The Sequel to the Romance Fantasy Was a Zombie Apocalypse – Chapter 97

Running.

Across the pristine white snow.

With her red-tinted blonde hair flying, the young lady of the House of Herta runs with all her might toward the long-awaited reunion.

The calls of the guide behind her, the worried voice of a friend, even the shout of her beloved butler no longer reached her.

Wobble-

“Oops-”

Thud.

She stumbled and fell, but the thickly piled snow caught her gently.

Esmela, as if she hadn’t fallen at all, quickly got back up.

Throwing off her cumbersome coat, she grit her teeth and pushed forward, brushing the snow from her eyes as she headed toward the village visible before her.

The path to the village, just about 1km away, felt endlessly distant to Esmela.

Having run and run, she finally entered the village clustered with log cabins.

“…”

However, the eerie silence that greeted her, devoid of any human presence, left Esmela bewildered, glancing around.

Had she come to the wrong place? Or had everyone already left due to some circumstance?

As an uneasy premonition she wished to avoid began to creep into her heart—

“…Esmela, young lady?”

At long last, a voice pierced the silence.

The first person Esmela encountered was a freckled young woman, freshly an adult, wearing glasses.

With a thick coat and a basket in hand, she seemed to be carrying something, but upon seeing Esmela, she stared at her, initially in shock.

Then slowly, as she recognized Esmela, her eyes widened in amazement—

“Esmela, young lady!?”

Her jaw dropped completely, expressing utter disbelief on her youthful face.

So startled, the basket she was holding fell to the ground as she rushed toward Esmela in an instant.

“Oh my, is it really you, young lady?! I can’t believe it…”

She tightly grasped Esmela’s hands, babbling away, either welcoming her or confirming if it was indeed Esmela.

Esmela remembered that girl.

Three years ago, she was a young girl working as a maid-in-training at the mansion.

Lanit had told her the name, but it was definitely Tina.

Esmela found herself blankly staring at Tina’s face, lost in thought.

“What’s going on, Tina?”

As if alerted by Tina’s commotion, people began to peek out from within the village.

And upon confirming the identity of the figure with Tina, their faces mirrored the same overwhelming surprise, spreading like a contagion.

Tears brimmed in Esmela’s eyes.

They were all familiar faces from her memories.

One by one, she recognized the faces of the maids, the butler, and even those rare knights who worked at the mansion.

As she pushed through the crowd to comprehend what was happening, Helinante, rushing out to find out the situation, spotted Esmela and exclaimed,

“Head Butler, no, House Head, bring the Head!”

Surprised to see her, he nearly stumbled but dashed off somewhere.

Soon after, the people began to gather around Esmela.

Some were in tears, while others wore blank expressions as if they couldn’t process what was happening, each welcoming Esmela in their own way.

And just when they were sharing that emotional reunion—

“Esmela?”

Ah, finally.

A low, weak voice.

Yet, it rang clear in Esmela’s ears, a voice she had missed dearly.

The servants surrounding Esmela recognized the owner of that voice and promptly parted the way.

From beyond the crowd, a middle-aged man approached, staggering as he walked.

Seeing him looking much skinnier and more worn than Esmela remembered, she couldn’t help but let the tears flow.

Now, what was there to hesitate about?

“Esmela!”

Towards the voice calling her, Esmela sprinted with all her might—

“Papa!”

Like a little girl jumping into her father’s arms, she flung herself into his embrace with all her strength.

The onlookers remained silent, just watching with warm eyes.

The other three, who had arrived just after Esmela, also saw her happy face in the Duke’s arms and said,

“…Should we just watch for a moment?”

Following Lanit’s suggestion, Tikhah and Arit, a bit awkwardly, were led away to another building.

Once everyone exchanged greetings, Lanit followed Esmela and the House Head into a large log cabin.

Opening the creaky wooden door and moving down a narrow hallway, Lanit finally entered what seemed to be a combined living room and kitchen.

Inside, the House Head and Esmela were waiting, alongside the Head Butler and Helinante, who welcomed him warmly.

“Kid. You’re alive.”

“Senpai, are you crying?”

“No! …Yes! I am! Welcome back, you brat!”

Wiping tears away with his left hand, Helinante embraced Lanit tightly, overwhelmed with emotion.

“Thank you for your hard work, Lanit. Truly.”

The Head Butler, Zikhaim, as always concise, yet this time spoke with a rare warmth, praising Lanit’s efforts.

Lanit exchanged greetings with them, observing the changes in their faces.

Helinante’s severed right hand was still just as it had been.

Perhaps he hadn’t shaved, as a rough beard dotted his chin, and his once-smooth skin seemed a bit coarse now.

In contrast, the butler maintained his usual pristine appearance, hair neatly brushed back and beard well-trimmed.

Though even he couldn’t escape the passage of time, and looked a bit thinner compared to how Lanit remembered him three years ago.

“Lanit. Come over here.”

Then, the House Head’s voice echoed, prompting Lanit to turn toward them.

Sitting side by side on two creaky wooden chairs, Esmela tightly held the House Head’s right hand with her left, refusing to let go.

As Lanit’s gaze shifted between the House Head beside Esmela and the others around them—

“…”

This time, a wry smile came across Lanit’s face.

Everyone he had encountered in the village had slightly changed over the three years, yet the House Head’s transformation was far more severe.

The magnificent red beard that once covered his jaw and philtrum had lost its sheen and care, now untamed and wild.

His sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks gave him a frail appearance.

The dignified demeanor he once had had diminished as if the flames of his spirit had extinguished.

And scattered about the room were various indistinguishable bottles of liquor that hadn’t been cleared away.

Lanit could easily imagine how the House Head had lived after losing Esmela.

“…I’m sorry to show you this sorry state, Lanit.”

The House Head picked up on the meaning behind Lanit’s wry smile, awkwardly making excuses.

“Haha.”

Lanit threw a light smile at the House Head and replied,

“Isn’t it enough to just start anew from now on?”

He shared his joke laced with encouragement.

After finishing the brief conversation with the House Head, Lanit turned to look at Esmela again.

“…”

Esmela wore a kinder smile than any expression he had seen before, gazing at the House Head’s face.

In that bittersweet gaze, which mixed joy from their reunion with sorrow from seeing the House Head, Lanit was slightly startled to see that she could express such feelings too.

“What’s with that look?”

Of course, when she turned back toward Lanit, her expression carried the same mischievousness as before, which reassured him.

Esmela, with a petulant face, turned away.

Lanit had already guessed that her embarrassment came from showing her true feelings so openly.

It was just a matter of quietly sharing a smile with each other.

As Lanit smiled at Esmela, she shyly diverted her gaze, her cheeks flushed, while the House Head and others looked on with contented expressions.

That night, a small banquet was held at Herta’s settlement.

Given the harsh land, all they could offer their delighted guest were boiled meat they had saved for preservation and a few pieces of snow hare brought in from a hasty hunt.

But that was more than enough.

In the center of the village, they piled up firewood high to create a large bonfire, and people gathered around, celebrating.

Tikhah, seemingly having become close with the servants, was loudly chattering away, drinking from the bottles.

Arit sat slightly away from Esmela, silently watching her interact with others.

The servants, tipsy from the alcohol, had loosened up, forming groups as they welcomed Esmela and Lanit with slurred words.

House Head Tereed downed yet another drink. However, unlike before, this drink tasted of sweet joy.

The two, Lanit and Esmela, absorbed every single scene unfolding before them.

And at last, once the villagers had drained every last drop from their bottles and the bonfire had burned down to a simmering glow, the two faced each other, sharing bright smiles.