The ancient walls of Lincheng glimmered with a dark bluish hue under the fading light of dusk. Traces of rusted arrowheads from a hundred years ago still lingered in the cracks between the bricks. Li Guanglong stood atop the battlements, his military boots grinding against the hardened scabs of dried blood with a chilling crunch. The saber at his waist had just drawn blood. Droplets slid from the blade’s edge and froze upon touching the icy wall. “Roll the fire oil barrels up to the parapet!” Li Guanglong roared, his face fierce and savage. “Machine gunners, stand ready! Fire only when those beasts are within a hundred meters!” Below the wall, the zombie horde surged like a black tide. Grayish arms waved and writhed in the dim light. The zombies in front had already worn their nails to the nub, yet they continued to claw at the walls frantically, sending fragments of stone raining down. A few particularly tall zombies stepped on the bodies of their kind, trying to climb upward. ...
The final trace of golden light at Dustin’s fingertips faded as the head of the last zombie at the warehouse entrance disintegrated into dust. Thick, dark brown liquid splattered across the mottled bluestone floor, emitting a nauseating stench. Li Juntang leaned on his broken spear, his chest heaving violently. Shards of zombie bones were still embedded in the dents of his armor. He looked over the sea of fallen zombies, then turned to the white figure ahead. His eyes were filled with the relief and gratitude of a man who had narrowly escaped death. “Thank you, senior, for saving us. I will never forget this life-saving grace.” Li Juntang bowed deeply with clasped hands toward the figure in white floating above. Dustin’s white robe was untouched by filth. His gaze, sharp as an eagle’s, swept across the scattered remains of zombies. His brows furrowed slightly. “These were just small fry. Where is the real zombie horde?” Li Juntang’s expression turned grim at once. He looked southward t...