The Genesis of the Dead

Zoran didn't wait for a response as he opened Maveth's door and entered, indifferent to any approval or disapproval. Despite the cloud of accusations that lingered in his mind, he refrained from immediate action. This could be an opportunity to buy time for the Chief and the fleeing villagers. Instead of attacking right away, Zoran chose to sit down and have a brief conversation.

The storm outside created an eerie soundscape that echoed through the confined space, adding an almost otherworldly tension to the atmosphere. Both men sat in silence for a moment, neither speaking nor moving. The scene reminded Zoran of the night he and Maveth had spent in a similar stillness, waiting for one of them to act first. Breaking the heavy silence, Zoran spoke.

"I've got some things on my mind. Do you mind answering me truthfully?" Zoran asked, hoping to dispel the questions that had been troubling him.

"Very well," Maveth replied curtly, his voice carrying its usual monotone.

"Good. I appreciate the honesty. So, those things in the woods, I'm assuming you're connected to them?" Zoran's tone was nonchalant, though his mind still swirled with confusion over what exactly those creatures were.

"Yes, that is accurate. May I ask how you came to that conclusion?" Maveth inquired, intrigued by how Zoran had pieced things together so quickly.

"I wasn't entirely certain; it was more of a hunch. Remember how I freaked out when I first saw you? That was because I had felt something similar before but couldn't place it. This morning, it finally clicked. It was the feeling of impending death, that spine-tingling, mind-numbing sensation you get when you're a breath away from the end. I had felt it once a long time ago, but I had forgotten until I met you. Then, I felt it again when your beast attacked me. Speaking of which, what the hell was that thing?" Zoran asked, his voice laced with curiosity and residual irritation.

"That particular creature is known as a ghoul. I'm surprised it survived fighting someone of your caliber," Maveth responded.

"It caught me off guard. That won't happen again. But I've got to ask, why are you doing this?"

Lightning illuminated the room for a brief moment, followed by a thunderclap that momentarily halted their tense exchange. Both men seemed to search for understanding, but neither found satisfaction in the other's answers.

"It is my purpose," Maveth finally stated.

"Your purpose?"

"Yes. It is the reason for my existence."

"Your reason, huh? Care to elaborate?"

"On this particular topic, I do not."

"Your reason to exist, that's a little funny to me."

"I fail to see the humor."

"In order to have a reason to exist, you have to know why you that reason exist's in the first place. When I was younger, I thought my purpose was to guard the city I was born in, and I took pride in that. Later, I realized that it wasn't truly my purpose. It was a purpose given to me by someone else. It took me years to figure out what my real reason was."

"You claim that one's purpose can only be valid if they understand the reason behind it?"

"No, kid. A purpose doesn't need to be understood or even make sense. But a reason should be something you discover for yourself, not something you blindly accept as the reason you were born."

"I have yet to mention my origin," Maveth pointed out.

"You didn't need to. Your actions speak louder than words."

The storm roared again, forcing a pause in their conversation. Maveth's mind churned with thoughts about his purpose, about whether it was truly his own or merely something imposed upon him.

"You mentioned you discovered a worthwhile purpose. What is it?" Maveth's usually steady voice wavered slightly.

"That's the thing, one's purpose is personal. I'll keep that to myself," Zoran replied.

"I see. That's unfortunate."

"Maveth, I don't know the specifics of why you're doing this, but ask yourself this, whose song are you dancing to? Your own, or someone else's?"

The storm seemed to intensify, with winds howling furiously against the building.

"I've got one last question for you," Zoran said as he rose to his feet.

Maveth also stood and replied, "Very well."

"You had the chance to kill me after I used my ability on that Twintails, but you didn't. Instead, you saved me. Why?"

"You possessed information I required."

"See, that's the part I don't get. If that was your goal, why save the girl?"

Maveth's mind froze momentarily, caught off guard by the question. After a few seconds, he answered, "It was to more effectively obtain information." Yet, even as he said it, he wasn't certain whether his words were true or a lie.

"Hmmm, got it. Then it seems we were never people in your eyes, just objectives and tools ro be used. Good, in that case, I won't feel too guilty about this." Zoran steadied himself, his voice cold and resolute. With movements faster than Maveth had ever seen, Zoran swung his spear with such force that the thin walls of the hut shattered and splintered under the impact.

Maveth had no time to react and was sent flying outside by the crushing blow. By the time he rose to his feet, the hut that had served as his temporary shelter was nothing more than a heap of debris. Zoran emerged from the wreckage, walking calmly, yet with murder burning in his eyes.

"My assumption was correct. One on one, my chances of victory are slim. Thankfully, I thought ahead," Maveth said, his voice retruned to the same emotionless monotone as always. Raising his hands, the tide of battle shifted dramatically.

Heavy, thunderous footsteps echoed from behind him as a familiar yet transformed beast came into view. Perched on its back was an ivory skeleton, far larger and more menacing than any Zoran had seen earlier before. Quickly raised his spear, Zoran blocked the incoming attack and deflecting both the beast and its rider toward Maveth.

Maveth dodged with precision, and the two new combatants took positions at his flanks. The skeleton was a Tier 2, more advanced and lethal than the ones Zoran had encountered previously. Meanwhile, the othera Tier 2 Zombeast. was a grotesque undead version of the Twintails creature Zoran had once slain.

Zoran adjusted his stance, readying himself as the fight transformed from a one-on-one duel into a brutal three-on-one battle, placing him at a severe disadvantage. Little did he know, Maveth's raised hand had set even darker forces into motion.

Meanwhile, just before Zoran and Maveth's confrontation, Orros had begun the evacuation efforts. The entire village population of 226 people trudged through the relentless rain, speaking in hushed whispers. Confusion hung heavy in the air, but when the Chief explained that the order came from Zoran, the villagers grew silent, their obedience fueled by fear of whatever their protector couldn't handle.

Among the evacuees stood an old man with muscular arms and fiery red hair, handing out newly forged spears to several villagers. Known as Old Man Red, he was in a foul mood. His work had been interrupted, his joints ached in the downpour, and now he found himself amid a crisis. After distributing the last spear, he approached Orros, his face twisted in irritation.

"You'd better explain this mess, Or!" he barked.

"Now's not the time, Red. We have to keep moving," Orros replied, his tone firm but rushed.

"Then what the hell are we waiting for? Let's go, you useless sack of slugs!" Red snapped, setting off as briskly as his age would allow. The villagers followed, hastening their migration toward the nearest city.

As the group passed by the graveyard, a sudden cry of alarm broke the tense silence. Red turned to shout, "Shut up back there!" But the string of insults died in his throat as he saw several hands breaking through the wet soil. Bodies clawed their way out of their earthy prisons, rising to join the world of the living once more.

"Everyone, get behind me!" the Chief commanded, herding the villagers away from the emerging corpses.

"What the hell are you doing, you stupid bag of beetles? Get out of here!" Red hollered, pulling a well-worn but sturdy smithing hammer from his bag.

"Red, thi—" Orros began, but the old blacksmith cut him off. "Get them out of here, you crate of crickets! I'll hold them off myself if I have to! Anyone with some backbone is welcome to join me! Let's show these things what life was like before Zoran fixed all our problems!"

Red's fiery speech reignited the courage of several villagers who had trained under Zoran. Gripping their newly minted spears, they stepped forward, joining him in facing the growing horde of undead.

"You waiting for tea? Get going!" Red barked at Orros.

"I'll see you after this mess, you insufferable bastard!" Orros shot back as he led the others to safety. But in the chaotic urgency of the situation, the Chief made a grave mistake, his group of civilians was heading straight toward the forest.