The woods were not far from the camp, and the two men and their horse reached its entrance in no time. Pale skeletons lay scattered across the ground, and the corpse of red-haired Joe, with only half a head left, was pinned to the grass by several arrows. Other than that, there was nothing around them.
Hal and Hake's bodies had vanished?
Unas hurriedly dismounted to investigate. The two bodies really were gone. An inexplicable fear gripped him. Who would steal their bodies?
"This is Joe." Gordon dismounted as well and recognized his former comrade. His long red hair was a distinctive feature.
"Yes. He turned into a zombie and killed Hal. Then I cut him down. After that, Hake was shot dead by skeleton archers. My heavy armor got me through it, and I eventually killed all the skeleton soldiers," Unas recounted.
"Where are Hal and Hake's bodies? Why didn't you resurrect them at the time?" Gordon asked in confusion.
Seeing that Gordon suspected him, Unas grew anxious. "I tried twice, but both attempts failed. You have to believe me!"
"Their bodies were right here." He pointed to a bloodstained patch of grass. "I put them here myself!"
"Don't worry, of course I believe you." Gordon crouched down to examine the grass closely. "Judging by the marks on the ground, they seem to have gotten up and left on their own."
"Gotten up on their own... Could they have been resurrected too?"
"Resurrected in another sense, perhaps." Gordon let out a long sigh. "They were probably infected with the plague and turned into undead creatures."
Unas froze. Only now did he understand the horror of the Undead Plague. It could turn humans into their mortal enemies in such a short time.
"Should we go after them?"
"There's no need. Although my wounds have healed, my body is still weak, and you look like you've reached your limit too. The wilderness is extremely dangerous at night." Gordon gazed into the darkness in the distance. "Let them begin another 'life.'"
"Let's take care of Joe's body first." He entered the camp and gathered up armfuls of firewood, apparently preparing to burn Joe's body.
Unas helped too. The two piled firewood over Joe's body and poured a little pine oil on it. Gordon took a torch and lit the pyre, and a blazing fire quickly sprang up.
"His name was Joe Bus. He came from Galen County. He was a good man and an excellent ranger. As always, he fulfilled his duty. He followed the guidance of the Holy Light, fighting through hardship until the very end. And now, he has finally returned to the embrace of the Holy Light. Holy Light above!"
After the eulogy, Gordon murmured a prayer. This "former Paladin" was still a devout believer in the Holy Light.
Unas yawned. The string of upheavals since his transmigration seemed finally to have come to an end, and overwhelming drowsiness swept over him. Without disturbing Gordon, who was kneeling in prayer, he picked a tent and fell asleep as soon as he lay down.
In the morning, long-absent sunlight streamed through the mountain woods, dispersing the thin white mist. Birds chirped merrily as the early risers began searching for food. The peaceful scene made it seem as though last night's fierce battle had been nothing but a nightmare.
Unas was jolted awake by a clamor. He had been so exhausted the night before that he had fallen asleep without removing his armor, and the hard steel had left his waist and back aching. He stretched with all his might, his bones cracking. His legs began to tingle, and he could barely stand.
He struggled out of the tent and was greeted by a dazzling flash of red. Five soldiers were confronting Gordon in the middle of the camp. They all wore bright red tabards and held their warhorses by the reins. It seemed the men who had left camp on patrol had finally returned. Counting on them really had been unrealistic; they had only made it back at daybreak.
Calling it a confrontation was a bit of an exaggeration. It was more accurate to say Gordon was questioning them while they offered no resistance. Apart from the fat man in the lead, the others all had their heads lowered.
Beads of sweat the size of beans rolled down the fat bastard's forehead, and the flesh on his face trembled constantly as he appeared to be desperately defending himself.
Unas suddenly emerged from the tent, drawing everyone's attention. The fat bastard turned and pointed at him in surprise, his lips fluttering. "Who are you? Why are you wearing my armor?"
So this fat bastard was Captain Parrion, whom Hal had mentioned? No wonder he didn't like wearing this armor. With his build, he might not have fit into it even if it were two sizes bigger.
Before Unas could speak, Gordon answered for him. "This is the Paladin Unas-Lawugade. Without his help, I would already be a corpse."
"So it's Lord Unas." The fat bastard changed his tune quickly. "I'm Perrien Gosling, captain of the North Maple Legion's Ninth Squad. Pleased to meet you."
"Me too." Unas had to offer a perfunctory response.
"May I ask where you're from, my lord?" The fat bastard ignored Unas's strange words and began trying to get close to him. "You have quite an exotic look."
Unas's East Asian appearance did stand out somewhat. His identity was a problem he had been worrying about, and he didn't know how to answer for the moment.
Fortunately, Gordon came to his rescue in time. "Parrion! I'm in no mood to listen to your idle chatter. Your dereliction of duty indirectly led to Hal and Hake's deaths. Of course, I also bear responsibility for their deaths."
He paused, then spoke more forcefully. "I'll put everything you did in my report. You can wait for the military court to deal with you!"
At Gordon's stern reprimand, the fat bastard stared blankly for a moment, then suddenly plopped down on the ground and burst into loud sobs. "Waaah... I didn't want this to happen either! Waaaah... We're so close to the monastery! Waaaah... It should have been safe!"
He rolled on the ground as he cried. Unas couldn't help wondering, How did this fat bastard become a captain when he handles pressure so badly?
Gordon paid no attention to the fat bastard crying on the ground and shouted an order. "Everyone else, follow me to clean up the battlefield!"
Everyone mounted up, and Unas climbed onto Parrion's horse. It was a sturdy brown steed, with two wild rabbits hanging from its neck. Were those the game he had brought back for Hal and Hake? The fat bastard seemed to have a bit of a conscience after all.
It was Unas's first time riding a horse alone, yet he did it quite smoothly. Perhaps it was because he had learned Apprentice Riding in the game.
He rode alongside Gordon and asked, "Is that fat bastard finished?"
"Hard to say."
"You're going to let him off?" Unas asked in surprise.
"I'm only a ranger knight, not his direct superior. Besides, his father once served under General Abbendis. As long as he hasn't committed a serious crime, no one can touch him."
"Who's General Abbendis? He sounds pretty evil." The name was familiar, but Unas couldn't remember where he had heard it.
"Don't talk nonsense. After Marshal Garithos fell in battle, General Abbendis became the North Maple Legion's highest commander. Although I disagree with many of his methods, there's nothing wrong with a superior looking after the children of a fallen subordinate."
"Garithos"—another familiar name. He was Lordaeron's last marshal, a human-supremacist racist who discriminated against every race other than humans. In the Warcraft III campaign, he had nearly driven Kael'thas, the prince of the high elves, to his death. In the end, he too had been fed to Ghouls by the Dark Lady Sylvanas.
None of that mattered now, though. All Unas knew was that the fat bastard had someone powerful protecting him and was safe for the time being.
The six soon reached last night's battlefield. It was still a mess, with the broken bodies of the Undead scattered across the woodland, and the smell of ash and decay filling the air.
"To prevent the plague from spreading across this land, we need to gather all the remains of the Undead and burn them."
Gordon issued a series of orders, and the soldiers scattered. Some went to gather firewood, while others moved the Ghouls' bodies. Unas was about to help when Gordon called him over.
He stroked the ring on his left hand, seemingly lost in recollection, and spoke softly. "My grandfather's grandfather's grandfather was a fire Archmage. With his powerful magic, he distinguished himself in the Troll Wars and was made a noble. Unfortunately, none of his descendants had a talent for magic. To preserve the glory of his family, he spent half his life making two treasures: an exquisitely crafted magic sword, Firekiss, and a plain, unadorned ring."
"You mean the black ring on your hand?" Unas asked.
"Yes." Gordon paused. Seeing that the soldiers had all scattered into the distance, he answered in a voice only the two of them could hear. "Everyone's attention is drawn to the magnificent Firekiss, but they don't know that the real secret is this inconspicuous ring. It allows someone who knows no magic to control the energy of fire. That is the Flame Knight Family's greatest secret."
Unas's heart pounded. He's told me such an important secret. Is this guy finally going to keep his promise?
Sure enough, Gordon continued, "Last night, when I was about to die, I already gave you this ring. I won't go back on my word. It belongs to you now."
That was what he said, but he didn't seem inclined to take the ring off.
"But fire is very dangerous. If you can't control it properly, you might get burned playing with it. I'll keep the ring safe for you for now. Don't worry, I'll teach you how to use it little by little. I'll hand it over once you've completely mastered it."
Looking at Gordon's earnest expression, Unas found himself unable to argue. All he could do was curse resentfully to himself, The way you're being shameless is just like me back in the day.
If I'd known, I would've yanked that precious ring off him last night.
Just then, a soldier walked over carrying a severed head and saluted them. Pointing at the head in his hand, he said, "Reporting to Lord Gordon, I've seen this face on a bounty notice. He seems to be a wanted necromancer."
"He was indeed a necromancer. His head might fetch a few gold coins. Wrap it up."
"Yes, sir!" The soldier left to carry out the order.
The mention of gold coins reminded Unas of something. An idea struck him, and he silently said, Inventory.
He had hit the mark. A ghostly inventory panel formed from countless rays of light appeared in his mind, exactly like the one in the game. Four sixteen-slot bags gave him a total of sixty-four slots.
Most of the slots were empty, and the few things in them were all junk: linen cloth, damaged XXXs, and the like, all things he had casually picked up while killing monsters.
The most valuable item was probably the Hearthstone. Unas had previously bound it to Sentinel Hill in Westfall. He tried to use it, but nothing happened. It seemed to be broken. If he could fix it, he could escape this godforsaken place surrounded by the Undead immediately, couldn't he?
The bottom-right corner of the panel showed that he still had 485 gold. His main character, a hunter, had sent it to his alt to learn skills and riding. He just didn't know how much 485 gold could buy in this world.
But in any case, having money on hand made him feel much more at ease.