The Sequel to the Romance Fantasy Was a Zombie Apocalypse – Chapter 18

Golden hair, glimmering with silver moonlight, fluttered chaotically.

As the full moon gradually tilted toward the horizon, a dance party was held in a clearing within the forest.

The protagonist of this ball was the only living being, the Saintess Arit Radain.

Dozens of the deceased rushed toward the Saintess, seeking a dance that would lead them to death.

However, the Saintess merely stepped lightly, avoiding the touches of these rude dancers as if she were performing acrobatics.

-Gwa, khek!

-Kuaak!

“Ugh…!”

Arit’s mind was as dizzying as her movements to evade the corpses.

‘What on earth is the nature of the spell controlling these beings?’

Starting from the highest purification magic, to spells that release mental domination, detoxification spells, and even just ordinary healing.

The Saintess tried every method of breaking the curses she knew on the corpses, but none of it could liberate them.

It had been approximately 20 minutes since the witch disappeared and the corpses began to move, yet they continued to rush at the Saintess, howling.

Her right hand tightened around the club.

Normally, she would have swung that spiked club mercilessly to guide them to Hadrion by now…

But with the corpses, which she thought were dead, now animated, the Saintess couldn’t relinquish even the faint hope that she could save them.

Arit examined the details of the corpses reaching out to capture her.

Their mouths gaped wide, dripping saliva, and the blood vessels in their eyes had burst, staining the whites red, yet their appearances were undeniably human.

Their clothing resembled that of ordinary villagers one could see anywhere.

Thus, the Saintess could not let go of hope.

If she could only find a way to turn them back, it felt as if they would regain their sanity and return to being people at any moment.

As she continued this futile standoff without an end in sight, Arit’s heart began to fill with resentment towards the deity.

‘Why must I be subjected to such trials…?’

-Kaaak!

“!”

At that moment, a large shadow surged toward Arit from the mass of corpses.

“Kuht!”

In that instant when Arit’s concentration wavered, a corpse with clearly faster movements than the others seized her shoulders with both arms.

-Gwaak.

“Ugh…”

Arit groaned as her shoulders felt as if they might be crushed in that vise-like grip.

-Hyaak!

The corpse bound her movements and aimed to bite her neck—

“…I’m sorry!”

Before the jaw could make contact, Arit bent forward and instead dove into the corpse’s embrace.

“Haht!”

She seized its arm and performed an over-the-shoulder throw.

-Uhg.

The corpse was flung to the ground with a grunt.

Arit quickly backed away, widening the distance.

‘No way…’

Arit, observing the corpse attempting to rise again, was startled.

It was much larger than the average adult male, clad in leather armor favored by hunters, with a short sword strapped to its waist.

Arit was certain it was one of the missing hunters.

“…”

The Saintess finally resolved to abandon her futile hopes.

No matter how saintly she was, as a human, she had her limits.

If she continued to waste stamina on meaningless delays and were caught by another hunter’s corpse like moments ago, she truly would not escape.

Now, the only options left for her were to either die or to kill.

-Kueh…

Wham!

Arit tightened her grip on the club with both hands and smashed the head of a corpse that had rushed at her.

“O God Juten, when I return to your side later, I shall bear this sin.”

At the very least, she would deliver a blow to free the restless dead from suffering.

The Saintess steeled herself to plunge into a battle for the liberation of those suffering before her.

“…After that, it wasn’t very difficult to grant them peace. The corpses of those who were once hunters, well, the zombies were indeed quite the burden.”

With that sentence, Arit’s tale concluded, yet those in the reception room remained silent.

Esmela, having been so engrossed in the story that she forgot to drink her tea, found that the chrysanthemum tea in her cup had cooled down, lacking even steam.

“…Arit. After hearing your story, there’s so much I want to talk to you about, but first, there’s just one thing I want to ask.”

Esmela was the first to break the silence.

“Yes, please speak comfortably.”

“Why didn’t you tell me such an important story yesterday?”

It was a valid question. In the story Arit shared, a figure called the ‘Witch of the Black Dahlia’, clearly a suspicious puppet master, and a stronger variant zombie appeared.

Both were crucial pieces of information needed to grasp the current situation.

“Were there any particular reasons you postponed telling it until today?”

“Um… Not any grand reason, really.”

Esmela raised an eyebrow at Arit’s words.

“Yesterday was definitely not the right atmosphere for sharing such a story, you know? Lord Lanit had already returned to his room.”

“Whether Lanit heard or not, you should have at least told me.”

“However, after witnessing what happened to Lord Lanit yesterday, wouldn’t you, Esmela, also be in no condition to hear such a story? Fidgeting about in the office, asking Lady Elina about Lord Lanit’s well-being every ten minutes?”

I looked at Esmela, surprised by Arit’s words.

“…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I sipped the now-cold chrysanthemum tea, trying to act calm, but I noticed Esmela’s earlobes had turned slightly red.

Truly tsundere. Even in front of me, while she pretended to be annoyed, she must have been worried about her subordinate behind the scenes. I felt a touch of warmth.

“Anyway, it is an important story, but since it’s not an emergency, it might be better for you, Esmela, and for Lord Lanit, to hear it and decide when you are both well.”

“Ahem. Hmm. Got it. Then shall we move on to the main topic?”

Feeling awkward in the face of Arit’s rebuttal, Esmela cleared her throat and hurriedly tried to transition to the next subject.

“Excuse me. May I ask Arit a question for a moment?”

At that moment, the Head Maid made her first proactive contribution to the conversation.

“Oh my, yes. Anything you’d like.”

Arit appeared slightly flustered.

“What color was that girl’s hair?”

“The hair color?”

Arit seemed taken aback by the unexpected question from the Head Maid.

“It was black, but why the sudden question…?”

“…It’s nothing. Just curious, that’s all.”

“? Yes…”

The Head Maid evaded the question, maintaining a blank expression.

But I clearly saw it.

Immediately after, Elina and Esmela exchanged significant glances.

During the subsequent meeting, they speculated about the identity of the black witch or analyzed the stronger zombies compared to other zombies, continuing their discussions, albeit without reaching a clear conclusion.

However, there was a hypothesis that the strength of the zombies might be influenced by the strength of their physiques during their lifetimes.

In the end, they concluded to gather further information on these two points separately, agreeing to discuss them again once enough information was amassed, and thus, the meeting ended.

“Is it already this late…”

As I left the office and returned to the annex, I checked the large grandfather clock placed in the entrance hall, and the hour and minute hands had already pointed to 12.

Grrgle.

Suddenly, hunger rushed in, something I had forgotten.

Come to think of it, since attending the Prince’s wedding yesterday, I hadn’t eaten anything.

“The dining hall must be open, right?”

First things first, let’s fill my stomach.

I began to walk as quickly as I could toward the servant dining room in the annex, without breaking into a run.

The servant dining room of the annex.

A fairly spacious area with long tables attached to chairs, allowing dozens of servants to eat simultaneously, where one goes to the serving area in front of the kitchen to grab food before returning to eat.

…The structure was remarkably similar to a school cafeteria. Whether it was by design or mere coincidence…

Putting aside such pointless thoughts, I quickly picked up a plate from the top of the stacked dishes and headed straight to the serving area.

As usual, I handed my plate to the cook, who stood in front of the large pot of sausages, dressed in a white chef’s uniform.

“…”

But instead of filling my plate with food, the cook gazed at me with a strange expression.

“…? Why is that? Hurry up and serve me.”

Only after urging did the cook slowly retrieve two sausages from the pot and plop them onto my plate.

Something felt off.

It was then that I sensed the stares boring into my back and turned around.

Usually, at meal times, the tables would be crowded with servants grabbing their meals.

However, with over 70% of the servants having exited with the head of the household, the tables were sparsely occupied.

And whether maid or butler, most of them were casting sidelong glances at me and whispering amongst themselves.

Probably due to what happened yesterday, my impression among them seems to have soured.

I can’t say I don’t understand. They had just learned about zombies yesterday. It was only natural that they hold a bad impression of me, given that I stabbed Gilrot even while turning into a zombie…

“…Haa.”

Letting out a small sigh, I presented my plate to the cook beside me and received some pilaf.

For now, there was no particular solution. I had no choice but to wait for the opportunity to clear their misunderstandings to arise someday.

“…”

Sitting alone at a spot distanced from the other servants to eat the meal I had brought, I couldn’t avoid feeling uncomfortable.

I was about to ask for more food out of hunger, but with that attitude from the cooks, it didn’t seem easy to bring it up.

Should I find a garden to sit and eat alone? As I was lost in thought about such things,

“Hey, Personal Butler.”

Before I knew it, someone had approached and plopped down in front of me, placing a plate of food on the table.

“…I told you not to call me that, senior.”

“Sorry~ But at this point, wouldn’t it be easier for you to just give up?”

“Of course, I would.”

I exchanged the usual banter with the person in front of me.

“So, what happened between the wedding and coming to the mansion? Tell me while we eat.”

Clad in the same butler attire as me, the figure asked casually, curiosity evident in their eyes.