent pounding of her heart.
When she finally opened them, she was standing where Elijah had been, and he was where she had been—his arms around her, his eyes locked on the horde ahead.
The creatures didn’t take kindly to what he’d done. A massive, scarred one at the front released a deafening screech—a battle cry that sent ripples through the blood-red sky. The sound seemed to ignite the others, especially those in the back.
The system spoke again:
[ WARNING: THE PRINCE OF THE UNDEAD HAS BLESSED THE UNDEAD COMMANDER WITH THE ECHO OF DEAD INSPIRATION ]
The words didn’t comfort Elijah. If anything, they confirmed how bad this was about to get. The undead now charged like a stampede, trampling their own in their frenzy to reach him.
He glanced at Rean. “Look, princess… you’re going to have to run.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Don’t make me say it twice.”
“I’m not leaving you here to die!” Tears streaked her cheeks.
“If you stay, I will die.” He still wouldn’t meet her eyes.
She hated the idea. But in the short time she’d known him, she’d learned Elijah didn’t take orders—he gave them. So she ran, not daring to look back.
A sharp chime rang in his ears:
[ WARNING: THE ARMY OF THE UNDEAD’S INTENTIONS HAVE CHANGED ]
No explanation followed.
Elijah stood alone, staring down the endless tide of snarling corpses. He had no weapon. No plan. Only the certainty that running was no longer an option.
And the army was coming for him.
Elijah had gotten Rean out. That was all that mattered. She was gone now—hopefully far enough away—and the cold reality set in.
He knew he wasn’t going to win this fight. Not against all of them. But victory wasn’t the point. If he could just hold them here long enough for her to escape, that would be enough.
The undead surged forward, their speed and savagery amplified since the commander’s blood-chilling battle cry. Elijah didn’t run—not because he didn’t want to, but because there was nowhere to go.
They came at him in waves. One by one. Ten by ten.
And somehow… somehow, he held his ground.
He fought barehanded, moving on pure instinct—ducking under claws, shoving bodies aside, driving his fists into rotting skulls. Every hit landed harder than he thought possible. Every kick sent bodies crashing into the dirt. It was like he’d stepped into the kind of fight he used to dream about when gaming in his room… except this was real, and it hurt.
Minutes—maybe hours—blurred together. By the time he could breathe again, half the horde was gone.
The victory came at a cost. His coat was shredded. His arms and face were covered in scratches and gashes. His body steamed from the heat of exertion, and his wounds looked less like cuts and more like burn marks. His legs trembled under him.
“Actually… I’m doing a lot better than I thought,” he muttered, almost surprised by the words.
Then the system pinged.
[ REWARD: PLAYER HAS UNLOCKED FLASH PUNCH ]
[ DESCRIPTION: FLASH PUNCH ALLOWS THE PLAYER TO STRIKE ANY ENEMY AT SUPER SPEED—POWER SCALES WITH THE ENEMY’S LEVEL. ]
[ FLASH PUNCH LV. 1 ]
Elijah flexed his fingers, studying his unscathed hands. “Flash Punch, huh? Guess it’s better than nothing.”
Across the battlefield, the undead commander stared, motionless. His army—his entire army—was falling like wheat before the scythe, all to a single human.
The commander glanced at the dark, swirling portal behind him… then back at Elijah.
He screeched again—this time, the sound cracked like thunder, shaking the ground beneath their feet.
From the portal, new shapes began to emerge.
And these were nothing like the ones Elijah had just fought.
- Writer
