YM778.TV Chapter 15.1: Orc Zombie
Now then, on to chapter 15!
It was a well-known fact that following the war, mass disarmament took place in all countries of Vastonia.
Whether they were the victors or the losers, everyone adjusted their level of military down to an amount stipulated in the peace treaty in order to avoid sparking another conflict.
Though the number of troops were predetermined, it didn’t mean they were even. The nations of the ex-Federation had now far less strength than the nations of the ex-Alliance.
The Siwanasi Forest Army was born from that reorganizing, set up in anticipation of a potential Orcish uprising or a Human invasion.
The troops were divided in two battalions, one on the Orcish front, another on the Human’s.
The 1st Battalion was mainly made up of archers, and numbered around 700 soldiers, while the 2nd Battalion included mostly magical soldiers, and counted about 500 mages.
Those who remained in the armed forces after the disarmament were either career soldiers, who had no marketable skill save for their talent on the battlefield, or the elites, who were kept in the military due to their superior abilities.
In other words, the standing armies of every nation were composed of the cream-of-the-crop.
This was even more true for the Elves, who, due to their long lifespan, did not have to spend time and resources training the next generation and took that opportunity to better themselves even further.
Their army had nearly no new recruits – only veterans who had fought up until the end of the war.
And so, 500 elites who had lived through the fiercest battles set out towards the depths of Siwanasi Forest.
This was a truly exaggerated number of boots on the ground for what should be a relatively easy zombie cleanup operation.
Lich or no lich, a mere hundred Elves should have been more than enough.
However, this was a choice born from experience – the Elven army had learned that it was better to be safe than sorry.
They would always be exceedingly cautious, never underestimate their enemy and attack with utmost ferocity when the opportunity presents itself.
Arriving at the site of the zombie outbreak, Lieutenant General Calendula, the head of the 2nd Battalion, began his reconnaissance.
Ten scout platoons were radially deployed around the main unit, engraving magic circles into the soft earth every 100 meters.
These magic circles would alert the caster if it detected any movement within 50 meters of its location, though it would lose effective after a few minutes.
If no threat were detected, the battalion would move another 50 meters forward and recall the scouts.
After returning to resupply, the scouts would once again radially move out and engrave more magic circles.
This maneuver was done until contact was made.
“Arrow Three reporting in. Enemy spotted. Five zombies, three skeletons.”
“Acknowledged. Destroy them.”
The instant an enemy was spotted, the scouting party’s role changed. They became a strike force, working in tandem with the main unit to surround, isolate, and take out the target – divide and conquer.
This sequence was called the “Elven Arrow”, a traditional Elven tactic.
“Arrow Six reporting in. Enemy leader spotted. One Lich, over 100 skeletons!”
“Acknowledged! Regroup with the main unit. We’ll destroy the Lich and annihilate the undead.”
The Elven Arrow tactic had many weaknesses, such as a lack of flexibility.
It was, however, the optimal strategy for eradicating zombies.
“Thank for coming, Lady Thunder Sonia.”
“Hmph, just leave it to me! I’ve killed tons of Liches before. This’ll be a piece of cake.”
Thunder Sonia’s confident voice echoed through the forest, her words raising the Battalion’s morale.
It had been just over three years since the Elven Army last fought a Battalion-sized battle.
But nobody was worried.
After all, they were only facing a bunch of slow, dumb, lumbering undead.
Everyone here was a hardened veteran that had survived the war.
Not only that, but they even had Thunder Sonia at their side.
The Hero’s power could turn even the most disadvantageous engagement into a splendid victory.
The mission’s success was assured.
The Elves’ initial anxiety had completely disappeared, replaced with the giddiness of getting to kill zombies.
This operation would be a walk in the park.
“All troops, commence the attack!”
“Oooooh!”
A battle cry rang out as the Elves charged into combat.
The Elven Army had estimated that they had an overwhelming chance at victory.
They had more than enough of both troops and skill.
The commanding officer was talented in all manners of war and was both intelligent and stoic. Their morale was high, but nobody was foolish enough to recklessly rush towards the win. Slow and steady won the race.
Their tactics were perfectly adapted to exploit the undeath’s weaknesses.
There was no reason for them to lose.
However, they had made one single miscalculation.
They had forgotten who’s corpses lay dead under the dirt of Siwanasi Forest.
Meanwhile…
In an unlit, far flung corner of Siwanasi Forest.
Under the quiet shade of an immense tree.
Behind the scouting lines.
The ground suddenly swelled, slinging dust and dirt into the air.
Something rose up from down under.
As it lifted itself upright, wet soil fell of its body in chunks, hitting the earth with a dull thud.
It stood at nearly three meters tall.
A humongous shadow.
The silhouette was humanoid in shape, and a dark red glow shone out of its eyes.
It was a zombie.
The undead’s head perked up as turned to survey his surroundings before stopping, having noticed something in the distance.
“OH, HO, HO, HO! … Warriors! Do you see that!”
Its voice echoed all throughout Siwanasi Forest – a deep, raspy voice that sounded like it came from abyss of hell itself.
“I can see them now! A whole army of those wretched Elves! Look, men! See the back of the cowards who lurk in the darkness! See the scum whom we weren’t able to spot that faithful day!”
This zombie must have had a tremendous body before its untimely death.
It had a huge physique, standing at nearly three meters in height. Its arms and legs were like built like logs, and its muscles, though rotten and torn, were still as tough as steel.
Its left arm was gone from the elbow down, and its right hand held a massive steel hammer, more akin to a brutish chunk of raw ore than a proper weapon.
The zombie laughed, making the rusty armor hanging on its shoulder rattle.
“Look, men! Behold! Don’t you think this is a wonderful view, boys?”
Then, a low rumble shook the earth.
One by one, zombies broke through the dirt to stand behind him.
Not one. Not two. Not three.
Hundreds upon hundreds of zombies rose to answer their leader’s call.
A veritable horde of undead.
Many of them were missing an eye, and some and none at all.
But the mystical red glow emanating from the depths of their eye sockets allowed them to see.
They were facing the same direction. All watching the same thing.
The only thing reflected in their magical vision was the hated Elven Army.
“Rejoice, men! Laugh, as fate has granted us the opportunity to redeem ourselves! Laugh, as destiny has allowed us to avenge our humiliation!”
The gigantic zombie raised his hammer as he shouted.
In response, the others lifted their weapons as well.
Broken axes. Shattered swords. Rotten spears.
Relics of war that had long since been buried beneath the earth.
However, therein said relics dwelled an eerie, crimson glow.
“And let us be grateful our benefactor! Let us give our thanks to the wily Gunda Guza for giving us all a second chance!”
There was no response from the surrounding zombies.
Most undead did not speak – vocal cords were a privilege of the living.
At most, they could moan or groan.
Those that could vocalize their thought were either higher beings…
Either that, or they’re very well-trained zombies.
“And let us repent! Let us be sorry for treating Gunda Guza so coldly, and not heeding his words until it was too late!”
They understood now.
They understood the importance of stealth.
They understood that they should move quietly and slay their enemies without making a sound.
Yes, just like the Elves once did to them.
Their brains were rotten, and they had no ability to think.
But their bodies.
Their bodies remembered everything.
They could still feel the agony of having their neck snapped in the dead of night. The torment of having their heart stabbed by icy steel. The pain in every breath from a punctured lung.
Now, it was their turn.
“Onwards, warriors! March! Together, we will crush these abominable Elves once and for all!”
On the giant zombie’s orders, the horde began to move.
Quickly, and silently.