Skilled users of cold weapons were all familiar with the vital points on the human body, and even those who were not especially used to cold weapons generally knew to aim their thrusts at the neck or abdomen.
But to be honest, even if you did not choose those well-known vital points and merely swung the blade in your hand at random, you might still stab some weak spot even you did not know about.
Humans were simply too frail. They had no thick fur or fat for protection, no fangs or claws, and the entire torso was filled with vital points. A stab anywhere could cause a fatal wound.
Then why could such a species become the existence at the top of the food chain?
The answer was tools, intelligence, and inheritance.
"Strike fast," Konrad Curze said. "Zombies are very weak. Monsters."
He paused, then handed the dagger in his hand to a half-grown boy, who looked up at him in awe and only realized after quite a while that the gesture meant he was supposed to take the knife.
"If you have no choice but to fight them at close range, then remember one thing. The only weakness of these moving rotten things is their heads."
He pointed at the zombie tied to the metal target not far away. It snarled as it looked this way, its orange-yellow eyes filled with malicious greed, drawing an unhappy grumble from deep in the Night Haunter's throat.
"...Go try it."
Konrad Curze said to the half-grown boy in military uniform, "Grip it tight, but not too tight. Keep it comfortable. Forward grip or reverse grip, either is fine, as long as you can drive the blade into its brain. Its bones haven't been reinforced. On the contrary, they've become very fragile