After Erich and Frederick left, following one of the villagers—

Barnes was gripped by a strange sense of unease. Compared to what he usually felt, this 'chilling gaze' felt much stronger.

And soon, he was able to directly face the true nature of the ominous glances he had been feeling until now.

Something was walking toward them from the distant forest.

Its pace was slow, but Barnes recognized it instantly. The cold air rising around them. It was because that coldness was by no means of this world.

Barnes bit his lip hard. He drew the horn that hung at his hip.

― Bwooooooooo!

This was the horn that summoned the villagers. Normally, he would use it to gather them for training... but this time was different.

― Clatter!

The pitch-dark midnight, even the moon hidden behind clouds. The villagers burst out of their doors, faces full of annoyance.

"Damn it, that idiot bastard, he's not getting away with it tonight."

"Do you even know what time it is?"

Complaints erupted from villagers dragging themselves from their homes. Among them, one man strode boldly up the palisade and declared,

"Tonight, I'm really going to teach that idiot a lesson. Don't stop me."

But—

"Huh, huuh?"

The villager atop the palisade turned pale.

"Hey! You were all fired up coming up, but what's wrong with your face now?"

The villagers started laughing at his frightened expression. But the man couldn't muster even a half-hearted joke.

When he pointed with trembling eyes, the others, without exception, looked outside. And soon, they too fell silent.

For the first time in their lives, they saw a horde of monsters marching straight toward the village.

"... Arm yourselves."

Barnes said nothing more. He simply handed them weapons.

The villagers' hands quivered. Until now, the only tools they had ever gripped were hoes and sickles.

But regardless, they blankly took the weapons, silently praying they would never have to swing them.

And amidst this—

Barnes stood firm in the guard post and spoke.

"If you go back, you'll see a barricade set up as the final line of defense. Stay there, all of you."

Swallowing noises could be heard all around.

They had forgotten, but Barnes had been dispatched by the Watch as their agent, as their superior.

Although his authority had been disregarded during peaceful times, tonight the villagers were made keenly aware of it again.

Barnes's fearless act of unsheathing his sword toward those terrifying beings alone left a huge impact on them.

Just then—

The man who had earlier climbed the palisade to strike Barnes spoke up.

"A-are you going to keep guarding here? If you stay, you'll die too."

"A Watchman does not abandon his post while alive."

The villager tried to respond, but he was silenced by Barnes's next words.

"That is the rule."

It was the phrase Barnes always used when ringing the bell and closing the gate. Normally, this meant nothing—but at this moment, it carried a terrifying weight.

The man muttered vacantly as he climbed down.

"... See you alive."

Barnes gave no reply. He never had.

Once the villagers had all retreated, he moved quickly.

The ballista installed atop the palisade. These were the weapons he loaded with heavy bolts every dawn.

It was regulation.

He cranked them, one by one.

And then—

― PAKAKAKAK!

The massive ballista bolts pierced the corpses. The shot was so powerful that dust rose where it landed.

But even with a huge bolt stuck in their chests, the monsters marched on relentlessly.

More ballistas fired, but except for a few that hit the heads, it hardly seemed to injure the foes.

'Is this what the guard captain warned about?'

Don't hesitate—decapitate them. Barnes recalled Erich's advice.

But engaging in real close combat with them would very likely turn this place into his grave.

Instead of drawing his sword, Barnes mentally reviewed the defensive structures he'd always remembered.

When the dead entered the hay-strewn area, Barnes grabbed his bow and arrows.

― Phewng

The fire arrow he loosed didn't strike the dead. But it hit among their ranks.

― Fwwoooooosh.

The villagers had always complained. Why pour this stuff out on the fields? But Barnes had never cared for those words. He had quietly doused the area with oil.

Tonight, enforced by the ever-principled Watchman, that oil was burning crimson.

Of course, the dead pressed forward through the flames. But some had their flesh burn, emitting grotesque noises, and to Barnes, it seemed notably effective.

'Fire works quite well.'

Barnes loosed several more fire arrows, aiming for their heads.

― Grrrghhh.

By now, their groans could be heard up close. Barnes put down the bow and hurried under the guard post.

― Shing.

He drew his sword. Through a gap in the palisade, he scanned the marching undead. Once they were close enough—

― Clang! Clang! Clang!

Barnes sliced through the ropes protruding from the palisade. The knots were so tight he had to hack at them several times.

― KWANG!

A hidden spike trap shot out from the palisade.

― KRKRKRK!

The tangle of spikes hurled into the undead was notably effective, different from the other defenses. It smashed their heads, impaled their corpses.

It was a satisfying result. Even if he always suffered curses from villagers when repairing them.

At any rate, Barnes cut every trap rope, and the dead were swept up by them, halting their relentless advance briefly.

He climbed the guard post again and grabbed the long spear thrust into the palisade.

― Puk!

He jabbed at the dead clinging to the wall. Hitting their heads precisely was difficult, but Barnes practiced this often, so it was far from impossible.

If a spear broke, he quickly grabbed a new one. Soon, his hands, having lost several spears, were drenched in blood.

― Squelch! Squelch.

Dozens of the undead clung to the barricade now. Breaking noises sounded everywhere. Barnes sensed it instinctively:'Time to fall back.'

He retreated from the palisade and ran for the final barricade, glimpsing the villagers there, trembling. He paused mid-step.

Placing a hand on his sword hilt, he turned to face them. The sound of steel rang as he drew his sword.

― Tsk!

At that moment, cracks on the barricade deepened, and now their hands and weapons broke through the wooden wall.

― CRUNCH!

Finally, the palisade collapsed.

Taking slow breaths, Barnes thought,

'This may be my grave.'

But to his surprise, Barnes felt peace. Even if it weren't the dead, his end had already been decided.

To die writhing in pain as his skin rotted and his insides melted from the drugs' side effects. Or to die fighting these unknown monsters to fulfill his mission for the Watch.

There was no doubt which was the worthier death.

In Barnes's eyes, the flames flickered, reflecting burning undead. He murmured,

"Grant salvation through death."

Roughly a dozen survived the traps. As soon as they broke through the palisade, they charged ravenously at Barnes.

― KRAAAAH!

Barnes also charged at them, roaring the name of his god.

"Incensus—!"

His black cloak fluttered. The sword traced a long arc.

― Shlaaash!

A clean strike from shoulder to neck. Severing a head in a single stroke, Barnes composedly faced the next ones.

― Clang!

But the undead's strength was well beyond expectations; blood ran from Barnes's hands each time their weapons clashed.

Even earlier, when stabbing spears over the wall, his grip strength had nearly run out.

― Shhk!

The more he retreated, the more cuts appeared on his body. Unlike the undead, humans tired as time passed.

A step, and blood spurted from his shoulder. The next, from his side. One by one, he blocked the monsters' weapons with his body.

Luckily, his body was an odd blessing. Though ruined by drugs, their side effects had granted him freakish regeneration, staunching blood quickly.

"Ghh."

But that could only hold for so long. He was sustaining wounds faster than they could heal.

Barnes's breath turned ragged.

'How much longer can I hold out...?'

Life had never been fair, especially for Barnes and his brother, Max.

He thought,

'What's the point? I'm dead soon anyway.'

Just a life burned up by drugs. Poisoned regeneration now spent in this fight; whether he survived or not, death was inevitable.

He looked into the dead's unfocused eyes. Faces burning with nothing but the will to kill him.

'I'll leave nothing behind.'

― Chunk!

Was this what it would feel like to clash with some legendary golem? He reflexively blocked the monster's arm, stumbling backward.

Barnes's eyes darted reflexively backward. The barricade was getting close. His vision blurred from blood loss.

Yet—

― Clank!

He swung again, driving the undead back, and hurried to the barricade, barely leaning against its stacked crates for support.

His sword hand trembled; his vision swam. He could no longer lift his weapon.

Finally, he let go.

'Really... this is enough.'

No one could blame him. Though he'd lived under the thumb of someone like Nicholas, in the end, it's death's manner that gives life its worth.

This was an honorable death—so he no longer felt shame holding his sword.

He shut his eyes with relief,

Waiting for death to come.

But then—

"L-let's go out there too!"

"Protect that man!"

The villagers who'd been hiding behind the barricade—

They now rushed out and surrounded him. Barnes felt their trembling.

They were afraid. Those monsters right before their eyes.

Yet the villagers showed no sign whatsoever of retreating before the advancing dead. Barnes instinctively knew.

'They've never even held a weapon, only farm tools....'

They cannot stop the dead. Even if they tried to block with their bodies, it would just be a pointless death. The monsters, with such frightening power, would never brawl with mere farmers.

'They should have just run away.'

If they had, maybe some could have survived, fleeing in all directions, or perhaps even toward the Great Wall.

But the villagers did not run.

Why?

Rather than pondering it, Barnes wiped the sweat, blood, and saliva from his face. Then, tying his trembling sword hand with a rope, he strode ahead of the villagers.

And muttered low,

"... O Incensus."

Before the fight, he had hoped for salvation through death.

But now, he could only pray for something else.

"For these people..."

He raised his sword high. The monsters' burning flesh glinted off its blade. He closed his eyes for a moment, then finished his prayer.

"Please grant them a tomorrow."

And once more, he charged the undead. The startled villagers parted for him.

― Krrrr—

Their guttural breaths came terrifyingly close. Barnes, now lost to reason, traded blows. Flesh tore, blood sprayed. But he never retreated. The villagers were behind him.

― Chunk!

His vision blacked out. He'd just driven his blade into a dead one's skull and rolled onto the ground with it.

Even as he collapsed, he blindly slashed behind him—more to ward off attackers than strike home.

But he sensed instinctively: even if it wasn't a monster standing behind him, no one would back off from such a feeble strike. He was simply that exhausted.

'Is this the end?'

He mocked himself. It was always going to come to this. But still, if, while he writhed like a dog, even one villager survived—then it was worth it—

― Clang!

"...!"

"Whoa, calm down, let's talk this out."

At that moment—

A long-forgotten voice struck his ears.

It was none other than the guard captain, Erich, who had gone to look for his brother Max.

Barnes's eyes blurred with confusion.

'Didn't he go looking for Max...? Why is he already...?'

But Erich didn't wait for Barnes to regain his senses—he charged straight ahead.

Every time his sword flashed in the moonlight, an undead head flew. To Barnes, it was a scene one would only see in dreams.

Somehow, watching crimson lights flicker and dance in the darkness, everything around him began to feel unreal.

― Thud.

He sat down limply in place. And in his fading vision, he saw Erich slaughtering the dead.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=I hope Barnes survives...With how great his character is, it would be a loss on the Watch.【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】

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