Pilgrims Of The Dying World - Chapter 61

Chapter 61: Despair

Everything was somehow greyer in the eyes of Li Song; like the corpses, they weren’t red or how they were before their deaths, no, grey. The kind of grey that was just an hour away, before the sunset, to become black.

Army of the dead, army of grey. What a wonderful fight, what a wonderful day. It will be engraved in legends.

Graves will cover these hills, but not for too long.

Ha-ha!

Though Li Song, jumping away from a guandao that sliced a tree in two, sending the trunk far away, crushing several of its grey kind. Thinking about it now, good thing they were grey. They were easier to distinguish that way.

Li Song smiled and lifted his hands, and two walls of earth protruded from the ground and crashed the General, that half-rotten corpse, eyeless and holes-full, between. And again and again and again.

“Do you like it, General?”

He shouted and jumped away, when guandao, also so grey after burning so bright not long ago, slashed at him again.

The earth crashes, an explosion sounded, and the force of the strike made Du Fu’s hand fell off.

Didn’t bothered the late General, sadly. Roaring like a wounded beast it ran at Li Song with his fist. And Li Song meet this fist with his fist, and a crash sounded and both flew to the sides.

“Ha-ha, strong as ever, general!”

The youth laughed. And then he stood up and still, full of laughter, ran at the animal before himself, for another struggle.

All the death around was of no concern for him now, the pain and lighting and rain, rain of blood that so often moistened his face were of no concern to the thick clouds hiding his rational self somewhere deep, deep inside.

In fact, he was so busy being not concerned of them that didn’t notice a rough undead running at him with a long spear ahead; didn’t notice until a familiar silhouette, shouting with a familiar voice, jumped between them.

“Young master!”

Sounded again, but now more harshly than ever, and the poor boy and the undead stopped. The mind of Li Song also froze. Slowed down to the point when he could hear his every heartbeat and the long time between them.

He saw. Feng fell to his knees, then lower. The spear of the dead-man was dripping with blood.

The next second the undead was lying deader than ever, and Feng was lying in his hands.

“Kh, young master”

He struggled to say, his long black hair in blood and mud, while face that of a village kid he was playing with in childhood.

“Feng, you, you will be alright, I swear. Come on, where the wound, show me.”

The mask of insanity, so convenient, vanished like a smoke. At once, his armor became heavy on his shoulders.

“Come on I say, show me the wound!”

“No, no need young master. Just, find a way out, tell Miss Li, I I”

The light vanished in the boy’s eyes, and his head weakly fell.

A moment of silence followed, as long as it could on a battlefield, and then Li Song finally looked around.

The situation was terrible; they were pushed back, and what’s more, were not even trying to retaliate. The army of dead was pressing the soldiers to the black wall blocking their way out, and them, with their spirits lost after the death of Du Fu, so short, so laughable, couldn’t do anything meaningful but to fight in a fashion not much different from that of these brain-rotten beings.

He was not an exception, at least until now.

Now, however, everything has changed.

Li Song clenched his teeth and stood up, like a pillar of calmness amidst the storming sea of blood, his bronze armor shining in the gold light of the evening.

“Organize; stick to the living, not everything is lost yet!”

He shouted, amplifying his voice with the little Qi he had left after countless struggles with the corpse of the general. Where was it, by the way? Ah, no matter, he won’t recognize him without his weapon anyway at this point.

“Uhg.”

Suddenly, something twitched beside his legs. Instinctually Li Song lifted his boot to immediately crash the skull of his best friend, (now it wasn’t a shame to admit) and send him off but before that

“Wait, wait, Young Master.”

Said his high voice and Li Song did wait. The dead kind can’t speak, they learned that much.

“Feng, are you alive?”

He asked, still astonished.

“Yes, young master.”

Said the boy, crawling away from the dreadful shiny boot.

“I was pretending to be dead, to help you, young master. You clearly were losing your mind and I thought a bit of emotional impact could get you back into shape.”

“A, so that how it is.”

“Yes, young master, that how it is. Isn’t I’m clever”

Before he could finish his phrase, a heavy bronze boot connected with his face.

“What did I say about having no scars? Well, have two.”

The boot connected more.

And more.

And more

“Shorry, youngh mashter”

Struggled to say the half-dead servant.

“Stand up already, and help me to organize people.”

Said Li Song, suddenly turning back and punching the head off a lizard-man into the distance.

“Tell them to get as far as we can from that being.”

He glanced at the dark shadow in the sky, so much more ominous after the battle they had witnessed half an hour ago.

“What is he doing?”

Something unfamiliar appeared in the sky, a new darkness. Feng also glanced at it, and so did all the soldiers around who weren’t fighting with the undead. Not many of them.

A bad premonition appeared inside of everyone in that short second that the darkness was present. Was it some new technique that this thing was going to finish them off with?

However, before they get to their answer

Boom!

A new explosion followed and the sky was swallowed by a thick layer of darkness.

The evening became night.