Chapter 67: Feast of the Dead (2)

Chapter 67: Feast of the Dead (2)

At least, he hopes nothing happens until they finish harvesting the wheat...... With that in mind, the captain watched the progress of their mission.

In the end, there was nothing out of the ordinary, except for some signs that people had been living in the village until very recently, as if they had suddenly disappeared. It was creepy, no doubt, but at any rate, there was no obstacle to their work. Then whats left was to finish their job quickly. The soldiers of the requisitioning unit let the guards maintain a defensive perimeter while three hundred of them began to harvest the fields.

"......Man, the wheat looks awful."

One of the soldiers suddenly said. Even though St. Gallen was known as the land of forests and elite soldiers, before they became soldiers, they had been regular people. And farmers were the largest proportion of the commoner population. This man who was sent to harvest wheat had been a farmer before the war.

Even from the point of view of a soldier who had been a farmer, the wheat in this village looked to be of poor quality.

"Not so good, huh?"

The soldier next to him, who was working with unskilled hands, responded without a second thought. Perhaps this was a townsfolk without farming experience. The farmer replied with a slight sense of superiority.

"Oh. The stalks are blackened, and the ears are too low. Not something that usually comes from the fields of Arquell. Our fields at home can produce much better stuff than this."

"Seriously? So the food we're going to eat from now on is going to be barley porridge and bread made from this useless wheat? I'm losing my appetite already."

"Dont be greedy. We're running out of food. It's better to have some food in the mouth than none at all."

In fact, the only food they ate during the journey was a small amount of rock hard black bread, and hot water with salt dissolved in it, which they touted as soup. This was due to their food reserves being burnt. They have no choice but to restock their food reserves with wheat from this village.

The former farmer shrugged.

"Anyway, let's eat what we can, get stronger, and then think about grabbing better food. After all, it's the Arquellians hogging all the food that was supposed to go to us."

"That's right. The pig I stole the other day was so fat and tasty. That's what real food from the west is like, isn't it?"

"Pig! How did you get such good food? Where did you dip your hands into?"

"Shhh! You're talking too loud! ...... You know, the last time we attacked a village, I didn't tell the captain but"

While the soldiers were working with their hands, they were having such an enjoyable conversation.

"Leave it......"

There was a sudden whisper from somewhere.

The two soldiers came to a halt immediately.

"Hey, were you saying something?"

"N-no......, wasn't that someone else?"

They looked around, but all the soldiers around them were engrossed in harvesting. None of the other soldiers were looking at them, and with the sound they were making while harvesting, a whisper couldnt have made it to them from the others.

A shiver went down their spines.

They recall the rumours that the villagers had mysteriously vanished. A strange and unknown voice would of course make them start imagining things.

They stopped their harvest and looked around in a panicked attempt to find the source of the whisper.

"Hey......"

A hand with a terrifying and cold sensation was on his ankle. A chill of blood crawled up from beneath my body. The discomfort made him want to jump up and down, but he could not do that with his leg held strongly by something.

"W-What's wrong!"

"What is it! Hey! What happened!"

As if in response to the voices of his companions and the captain, the owner of the hand tried to make its appearance.

An eerie earth-trembling sound was made as something crawled out as if emerging from a grave.

The bloodless, dirt-coloured skin dripped with decomposing juice. The breath that came from it was white, but clearly without the warmth of a normal human. From the chapped lips and slack hanging tongue from its uneven teeth, it hardly looked like an intelligence possessing thing. In fact, there was no reflection in its eyes, which had been opened so wide that they looked as if they were about to fall out. Its narrowed pupils squirming around like caterpillars, looked as if they harboured an enmity against the living.

It was a zombie. A moving corpse. A kind of undead, the most unholy and filthy race of all monsters.

"It's a monster! There's a monster!"

The soldier, who was fortunate enough not to be grabbed by the filthy hand, warned the others around him.

But it was an exercise in futility.

Rustle.

Rumble.

Bop, bop, bop, bop, bop!

From everywhere in the wheat field, there was the sound of the ground being dug up from below. Dozens and dozens of rotting hands rose up as an unholy harvest.

"Leave the wheat alone ......"

"Leeeeeeeave it......"

"Leave ittttttt......."

"Zombies!"

"Where did this horde of zombies come from?"

The zombies were appearing one after another as the evening darkness encroached. There was no need to warn the rest. The other soldiers could already see zombies appearing everywhere. The horrifying sight caused them to tense and freeze up.

"T-These are?"

The plump captain was stunned by the voices of the zombies.

The soldier laughed scornfully.

"What are you scared of, captain? They may be numerous, but they're just zombies!"

The soldier had been equally flustered, but raised his voice as a means to rouse himself, and slashed at the zombie that was still holding onto the other soldier's leg.

Zombies belonged to the lower class of undead. Since they were mere moving corpses, their combat power was only a hair's breadth above that of the living things from which they originated. In other words, a human zombie could be defeated in the same way as a human. Since they were already dead, there were no vital points to aim for, but because they were not alive, their movements were slow and jerky. It was not an opponent that a soldier could not defeat.

What's more, they were St. Gallenians that had to survive battling monsters on a daily basis. There was no need to be afraid of mere zombies. If they were, it was only because of their ugliness and filthiness.