Just as fear began to crystallize in the minds of soldiers and civilians in Estath Square, the next brutal and irreversible mutations appeared. The deadly grey-black mist seemed to have completely invaded the bodies and souls of the remaining members of Unit 18.

Mia, the archer with golden-blond hair and eyes that once shone with steadfast determination, now began to contort her body grotesquely. Agonizing moans escaped her throat, similar to what Torsan had endured earlier.

Daniel, the usually calm and taciturn mage, suddenly doubled over. His face was now deathly pale, sweat pouring off him in sheets, and he vomited a thick, black, viscous substance that reeked of a foul stench.

The flesh on Lumos's powerful frame began to ulcerate, blistering and then rupturing, revealing patches of stark white bone and purplish, twitching muscle beneath.

Larm, the seasoned axe warrior, exuded a dense, dark green smoke, carrying the smell of sulfur and death, forcing those nearby to recoil due to difficulty breathing.

As for Egan, the nimble swordsman, his eyes bulged lifelessly, and from those empty sockets, fat, white maggots began to squirm out, an utterly repulsive sight.

The twelve members of Unit 18 had once fought side by side in the terrifying mission at the Bandit Graveyard. Now, nine of them had successively shown or were showing signs of horrific mutation.

Only Henry and Sophia, by some miracle, still showed no abnormal signs. Captain Jacobs, the strong leader, though his aura remained, the faint grey-black mist surrounding him indicated the danger had not truly passed, merely dormant for now.

Was it because Henry and Sophia had left the unit, thereby avoiding the full impact of the latent curse? Or was it due to some other deeper reason, a hidden difference in their bodies or souls? Or perhaps, worst of all, this was merely a delay of fate, those evil signs would eventually manifest in them too, it was only a matter of time? Countless questions, terrifying hypotheses, once again arose, tormenting Henry's mind.

For him at this moment, even facing a pack of ferocious Rank 3 or Rank 4 monsters was not as terrifying as the thought that he and Sophia might be carrying an unidentifiable latent threat. If it truly manifested, turning them both into mindless, bloodthirsty Undead, that would be the worst possible outcome, a fate he never dared to imagine.

Mia, after a period of writhing in extreme agony, had finally completely transformed. Her beautiful face was now blue-black, swollen, covered in purplish, zigzagging blood veins like earthworms.

Her once intelligent, quick eyes were now empty, lifeless, only a blood-red hue of bloodlust remaining. Her gait was stumbling, lurching, swaying erratically, no longer showing any sign of life, of a human being. She had officially become a zombie, a mindless puppet controlled by brutal instinct.

The remaining soldiers in the square's defensive force, though their hearts were filled with fear and revulsion, still tried to maintain their formation, together charging to attack Mia. But this zombie, newly transformed from a high-ranking, proved to be incredibly strong and ferocious.

She easily batted away their attacks, her strength and speed far surpassing those of ordinary zombies. Immediately, an experienced mage used a control spell, binding the zombie, creating an opportunity for a brave Paladin to use a weapon consecrated with light, quickly finishing her off.

The entire process, from Mia's mutation to her destruction, took only a little over ten short seconds. But its brutality and tragedy made all who witnessed it shudder, imagining the horrifying fate awaiting the remaining members of Unit 18.

"Captain! Do it!" Daniel, amidst agonizing convulsions, screamed, his voice hoarse, his eyes looking at Jacobs with desperation yet also containing a fervent plea. "Kill… kill us now… before it's too late!" Lumos, the giant warrior, now just a wretched shadow of his former self, knelt on the ground, head bowed, accepting his cruel fate.

Two other members, Larm and Egan, their bodies mutated beyond human recognition, were also extremely weakened. Though they said nothing, their eyes, which still held a faint glimmer of light, seemed to accept death as a final release. Both bowed their heads, awaiting the merciful blow from the captain they had always respected.

Captain Jacobs stood stunned, looking at his comrades, his brothers, kneeling before him, awaiting death at his own hand. In a brief moment, countless memories, recollections of the days spent fighting side-by-side, facing life and death together, sharing joys and sorrows, flooded his mind like a slow-motion film.

The hearty laughter after each victorious battle, the tears of sorrow for fallen comrades, the words of encouragement and support during the most difficult times… All appeared vividly, painfully.

Previously, the cruelest thing he had witnessed was his comrades sacrificing themselves on the battlefield. Now, cruel history was repeating itself. It was infinitely worse. Perhaps, his own hand would be the one to end them, the brothers he cherished more than his own life.

His heart felt as if it were being torn into a hundred pieces. He squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling, unable to bear seeing this tragic scene. His hand gripped the familiar greatsword, knuckles white from the force.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

A long, wailing, desperate scream tore through the suffocatingly silent square. The scream drowned out all other chaotic sounds around, a heart-wrenching cry, carrying all the indignation, helplessness, and extreme anguish of a mighty warrior facing the cruelest choice of his life. Amidst that frenzied scream, the cold, sharp 'swish-swish' of the greatsword slicing through air and flesh could be heard.

Each swing of the sword, up then down, felled a dear comrade of Jacobs. Each of those blows felt as if Jacobs himself were personally killing his own comrades, his own brothers.

Less than a minute, such a short, fragile span of time. In normal life, a minute might only be enough to hastily eat breakfast, perhaps not even enough to put on a pair of shoes, too little time to accomplish anything meaningful. But in that cruel minute, Captain Jacobs had to witness five of his dear subordinates transform into bloodthirsty Undead monsters and be killed on the spot by other soldiers.

And then, with his own hand, using the sword that had accompanied him through life and death, he had to slay the remaining four, the last four brothers of Unit 18.

The thing Jacobs had always feared most, always tried to avoid most throughout his military career, he now had to face it in the most merciless way possible.

Only four sword strokes, but they drained all his strength and will to live. He, the mighty captain, now knelt amidst the still-warm corpses of the comrades he had just been forced to kill.

Jacobs screamed, punching the hard brickwork of the square, fresh blood gushing from his shattered knuckles, mingling with tears and dust. He just wanted to vent the agonizing emotions and the excruciating pain tormenting his soul. Blood had flowed on the bricks; the tears of a strong man had also fallen.

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Many civilians and soldiers around, though not directly involved in that tragedy, all understood what was happening. They looked at Captain Jacobs with sad, compassionate eyes, and also with respect for these brave soldiers who had suffered such a cruel fate.

Some mages who were still lucid enough stood nearby, preparing their most powerful Undead-suppressing spells, in case Jacobs also mutated. The Paladins, warriors of light, were also in position, awaiting that horrifying moment.

Sophia collapsed to the ground, her body limp as if devoid of all strength. Henry quickly knelt on one knee, allowing her to lean against him.

Sophia's hands covered her mouth tightly, trying to suppress choked sobs, but tears streamed ceaselessly down her pale cheeks. She couldn't believe what had just happened; though she knew it was a necessary and perhaps the most humane course of action in this situation, it was still too cruel, too painful.

Sophia grieved for the loss of her friends, the comrades who had shared joys and sorrows with her. She also felt sorrow and compassion for Captain Jacobs, the captain she had always respected like an elder brother, as he had to perform such a terrible act.

Henry, from behind, hugged Sophia tightly, trying to transmit some warmth and stability to her, so she wouldn't be too overcome with emotion and faint, or do something reckless like rushing into that dangerous area.

He was also extremely shocked and pained to witness his dear comrades fall one by one. But for him now, Sophia and Captain Jacobs were more important than anything. No matter what happened, he had to try to keep one of them safe.

After a period of screaming, writhing in despair, Captain Jacobs gradually calmed down. He slowly stood up, his bloodshot, lifeless eyes looking down at the bodies of his comrades lying scattered at his feet.

Then he silently removed his familiar armor, piece by piece, as if wanting to shed all the burdens, responsibilities, and pain he had carried on his shoulders for too long.

All the surrounding soldiers became extremely tense. Weapons and spells were readied, waiting for the slightest sign.

Captain Jacobs looked around the square, his face now smeared with dirt, fresh blood, and tears. He looked at the soldiers standing guard vigilantly, then his gaze swept over the civilians cowering in fear in the inner part of the square. Finally, his eyes rested on Henry and Sophia, his two former comrades, the two younger siblings he had always cherished.

"You two… you two are still safe, that's good," His voice was hoarse from too much screaming, yet it held a strange relief. "Live well." A gentle, serene smile appeared on his chapped lips, a flicker of peace in the midst of his pain.

Captain Jacobs slowly raised the tip of his greatsword, pressing it lightly against his left chest, where the heart of a brave warrior was beating its final rhythms. He wanted to end his own life before completely transforming into a mindless, bloodthirsty Undead, before he could harm those he loved.

The surrounding soldiers remained in their positions, no one intending to stop him. For Captain Jacobs, a hero, a respected captain, they felt sympathy and true respect. Perhaps, this was the final act, the only choice he could make to preserve the honor of a soldier.

"Captain Jacobs!" Sophia let out a final scream, the name of the captain, the elder brother she had always loved, echoing throughout the mournful square. Witnessing this scene, she could no longer suppress her emotions.

Henry held Sophia tightly, using all his strength to restrain her, his eyes also glinting with helplessness and despair, witnessing the painful scene about to unfold, a tragic end that everyone seemed to have anticipated.

Suddenly, Henry sensed abnormal signs. His Mystic Sense vibrated violently. In the ground, directly beneath Captain Jacobs's position, a sinister, cold aether was moving at extreme speed, heading straight for him.

When the tip of the greatsword had already pressed a deep segment into his left chest, when the fragile distance between Captain Jacobs's life and death was as small as a fingertip, a Rank 3 Wraith, its form as ethereal as a ghost, suddenly shot up from underground, using its sharp claws to knock the greatsword out of Jacobs's hand.

Immediately after, without any hesitation, it circled back to attack him. Some nearby mages reacted extremely quickly; they immediately used their most powerful light spells, restraining and binding the Wraith. Captain Jacobs, though surprised and disarmed, managed to pick up his greatsword in time, and with a single, powerful blow, ended the Undead monster.

However, things did not end so quickly and simply. From all directions around the square, countless other Undead, of all kinds, from weak dry skeletons to ferocious Rank 2 and Rank 3 zombies, were madly rushing in, forming an increasingly tightening encirclement.

In that brief moment, Captain Jacobs seemed to have temporarily forgotten his intention to commit suicide. He used all his remaining strength, his still-bleeding hand gripping the greatsword tightly, and charged straight into the dense crowd of Undead in front.

The mages also quickly supported him; they cast enhancing light spells on his greatsword, while simultaneously trying to staunch the deep wound on his chest.

One by one, the Paladins and even Henry, after receiving the necessary support spells, also charged out without hesitation, fighting alongside their captain, confronting those ferocious Undead.

The battle was not overly difficult, because all those directly engaged in combat now were Rank 3 or higher, and they also had strong support from the light mages behind.

Henry, thanks to the special ability of his Mystic Sense, once again noticed abnormal signs. From the corpses of the comrades who had just fallen, from the corpses of the Undead just destroyed, thin, jet-black streams of aether, like wisps of smoke, were slowly rising.

Perhaps, besides him, no one present had discovered this strange phenomenon. All those black aether streams, somehow, were concentrating, converging towards Captain Jacobs - and it was certain that Jacobs himself was completely unaware of this.

Currently, Captain Jacobs stood imposing on a towering pile of Undead flesh. The recent battle seemed to be the only way for him to vent, to release all the pent-up emotions, the excruciating pain tormenting his body and mind.

During the fight, he did not evade, but actively took blows, even deliberately enduring attacks from the Undead. It was his way of ensuring he would die heroically while on duty, a death he considered worthy of a soldier. Now, his entire body was covered in fresh blood from the wound on his chest and countless other scratches and bites inflicted by the Undead.

Captain Jacobs panted, each breath heavy, labored. Then he slowly knelt on one knee; the deadly grey-black mist surrounding his body was still there, faint but persistent, like an unresolvable curse. He still couldn't escape it.

In just a fleeting instant, Captain Jacobs again showed signs of mutation. His entire body suddenly radiated an unusually strong aura, a powerful, surging aether flowing through his body, much stronger than before. Henry, with the keenness of his Mystic Sense, immediately recognized it.

Captain Jacobs had successfully ascended - now, he had officially become a Rank 5 powerhouse!

Jacobs himself also sensed this extraordinary change in his body. He felt the extreme irony of fate, as he was able to ascend, to break through to a new realm of power, right after such a horrific, bloody battle, a battle in which he had to personally kill his closest comrades. The deadly grey-black mist surrounding him, which had tormented him for days, also suddenly vanished completely, as if it had never existed.

However, even though he had become stronger, even though he had escaped the curse of mutation, Captain Jacobs still wanted to let go of everything. Though the wounds on his body were healing at an astonishing rate thanks to the power of Rank 5, he was still gripping the greatsword tightly, its tip still pointed towards his heart, ready to commit suicide at any moment.

"Captain! You… you've ascended! You've become a Rank 5!" Henry shouted loudly, his voice full of astonishment but also unconcealed joy and hope. He deliberately spoke loudly to alert the others to this miraculous change. "Now, your responsibility to Zephyros is much greater! You can't just die like this!".

"Captain! There's also Laura! She's still at home waiting for you! If you die now, how will she live?" Sophia also sobbed, trying to dissuade Jacobs, hoping that love and family responsibility could hold him back.

"Captain Jacobs! We notice the deadly mist surrounding you has completely disappeared! You are now a Rank 5, a true powerhouse! Your position in the army, in protecting Zephyros, is incredibly important! It's likely that Central Aerion will send Sages, even Demigods, to completely purify any remaining evil aura within you! Please remain calm! Don't do anything rash!" Some other mages and Paladins also spoke up in unison, trying to persuade the brave captain.

Many other soldiers present in the square also tried their best to dissuade him; their sincere words, their hopeful eyes, seemed to have touched Jacobs's heart, which had been hardened by suffering. At this moment, a flicker of hesitation, something holding him back to this life, arose within him.

But, in just a few short breaths, as hope had just begun to flicker, another horrifying event struck. That deadly grey-black mist, which had just disappeared from Jacobs, appeared once again. But this time, it did not emanate from him; it came from a stranger, someone completely covered in a cloak, revealing only thin, skeletal, blackened arms like dry branches and a chilling white human-bone mask.

That person had appeared at some unknown point, hovering in mid-air, directly above Captain Jacobs, like a phantom from hell.

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