Necromancer, summoning 055? What the heck?

Chapter 358 Overture to the Dead: Cherry Blossoms Fall, Visitors from the Divine Court
Makoto Yasukawa stumbled and turned around, trying to escape the eerie refugee camp.

The young man's hood had long since disappeared, leaving his face exposed to the spring sunshine.

It was a face typical of the eastern inhabitants of the Sea Serpent Kingdom: long, narrow eyebrows and a low nose. At this moment, it was deathly pale, almost ashen, with a plaster-like grayness. Compared to the completely "undead" beings behind it, it seemed even less "human"!
After a short sprint, Yasukawa Makoto was already panting heavily. His chest felt like it was being gripped tightly by a large hand. Each inhale was accompanied by a heavy, drawn-out sound, while his exhales turned into broken, hoarse sounds, as if he were about to spit out his lungs at any moment.

Those who stay indoors all year round, never seeing the light of day, inevitably develop poor health.

Fortunately, these transformed undead were even more sluggish than him.

The zombies of the undead are not known for their agility; they are standard cannon fodder, relying on strength.

Experiments conducted by the Bald Eagle Andrew Institute showed that after absorbing most of the fluid tissue in their bodies, these "SP infected" were greatly enhanced in strength and entered a state of not eating, defecating, sleeping, or resting.

If it weren't for the inability to give them effective instructions, this would be one of the capitalists' favorite groups.

Never strike, never complain, no need for health insurance, and you don't even need minimum wage or rest time!
Let the dead provide material value, and then let the living provide emotional value—this is practically the perfect world in the eyes of capital! One of the bald eagle's theoretical masters has even begun in-depth research in this area, preparing to define a so-called "new era of production relations."

Production can wait; our priority right now is to escape.

Slightly different from the zombie apocalypse depicted in movies and novels, these zombies primarily attack with fists, feet, and rudimentary weapons.

No teeth needed!

Well, it makes sense that teeth are never the main weapon in human fights.

When the anomaly suddenly occurred, there were actually three groups in this camp.

The first category consists of sea snake citizens who have been initially infected by consuming SP synthetic agents intentionally released by bald eagles.

They were immediately transformed by the evil lich, and under the influence of the SP-017 inducer prepared by the white eagle, they completed the process of becoming zombies in just a few minutes.

The second category consists of ordinary people who have never eaten "carved rice" or "pig meat". They are initially confused, then terrified, and then collapse!

The majority of this group consists of women, and the synthetic agent prepared by the bald eagle, which mainly targets the type O gene, is primarily aimed at men in East Aisha State.

But at this moment, they might be better off infected, since zombies don't distinguish between factions and don't attack each other!
In this refugee camp, which was originally intended to be used as a biological testing ground and was surrounded by high walls and iron fences, they had nowhere to escape and could only be captured one by one by the infected, turning into fresh corpses.

They didn't turn into new zombies; low-level undead creatures don't yet have such a powerful ability to infect.

When the native "evil spirit liches" of the Four-Clawed Sea Serpent awaken their skills, that will be the time for them to rise again.

The third category consists of the bald eagles stationed there.

They wore digital camouflage, Ray-Ban sunglasses, chewed gum, and drove Hummers around the camp, swaggering around and brazenly belittling the sea snake refugees.

Under normal circumstances, these soldiers, with machine guns at their sides, control the main access routes. In such a heavily guarded camp, even a large number of infected zombies would not disrupt the order of the military base.

Unfortunately, there are always unexpected events.

Of all these unexpected events, the fall of the military camp was the least surprising.

Because among the black-and-white soldiers of the bald eagles, many of them use certain illegal drugs.

To be precise, it is a drug that is prohibited in Dongxia, but has gradually become legalized or even decriminalized in Bald Eagle.

Negative energy favors those who are mentally fragile and lack willpower, and certain chemicals have already soaked their brains into a sponge saturated with venom. Without any "SP synthesis agent" injection, they are naturally excellent recipients of undead infection.

As the "evil liches" swept over the military camp, at least one-third of the bald eagle soldiers underwent a simultaneous mutation.

The black sergeant, who was lighting a cigarette a second ago, hadn't even extinguished the flame of his lighter when his body began to bend dramatically. Then, when his teammates came over to ask what was wrong, he grabbed the guy's neck and squeezed out his neck bones.

The direct result of this was that the other soldiers quickly broke down, screaming and fleeing this eerie place.

No one knows what the mutation mechanism is here, and no one knows if they will become the next zombie.

They can't even pay their soldiers in full, what's the point of risking their lives like this!
With the military's protective system failing, order collapsed catastrophically. The "SP infected" quickly surrounded and wiped out the uninfected refugees on site, and then began to move towards the vast open world outside the refugee camp.

When high walls blocked their way, they tore down the camp's perimeter wall; when they couldn't pick locks, they forcibly pushed down the metal gates. Numerous zombies, in a brand new guise, blended into this once lifeless era.

Judging from appearances alone, the living are not always more energetic than the dead.

As more and more SP-017 infected individuals rushed out of the camp, they spread through the streets like slowly flowing asphalt, and in an instant, the streets were in chaos.

The zombies were indeed slow, their knees stiffly lifted and their feet heavily placed down, their bodies, lacking lubrication, making a soft "clicking" sound as they rubbed against each other.

The sound was like someone slowly crushing a handful of dry fruit shell residue from a distance.

This unhurried progress is despairing; it will not tire or hesitate until the negative energy is exhausted, but simply fills every inch of space with a constant, mechanical rhythm.

Screams erupted one after another, like dominoes falling in succession.

Yasukawa is on the run.

The owner of the fruit shop next door saw the horde of corpses coming at a glance. The fruit she was peeling in her hand rolled to the ground, and she squeezed out incoherent breaths from her throat.

The deliveryman on his electric bike braked suddenly and fell into the roadside ditch along with his bike.
Windows along the entire street were pushed open one after another, and terrified faces peeked out, only to scream and shrink back in.

A red car, trying to avoid a crowd running around, lost control and crashed into the window of a coffee shop facing the street. Amid the sound of shattering glass, people holding cups stood frozen in shock.

Yasukawa Makoto continued his escape.

When he escaped, he was hoping to be rescued, but now he felt that probably no one would care about him.

The police car that held all his hopes was speeding away, but was swerved by another car coming from the opposite direction and crashed into a fire hydrant on the side of the street.

A thick column of water shot skyward, then fell in a flurry, scattering a colorful rainbow in the air. The water droplets sparkled in the sunlight, splashing onto Yasukawa Makoto's hair and cheeks, leaving a cool, refreshing feeling.

Yasukawa wiped his cheek and sped away.

Not far ahead, a mother was curled up on the balcony, holding her baby, her back pressed tightly against the door, trying to block the repeated impacts from behind, while the baby in her arms let out a loud cry.

A man in pajamas on the rooftop stepped over the railing, glanced back at the dark figures surging up into the stairwell, yelled, and leaped off, crashing onto the roof of an SUV below like a heavy sack. With a muffled thud, the car's alarm blared piercingly.

Yasukawa is desperately trying to escape.

A middle school boy carrying a backpack grabbed the wrist of the girl he liked and ran wildly in the same direction in front of An Chuan. Both of them seemed to have many wounds from shards of broken glass, and drops of red blood were splattered all the way.

Those who knew they couldn't escape, wielding canes, umbrella handles, brooms, and baseball bats, screamed and tried to fight back and kill the monsters blocking their way. However, the undead infected were unmoved. Even with their heads knocked off balance, they continued to relentlessly approach.

A woman in high heels tripped and fell while running away. As she backed away, she threw her seemingly expensive handbag at the infected person who was reaching out to grab her, all the while letting out incoherent screams.

"Don't come any closer! Get away! This bag is very expensive!"

As the chain of the handbag broke, various small, miscellaneous items scattered all over the ground.

The infected creature didn't appreciate any of this; it simply grabbed her ankle in silence, snapped it off, and began dragging her towards the denser horde of corpses. The woman's fingers scratched the ground in vain, leaving several bloody marks.

Yasukawa is almost too slow to run anymore.

My vision began to blur, my ears were ringing, and the world seemed to be shrouded in a layer of mist.

The air was thick with the smells of blood, gasoline, dust, and the stench of spilled human tissue…

Slow-motion slaughter and rapid-fire collapse intertwine repeatedly in the same frame; the sounds of order crumbling are so noisy, yet so monotonous—nothing more than crying, shouting, crashing, shattering, and the dying wails. The spring sunshine remains bright, even somewhat dazzling.

The horde of zombies, with its own unique, unhurried rhythm, was devouring this ordinary afternoon.

Finally, the infantry fighting vehicle came into view ahead.

Overjoyed, Yasukawa raised his hand and shouted with all his might, "Help! Please! Please save me!"

His voice was hoarse and cracked, yet filled with the ecstatic joy of surviving a catastrophe, before a burst of bullets struck his body.

The comic book he had been clutching tightly to his chest was now smashed into many pieces, the pages mixed with black ink and red liquid, fluttering and scattering in the air, much like the fallen cherry blossoms of his hometown.

A blood-stained page slowly fell, covering his eyes, which were gradually losing focus but refused to close. In that panel, the comic book protagonist was showing a bright smile and making a victory sign.

This is an order from Kenichiro Kishi: seal off the infected area and strictly prohibit any infected person from escaping.

At this moment, the Ghost Temple Lich, a former soldier, and the Serpent Kingdom King, a descendant soldier, exchanged a high-five across the distance.

These lowly sea serpent people either died at the hands of the previous generation of rulers or at the hands of the next generation of rulers; their fate has never changed.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

On the distant Starry Continent, Chen Mo was arguing with Farrell, a special envoy from the Divine Court.

The appearance of the sea creatures on land brought a great shock to Rainbow City, a shock no less than the last time we witnessed the explosion of a super weapon.

How dare?
how come?
How to do?
Farrell had no choice but to set off again in an emergency, chasing after Lord Chen Mo all the way from the Vast Sea to the White Deer Plain. After a long period of trying to contact and search, he finally caught up with Lord Chen Mo's elusive pace.

"Respected Lord of the Vast Ocean, I would like to ask you for an explanation as to why sea creatures have appeared in your army?"

"explain?"

Chen Mo greeted him with a smile one moment, but the next his brows furrowed deeply. Xia Yuanchen, standing next to the lord, immediately stepped forward and retorted without hesitation.

"Is my Han Hai Territory subordinate to your Divine Court, or is the White Deer Plain your territory?"

"When the orcs attacked Skyfrost City time and time again, did your esteemed sect ever demand an explanation from them? Did they ever offer an explanation to my Vast Ocean Territory?"

Farrell's eyelid twitched.

Don't let this mixed-race guy's young age and seemingly insignificant position of "Director of the Inspection Department" fool you; anyone with even a slight understanding of the Han Hai Territory knows that he is Chen Mo's staunch confidant.

He took over the vacancy left by Lin Zhong and took control of the external intelligence system of Han Hai Territory. Internally, he presided over the Supervision Department and just carried out a horrifying purge within Han Hai Territory.

There's a saying circulating in Hanhailing these days: "To see the finest craftsmanship, look to Old Ma; to see the best streetlights, look to Xia."

Old Ma was referring to Makaga, the lord's most trusted military commander. The first magnificent temple in the vast sea, the one built with the heads of bandits, was Makaga's masterpiece.

After that, every temple in the vast sea was stained with this guy's bloody handprints to some extent. It is said that when Makaga passed by, even the Black Knight among the dead would give way.

The murderous aura is too strong; I can't withstand it!
Ugh, those bards in the territory, all they do is make up these kinds of stories all day long!
The "Xia" who hangs the streetlights refers to Xia Yuanchen.

This guy is always all smiles and polite, but when he gets physical, he's really ruthless.

At the height of the crackdown, even the "back-shaking street lamp" that Princess Liushuang's unicorn was exclusively equipped with was marked with a "lampkeeper," much to the chagrin of the unicorn, Da Bai.

It is said that some busybodies who tried to curry favor with Prince Liushuang complained to the lord and were hung on the same street lamp the next day.

This self-proclaimed "lord's lackey" naturally couldn't tolerate any offense to the lord.

Farrell took a deep breath and promptly apologized.

"I am very sorry, Your Excellency Lord of the Vast Ocean, I misspoke!"

"It's true, it's true that upon learning of the sea creatures' landing, I was so overwhelmed with emotion that I couldn't control myself!"

"You should know that there is an extremely complex entanglement between humans and sea creatures. The sea creatures' entry into the inland, and into such a deep inland location, will inevitably cause great unease among human nations, so..."

"Priest Farrell!"

Xia Yuanchen interrupted him without any politeness, his face still full of lingering anger: "The orcs have already reached the gates of Cloud Mist City, and I see that the human nations are quite calm! The sea race has only shown their faces briefly in the White Deer Plain, and they are fighting against the orcs, who are the enemies of the human race. Why are they so uneasy?"

"You don't think that orcs are easy to bully, and that we, the people of the Vast Ocean, are easy to bully, so you're discriminating against us, do you?"

A few minutes later, Farrell, who once again sincerely apologized and offered to donate more silver Pegasus horses to the Vast Ocean Territory, finally received the lord's warm hospitality.

Regarding the Sea Clan matter," Chen Mo waved his hand, dismissing Xia Yuanchen, and personally poured Farrell a cup of hot tea, "we should have informed your Holy City beforehand."

"But... there are bad people inside your Holy City."

Farrell paused for a moment as he picked up his teacup.

“I’m worried that if the information is given out in advance, it will be leaked to some people who shouldn’t know it, such as the orcs we are fighting, or... other forces that are not very friendly to the Vast Ocean.”

"Therefore, we can only temporarily control the information; I believe the Holy City will understand!"

You have to understand it even if you don't...

But what Chen Mo said was actually true.

The relationships within the Divine Court are complex and intertwined. Although there is an overall direction, such as containing the Qiyue Dynasty, in the actual execution process, it is almost a habitual and convenient operation to create obstacles for the opponent.

Next, Chen Mo briefly explained the current cooperation model between Han Hai Ling and the Sea Clan.

"You can understand it this way, Priest Farrell: it's because my forces in the Vast Ocean are insufficient and it's too difficult to face the orc army, so I'm hiring sea creatures to fight for me!"

"Yes, an employment relationship!"

"What I paid wasn't just the fee for the sea creatures; we paid a huge price so that they could move on land!"

"These devices that allow sea creatures to access freshwater are not only astronomically expensive to use, but also extremely costly to maintain!"

"You can understand it this way: I requested tens of thousands of divine blessings to give the sea creatures the ability to enter the inland. In fact, your divine court could also do this, but you just couldn't bear to part with it."

Farrell asked again in detail, and even watched the video of the sea creatures changing clothes, before finally breathing a sigh of relief.

Please grant me divine grace. The time limit makes much more sense.

"Very well, thank you for your frankness, Lord. I will report this to the Holy City Bishop immediately, and I hope that our communication can be even closer in the future..."

"Don't rush off!" Chen Mo called out to Farrell as he raised his hand.

"I happen to have a small problem here, and I need the Divine Court's help and advice..."

"If, and I mean if, a heretical temple suddenly becomes a massive undead ruin for some special reason, what would be the safest way to contain it?"

"Could the Divine Court sell a few suitable sacred artifacts?"

(End of this chapter)