It had been a week since Teddy returned to that house. Every day, he forced himself to move—jogging around the empty area, challenging his body to adapt faster to the wild Mana in this world. With every step, he felt the Heart of Mana in his chest pulsing more in sync with his body's rhythm. The heat in his chest, the cold air he breathed, the vibrations of energy around him—all slowly began to merge, though not perfectly yet.
That day, heavy clouds hung low as Teddy jogged leisurely along his usual path. Sweat dripped from his temples, his breathing rhythmic, his mind focused.
But that calm shattered in an instant. Sirens wailed loudly, echoing throughout the city. Teddy stopped running, standing straight, his eyes searching for the source of the sound.
Something felt wrong.
Usually, the siren would sound briefly—a drill or a minor threat. But this time... the sound was long, heavy, vibrating through his chest. A sound that brought a terrible premonition. Soon after, a loudspeaker blared:
"All citizens, evacuate to the bunkers immediately! This is not a drill! Repeat, this is not a drill!"
Instantly, Teddy's instincts kicked in. Without thinking, he turned around and sprinted towards the city's protective wall.
Along the way, he saw citizens running in panic, their faces pale with fear. Children screamed hysterically, women clutched their valuables, men struggled to guide their families toward hidden underground bunkers.
Several soldiers fought to control the chaos, shouting instructions while pointing to hidden entrances.
Teddy pushed through the crowd, ignoring the tightness slowly creeping up his throat.
There was something out there.
Something big.
When he finally reached the top of the wall, his breath was ragged.
The sight before him made his blood freeze.
A sea of zombies.
Countless, stretching all the way to the horizon, moving together like a black wave devouring everything in its path.
But it wasn't just the numbers that made Teddy grip the wall's railing tightly.
It was the way they moved.
Formation. Rhythm. Unity of steps.
As if someone was commanding them.
"This... isn't normal," Teddy muttered in horror.
Before he could process it further, his eyes caught a sight beyond the wall.
A middle-aged man, his body solid like a rock, stood alone facing the horde.
In his hands, a long spear gleamed faintly.
With every swing of his spear, sharp gusts of wind sliced through dozens of zombies at once.
Teddy was transfixed.
The man wasn't just fighting.
He was dancing on the battlefield.
Even as fatigue made his steps falter, the man kept moving swiftly—striking, slamming, slicing—carving gaps into the endless wall of zombies.
Suddenly, from another side, a gunshot rang out.
Bang!
The head of a zombie attempting to ambush the spearman exploded.
Teddy turned, searching for the source of the shot.
Atop the ruins of a collapsed building, a woman with fiery red hair stood boldly.
A semi-automatic rifle in her hands gleamed every time she pulled the trigger.
Each bullet flew with deadly precision, piercing zombies in vital spots, giving the spearman space to keep fighting.
Her red hair whipped wildly in the wind, her face serious yet full of determination.
And somehow, in the middle of the chaos, she turned her gaze.
Her eyes met Teddy's, as if she knew she was being watched from afar.
One second.
Just a fleeting moment.
But it was enough for Teddy to feel like he was staring into a living blaze.
"...They're Arkanists," Teddy whispered, his eyes shining with awe.
The battle beyond the wall was like a bloody orchestra.
The man fought on the frontlines, his spear flashing through the air, while the woman supported him from behind, her bullets composing a deadly melody to accompany his strikes.
The horde kept surging forward, but thanks to their duet, at least the area around them held strong.
However, even though their spirits burned bright, Teddy knew—the number of zombies was overwhelming.
His gaze returned to the ocean of the undead.
And that's when he saw it.
One figure stood tall amidst the crowd—different from the rest.
Its body was thin, draped in tattered robes, its empty eyes somehow controlling the swarm.
Around it, four giant zombies stood guard—their massive bodies covered in layers of flesh like living armor.
"That's it..." Teddy whispered. "The Overseer."
The wind howled fiercely atop the wall, carrying the stench of death.
Teddy gripped the iron railing even tighter.
The real battle was just about to begin.