He slung the shotgun over his shoulder and looked at the corpse on the ground. For some reason, Malin still ended up walking to its side, took out a small bottle of liquor, and placed it beside its face.
"Is this... a kind of reminiscence for the dead?"
"Sort of. This fellow named Roben, even though Chaos twisted him, still didn’t forget the principles he once held dear... Even though those principles had been so altered by Chaos as to be unrecognizable... But at least, he could remember."
After Malin finished speaking, he snapped his fingers. The World Tree Saplings lifted Roben’s body, and the next second sacred flames ignited it. As the wind and snow gradually intensified, the existence of the man was finally scattered.
"We have already wasted quite a bit of time, Lord Malin," Eleven said.
"Right, so let’s get moving now," Malin nodded, turned to glance at the fog drawing near, feeling a sense of powerlessness spreading in his heart.
How in the world could this world be saved? What must be done to prevent these Chaos that beguile the heart from descending? Could it be that humanity can only coexist with Chaos, appeasing these damned Evil Gods with the lives of generation after generation?
What should I do? How can I do it? What can I do?
Malin questioned himself but could not find an answer.
The snowstorm grew fiercer. Malin carefully discerned the path while Eleven helped watch their back. He led the team through the silvery-white world.
"Mr. Malin, do you regret giving them the vehicle?" Eleven asked from behind.
Without shaking his head or looking back, Malin simply wiped his goggles and said, "I never regret my actions. Life’s journey is forged by countless choices. If you question yourself with regret after every decision, then life as a human would be too exhausting."
"Your explanation is really interesting, thank you," Eleven’s voice carried an added note of cheer.
"Interesting, is it?" Malin walked around a rock, recalled the path they had taken, raised his hand to blow away the snow in front, and revealed a steep slope: "We’ve strayed a bit off course, we need to head seven degrees northeast."
"Eight degrees. Otherwise, if you walk straight for thirty meters, you will trip over a wooden stake," Eleven added.
"I’ll take your word for it." Malin raised an eyebrow, then patted Bippo peeking out from his belt pouch. The little creature placed a spell formation on Malin that provided resistance to the extreme cold, giving him some relief.
"What a fascinating creature, was it produced in our biological lab?" Eleven was very curious about Bippo.
Malin shook his head: "It comes from another world, and it might be the last survivor of its kind."
"...Chaos’s doing?" Eleven’s voice took on a hint of cold desolation.
"Yes, Chaos’s doing. These damn things are always like that," Malin said, while lifting his assault rifle. A shadowy figure appeared in the snowstorm, prompting him to heighten his alert.
"Infrared spectrum can’t confirm the target, have we got new visitors?" Eleven moved to Malin’s side.
"...Yes, a visitor," Malin responded, seeing the zombie taking shape. He put away the gun, and with a gesture, Fio shot out from his sleeve, allowing the undead manipulated by negative energy to die yet again.
"Corpse walking, what a bizarre world," Eleven followed Malin to stand before the body: "Not a member of the previous squad."
"Judging from the clothes on the body, it looks more like a local... Is this area being contaminated by Subspace?" Truth be told, Malin had never seen anything and couldn’t confirm if that was the case. It’s a pity that the teleportation channel can’t be used, otherwise it would’ve been a good choice to call Ails here, a big shot from the Realm of the Undead, to check the situation.
"My detection system can’t confirm the pollution you mentioned, Lord Malin."
"That’s not your or your creator’s fault. Who could have foreseen this in that era?" Malin said with some resignation. Then he turned to look back at the way they had come: "Many visitors. I have them in front and behind... Seems like someone wants to stall for time. Let’s not linger in combat, on the move. Eleven, you lead the way."
"Leave it to me, my lord. Please follow me," Eleven replied, then sprung out the combat blade from his left arm while drawing the longsword left by the squad leader. He began to run forward: "I’m switching to white-light spectrum view, which can confirm humanoid targets. They are everywhere, my lord."
"What a nuisance. It would be too extravagant to deal with this trash using high-level spell formations," Malin remarked as he followed Eleven and began to run.
Setting the assault rifle to semi-automatic and removing the silencer, Malin first shot and knocked down the approaching zombie on his left, the bullet drilling into its knee, shattering the joint and tripping it. Then, with a strike of his rifle butt, he sent another charging zombie flying—before absolute strength, this cage of the mortal soul weighed no more than a hundred and some odd pounds.
Up ahead, Eleven had already slain several zombies. Miniature projectile systems popped out of his shoulders, and after firing several small ice spears and confirming their ineffectiveness, the AI armor sighed, "Truly walking dead corpses. I hit their skulls and penetrated them, but they act as if nothing happened."