“It’s because they fell headfirst.”
“Huh?”
Seeing their puzzled looks, Ian tapped his forehead with a finger.
“For most undead, the weak point is the head—or more precisely, the core inside it. Think of it as their heart. It looks like a small orb, and even a slight impact can shatter it. That soldier probably knocked one over, and the core broke when its head hit the ground.”
Aside from spectral undead (which required magic to harm), most undead could be dealt with by destroying the head.
“Brother, is that really true?” Hubert asked, stunned.
“Why would I lie?”
Hubert and Collin gaped, unable to believe the solution had been so simple.
‘Well, they wouldn’t know unless they’d faced undead before.’
Their shock reminded Ian of his own past. Back when he was a Meta Pangaea novice, he’d assumed only aura blades could kill undead.
‘I ended up relying on a mage companion until they asked why I wasn’t attacking. When I explained, they laughed and told me the same weakness I just shared.’
The revelation had hit him like a hammer to the skull. Now, Huber and Collin were experiencing that same epiphany.
“To think… it was that easy.” Hubert muttered, equally embarrassed and amazed.
“I’ll relay this to the troops immediately.” Collin said.
Better late than never. If this was true, fear would no longer paralyze them.
‘Though the soldiers might be furious they didn’t know sooner.’
The hot-blooded Rosen troops would likely take out their frustration on the undead. Soon, it’d be the skeletons who deserved pity.
“But if the core isn’t destroyed, they’ll regenerate. That’s still a problem.”
Someone might recklessly charge forward, breaking formation to smash a skull—a disaster waiting to happen.
“Our soldiers wouldn’t be that rash, but the Nase troops might. Issue blunt weapons—maces, flails, even clubs or pans. The heavier the impact, the easier it’ll be to crush the cores.”
“Understood, Captain.”
‘Huh, he came up with that on his own.’
Ian had been about to suggest the same.
‘Having competent people around really makes life easier.’
This was why recruiting talent mattered.
“What kinds of undead have appeared so far? Just skeletons?”
“Until a few days ago, yes. But scouts recently reported zombie and skeletal variants of greenskins and lizardmen. About twenty spotted so far.”
Ian’s expression darkened.
‘They’re multiplying faster than expected.’
Twenty confirmed meant many more unseen.
“Arm half the troops with blunt weapons and begin the purge. Oswell, leave Hubert to me—I have my own task.”
“Yes, Young Master. We’ll eradicate them, even if it costs our lives.”
“Don’t die. I need you alive. I’ll stay and defend Ansen in case any slip through.”
Collin bowed, and the meeting ended.
While Collin seemed unfazed by Ian’s decision, Oswell wasn’t. He stared at the empty seat, perplexed.
‘The Young Master… isn’t taking command?’
Ian always led from the front—against monster hordes, the Grand Schrantz Alliance, every major battle. He’d stubbornly insisted on raising his “contribution,” whatever that meant.
Yet now, he’d voluntarily chosen the rear.
‘Has he finally listened to me?’
Oswell should’ve been relieved. But instead—
‘Why do I feel uneasy?’
He couldn’t explain it. But before Ian changed his mind—
“Vice-Captain. Scour the village for blacksmiths and weapons. Hammers, axes, even wooden clubs or frying pans—anything blunt. Gather as many as possible.”
“Yes, Captain!”
Duty came first.
***
Exhausted, Ian returned to the upscale inn where he was staying. The same room as last time—yet fatigue hit him the moment he entered.
Five days of near-nonstop travel would wear anyone out.
“Nea, you there?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
She entered at his call.
“You needed me?”
“I have a job for you.”
“Just say the word.”
“Investigate any migrants or outsiders who arrived in the past year—especially those who don’t work or wander at night.”
“…Do you know how many people live in this village?”
“Exactly 797. Nearly 800 soon.”
“…”
So he knew—and still assigned this.
Nea exhaled deeply. Refusal wasn’t an option.
“Fine. I’ll look into it.”
“How long?”
“Three days.”
Ian had expected at least ten.
“That’s why I keep you around.”
“Flattery won’t make me happy.”
Yet a smile tugged at her lips.
‘Her loyalty’s already maxed out, but…’
Praise worked wonders.
Nea, who craved recognition more than anyone, was undoubtedly thrilled inside.
Dark Night
The patrol guards of Ansen walked their nightly rounds, relying on the dim glow of their torches.
“Hey, did you hear? The subjugation force figured out the undead’s weakness and started wiping them out.”
“Who in this village hasn’t heard? But get this—apparently, Young Master Ian was the one who told them about the weakness.”
“Really? He even knew that? The man’s a walking encyclopedia.”
A sense of hope had finally returned, and the guards couldn’t help but smile.
“The captain’s been miserable since he couldn’t drink at night. Bet he’ll be back to his old self soon.”
“Kinda wish he’d stay sober a little longer. It was nice not having him rush off to the tavern after duty.”
“Now that you mention it… maybe this situation lasting a bit longer wouldn’t be so bad?”
Just days ago, they had trembled at the thought of undead swarming Ansen. Now, they could even joke about it.
“Hold up.”
The guard holding the torch suddenly raised a hand, stopping his companion mid-laugh.
“What’s wrong?”
“You see that? Someone’s coming this way.”
Squinting into the darkness, they could just make out a shadowy figure approaching.
‘Undead?’
Their reaction was swift.
“Halt! Hands up! Move and you’re dead! Identify yourself!”
Spears leveled, they braced for the worst.
The figure froze, arms shooting up in surrender.
“Advance three steps!”
As the shadow drew closer, the torchlight revealed a frail-looking woman.
The guards lowered their weapons, exhaling in relief.
“What are you doing out at this hour? You know night travel’s banned.”
With undead sightings near the village, strict curfews had been enforced—violators faced harsh penalties.
“My grandmother—the one who raised me—she’s very ill. I was rushing to get medicine. Please, could you pretend you didn’t see me?”
Her voice trembled with desperation.
The guards exchanged uneasy glances. Rules were rules, but her plea tugged at their conscience.
After a quick scan to ensure no other patrols were watching, one sighed.
“Fine. We didn’t see you. And if another squad catches you, keep our names out of it.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
With repeated bows, she vanished back into the night.
“Did we do the right thing?”
“Course we did. Even if we get chewed out for it.”
Proud of their small act of mercy, they resumed their patrol.
“We should hurry. Shift change’s coming up.”
“Right, right.”
Their torchlight faded into the distance.
Only then—
Swish.
A figure lurking behind the fence emerged, watching them leave before melting back into the shadows.
***
Three Days Later
Ian lounged in his quarters, reviewing the latest reports from the subjugation force.
‘The deeper they push into uncharted territory, the more undead they encounter—and the variants are diversifying.’
Thankfully, casualties remained low thanks to the soldiers efforts, but the battles were growing tougher. Yesterday alone had seen three skirmishes.
Sera was now embedded with the force. Her presence had reportedly made advances smoother.
‘Bet that raised some eyebrows.’
Everyone knew her as an alchemist—no one expected her to be a mage.
<Skills>
―Herbalism (Novice) Lv.5
―Alchemy (Intermediate) Lv.8
―Potion Crafting (Intermediate) Lv.9
―Magical Theory (Intermediate) Lv.1
―Elemental Magic (Intermediate) Lv.2
―Destruction Magic (Intermediate) Lv.2
―Support Magic (Intermediate) Lv.2
―Mana Boost Lv.1
―Mana Control Lv.1
‘She even unlocked new skills in combat?’
Mana Boost (passive): Increases spell potency by 2 and reduces cast time.
Mana Control (passive): Improves MP efficiency, reducing spell costs.
‘Talent truly is unfair.’
Mana Boost required killing one enemy with magic, then six more within 10 seconds. Sera had managed that in just three days.
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