Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Crooked Saber of Kook

The resting Sage suddenly opened his eyes, a wave of intense fear surging in his heart. His connection with his personal guard was growing weaker, an ominous sign if ever there was one. During the recent hunt, the backlash from the prey had already severed the link between the Sage and countless controllable zombies under his command. He had assumed that when his own guard encountered the prey, resistance would be futile. Even as the Sage meditated, he never ceased his control over the guard, and thus remained keenly aware that the prey was already battered and bruised, with the companions likely dead. Yet now, inexplicably, his connection to his guard had suddenly waned.

Zhao Qiang had gambled correctly—the brief pause in the assault was indeed the interval during which the Sage’s guard reloaded. Seizing this scant two seconds, Zhao Qiang rushed into the interior of the television tower.

The massive blood loss made Zhao Qiang’s head swim, and though he’d hoped to devise a thorough plan before tackling this formidable foe, witnessing his comrade’s gruesome death and recalling that he might at any moment become a mindless zombie himself, Zhao Qiang could no longer suppress the rage burning in his heart. He shed anything that might hinder his movements, and drew the “Dogleg” blade strapped to his back.

He charged into the tower in one breath, entering a haze where everything was guided solely by instinct and sensation. He neither dodged nor flinched; sharp fangs whistled through the air. Zhao Qiang didn’t even raise his head or look; with a fluid motion, he swung his blade upward. The keen edge struck the fang dead center—a metallic clang sounded, sparks burst mid-air, and the fang split in two, clattering on the ground.

From the shadows, a furry figure glared at Zhao Qiang with blood-red eyes, murderous intent radiating from him. The fangs had been launched from its mouth. The creature drew a sudden breath, its massive body expanding like a balloon, then collapsing swiftly as high-pressure air shot two sharp teeth in rapid succession from its jaws.

Seeing its ranged attack fail, the creature changed tactics, no longer firing desperately. As Zhao Qiang closed in, the furry beast shrank back, then leapt over Zhao Qiang’s head with lightning speed. Zhao Qiang spun and slashed, cutting off only a bare tail.

The beast felt no pain and paid no mind to the wound dealt by its adversary. Agile, it circled Zhao Qiang at incredible speed.

What was this thing? A gust mixed with the stench of corpses swept over him, and Zhao Qiang shuddered, his foggy head clearing slightly. Damn, what kind of monster was this? He was stunned—the creature darting in high-speed circles, with its furry body, was nothing less than a rat magnified hundreds of times.

He finally understood why this creature had an endless supply of ammunition. Rats’ incisors grow ceaselessly from birth until death, never pausing—hence their constant gnawing. This zombie rat, let’s call it the “zombie rodent,” had had its genes enhanced, infinitely amplifying the trait of ever-growing incisors. Its teeth grew at an astonishing rate, granting it terrifying ranged attack abilities.

The zombie rodent’s body was hundreds of times larger than a normal rat, the size of a calf. Yet its agility hadn’t diminished; like the zombie hounds, its speed and endurance had also leapt several levels.

As Zhao Qiang hesitated, the zombie rodent struck again. Zhao Qiang dodged the thunderous attack, slashing with his reversed “Dogleg” blade as he passed. The two opponents separated instantly.

The zombie rodent missed its mark, took a slash to its flank, but was indifferent, shaking its black fur and once more circling Zhao Qiang.

Zhao Qiang fared poorly himself. As the zombie rodent missed its attack in midair, its tail—thick as Zhao Qiang’s arm—swung at him. He hadn’t expected the rat’s tail to become a weapon, and took the blow full on, his face stinging with pain.

Circular attack—what a tactic! Now that he’d identified his opponent, Zhao Qiang hesitated no longer. The “Dogleg” flashed like lightning, slicing directly toward the path of the zombie rodent’s movement.

The black blade gleamed, and a rat’s paw flew off, slowing the zombie rodent. Zhao Qiang lunged in, his two kukri blades whirling like storm clouds. In an instant, rat fur, black blood, flesh, and foul-smelling viscera filled the air in a gruesome dance.

Wiping the blood from his blade with a patch of relatively intact rat hide, Zhao Qiang didn’t even glance at the heap of reeking flesh behind him, but strode upstairs, blade in hand. The murderer who claimed his comrade’s life—the zombie rodent—had been reduced to minced meat, but the mastermind would not escape. Having encountered Sages many times, Zhao Qiang knew this rodent was surely a Sage’s personal guard.

Just as he reached the top floor, the sharp sound of something slicing through air returned—this time, not from the rat’s fangs, but from the Crusher swinging its monstrous arm. Zhao Qiang sidestepped, and the giant hand smashed into the floor before him. Moving swiftly, Zhao Qiang drove his “Dogleg” blade into the Crusher’s elbow joint as soon as the hand hit the ground, pinning the monster to the floor.

The Crusher roared in fury, struggling to rise. The wound on its arm was trivial, but Zhao Qiang did not relent after landing the first blow. As the Crusher raised its other hand to crush him, Zhao Qiang released the blade in his right hand, pivoted on his left foot, and channeled all his strength into the blade in his left hand. With the added momentum, the Crusher’s hand halted halfway up.

A hideous head soared through the air, its enormous maw still opening and closing, attempting to roar its anger. But deprived of its body, the head could only emit a few muffled thuds as it landed.

The Sage was an anomaly in the zombie world, possessing a miraculous and oversized brain that could, through some mysterious means, control nearby zombies and build a formidable force. Yet, this kind of zombie was also the most fragile. Without protection, a Sage was a lamb awaiting slaughter.

Whenever Zhao Qiang killed a Sage, no matter the method, he suffered the Sage’s dying backlash, falling into a deep coma lasting several days. Each time, he dreamt the same dream. Thus, whenever he hunted Sages, Zhao Qiang always traveled with Wei Tao, so that after succumbing to unconsciousness, he would not be exposed to the wild teeming with zombies.

Glancing at the wound inflicted by the zombie rodent, Zhao Qiang felt a wave of exhaustion roll over him. After fighting so long, he was spent. Once he finished off the Sage, he would slip away from this world in the depths of unconsciousness.