Marc stared into the dead eyes and eye-sockets of the horde before him. They didn’t hesitate, like an animal. They just saw the defenders and started running. The second the horde charged, Johann chanted a spell, repeating it multiple times. All of the weapons began glowing blue one by one, each one requiring its own casting. Lord Branka’s mace received the first casting of the spell, and the only casting to finish before the former people were upon them.

  Spectator effect showed them as “Simple Zombies” and “Simple Skeletons”, with no great advantage besides how low-maintenance they were. Each corpse was dressed, seemingly, how it was buried. Humans, Dwarves, Icess, Elves, all united in undeath and their single purpose - to exit the underground. The adventurers were the only thing stopping them. Even the Vault doors were less reinforced from the inside.

  With the aim to break as many bones as possible before some kind of permanent solution was found, he started swinging. The zombies could put themselves back together, but muscle without bone was just meat. The nobleman’s mace seemed to turn them to dust at the touch, and then Berk’s stone blades followed suit. It only took a short while for Marc to realize that, in terms of actual combat, he was easily the weakest link on the front lines. Despite his training with Fray, he had years less experience than the veteran and the nobleman. His axe did little to help, each swing requiring more time to wind up and recover from. He quickly found himself using the spike at the end of the axe, making his weapon a lopsided, far-too-small spear compared to what it should do.

  The skeletons were easier, for all of them. Their bones were brittle, and when they got too close things tended to get caught on them. They were, honestly, more of a help to the defenders than their attackers, especially with how cramped the space was. At least until they clawed at or hugged the defenders, hampering them. They were few and far between among the decayed fleshbags, unfortunately.

  Still, he kept swinging. Each bite, scratch, and punch of the undead brought a new panel into view, which was promptly dismissed by thought alone. Every one of their strikes had a risk, though seemingly low, of disease, and Marc was lucky, or more probably resilient, enough to avoid it. It would be worse if it weren’t for the multiple other combatants behind him, stabbing and forcing back other undead.

  The other two were getting hit as well. Dozens of enemies, with no self preservation, meant that they were guaranteed a lucky hit or two. Berk was, as always, very quick on his feet, even more than before, while Branka’s mace flung the undead in any direction he swung, pushing others out of the way. Even still, they were getting injured.

  Then, all of a sudden, the Axe glowed blue. Johann’s spell had infused it with magic. No longer was he simply hacking through rotten meat and bone with a mundane cleaver. He wound up like a baseball player, and swung as hard as he could. He hit the first one and his eyes widened as he felt no resistance. The axe kept going through more bodies and destroying them, rather than just disabling them temporarily.

  Behind him, Jacky’s spells were focused as much on healing as they were on inflicting damage. Her spells primarily used dirt, which was different enough from stone that she had to lean on water spells to do anything against the undead. Johann was locked into making the weapons they were wielding holy. Lloyd was flinging away at high speeds, greatly enjoying the pair of daggers he’d found with a special enchantment; they returned exactly to the hand they were thrown from. With no need to worry about running out, he was stunning (as it was difficult for him to do more without Johann’s spell) multiple undead each second. Even the second rank heroes were getting pushed back by the glut of bodies.

  The twins were stuck in the back, so untrained in combat that they weren’t even confident throwing things. Instead, they’d taken up the job of bringing potions to Johann or helping Vara with whatever the alchemist needed at the moment.

  Marc swung again and again, sweeping back and forth across the undead. The zombies didn’t put up much of a fight, there were just a lot of them. After 10 minutes or more, Marc saw the monstrosities in the background.

  Giants, or at least giant in stature. Their body parts were still human sized, but they still towered above the others. Each one had Icess antlers on their heads, with some having an extra pair sprouting out of their collarbones. Spectator Effect showed what they were.

  AMALGAM UNDEAD

  A zombie of great strength. Stitched together from the corpses of lesser creatures. Each one is unique and made with love!

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Stitched together from the corpses of who knew how many bodies, and they were getting closer. With each step they crushed their lesser allies, until the line where the undead and living clashed parted. There were far fewer of them, but that wasn’t saying much when each had a dozen or more arms and nearly as many mouths.

  Marc’s first giant grabbed at him with its right arms, only for them to be split and broken by his enchanted axe. Lloyd’s daggers hit into it with the pace of a metal drummer, severing fingers, wrists, and poking out eyes, while Jacky and Johann prepared another spell of some kind. The Spearmen, in Marc’s case Darja, stabbed it as much as possible, but their weapons weren’t dealing nearly as much damage as before. Eventually, it succeeded at grabbing mark, but before it could smash him into its antlers like a frat boy with a beer can, Branka’s animal companion tore the arms off at the. . . one of the elbows.

  He fell to the ground, managing to stand up right in time to face the massive thing’s stomp. Without any other way to avoid it, he brought his axe up above his head to try and outmuscle something thrice his size. Once again he was surprised by an ally’s assistance. A hand grabbed his shoulder and before he knew it he was three feet away. Turning, he saw the staggering form of Theo, suffering from summoning sickness. The boy had a short-range teleportation power. If Marc wasn’t so unaffected by it, he’d be in trouble. As it was, there was a perfect opening right in front of him.

  He took advantage of it, winding up, and cleft straight through the offending leg. The giant came down, and with a whirling axe blade, Marc split the thing’s head down the center. Its face, grayed and decaying, became a pile of dust, while the rest of it crumpled to the ground twitching, as the other bodies weren’t entirely sure they were re-dead yet.

  Looking around, Marc took the moment to look at the other two frontliners. Branka was struggling with his, as his fighting style was not accustomed to enemies so much larger and seemingly immune to the powerful knockback he employed. His House Guard were assisting there, so he was fine for now. Berk, on the other hand, was completely fine. The stone weapons in his hands glowed a bright red, as if they were molten rock, and every few moments they would transform their shape to another weapon. Each one, Berk was just as adept at using, and each time he did his fighting style changed to match what he needed.

  Then, he noticed the giant that put its head down. This one had multiple sets of antlers, and - yep, it was charging him. Marc took a step back, before charging it himself. He had a plan, something he remembered from the spine deer. The others who hadn’t seen what he could do looked on in shock as their defender lept right into harm’s way, then an indigo light filled the vault. As they could see again, Marc was back on the ground, hurt but healable, while the giant was sent tumbling into the darkness of the tunnels.

  Lloyd laughed loud, as Johann and Jacky’s spell finally finished. A pulse of healing magic went off with both Jacky’s faint insect buzzing sensation and an uncomfortable feeling of inner warmth that must be from Johann. Marc looked at his wounds to find they were completely healed, without any of the painful side effects that usually comes from such magic.

  More than that, the enemies were silent. Well, more silent. They didn’t groan or anything, like was stereotypical of zombies, and the skeletons couldn't even do that if they wanted, but their footfalls stopped too. The entire enemy army stopped moving at once. Marc took stock for a moment, but Branka and Berk kept fighting, and so he resumed as well. If they weren’t going to fight back, he wouldn’t complain.

  Another notification tablet appeared, this one much larger and much less irrelevant.

  He’d leveled up. Multiple times, actually, but he only saw this one, rather than the previous level.

  LEVEL 15:

  RSL - 39 + 2

  FCS - 27 + 1

  MGT - 25 (+16) + 0

  FNS - 16 + 1

  LCK - 7 + 0

  He spent a moment glancing at it, but had to keep moving. The undead started shifting away from the center, revealing a figure that immediately shot a projectile into the chest of Lord Vestac. The nobleman staggered back while member’s of the house guard moved to surround him. Marc saw a woman, shorter than him, wearing leather armor dyed pitch black and holding a crossbow. Her blonde hair was streaked with mud and grime, and probably a bit of decaying meat. Her eyes were unforgiving, as if all of them there had personally slighted her in some major way. It took a moment for him to notice her wearing a cape, but the symbol on her armor was one he’d seen before.

  The symbol of the Mortocracy. The one culture he knew of to ever allow undead and necromancy publicly. Whether she was a necromancer herself or not was irrelevant right now.

  If she was as quick to reload as Helen was, they would all already have been hit. Thankfully she was slower, but the mechanism was winding itself faster than a human could. Another bolt was in place as her eyes passed over each of them, they locked on someone behind the frontlines. Lia and Theo said the same thing in unison, “Inquisitor?”. Recognition sparked in her eyes.

  She didn’t change her focus, aiming directly at Theo. Theo, who was next to Marc

  Marc didn’t realize that he had moved until he looked down, and saw the collision course between the bolt and his chest. As he pulled helplessly against the invisible muscle of Estrange, he realized that he’d already used it, mere moments before.

  He did have enough time to register the pain before everything went dark.