Following the trail of decaying and rotten fluids left by the pair of infected Goblins, the third Goblin still laid motionless on the floor. A pool of cold blood surrounded it's deceased body, seeping into the soil of the cave. Their soulless, hazy eyes gazing into nothing.
The damp air was cold. Impossibly cold, making a wandering bat flutter along, seeking warmer parts of the cave. It squeaked and chirped, mapping the cave with it's echolocation. But the noises produced from the small mammal awoke something even worse than the cold.
Pop
One of the Goblin's fingers suddenly curled unnaturally.
The atmosphere shifted. From the quiet, respectful place of a creature's final moments, to an unnerving scene of twitching muscles and growing, puss-dripping masses. The Goblin snapped awake and abruptly stood up, fueled by a monstrous force, it's eyes regaining their light. But it wasn't the same, lively glow that all beings had. It was sinister... evil... and hungry.
As it's bloodshot eyes darted around frantically like a predator that was cornered, it suddenly locked onto the trails of it's previous attackers. An animalistic look took over it's torn and scratched features, bloody foam beginning to froth around what remained of it's lips.
Grraaaagh!
With a violent shudder that made it's spine bend at an impossible angle, the Goblin sprinted forward in a frenzy. Uncoordinated and enraged, it slammed against the cave walls multiple times, leaving splotches of blood in it's wake.
—————
[-----]
Occupation: King
You have been reincarnated into a position of absolute power. With great power, comes great responsibility. You must lead your devoted followers to victory against the horde that hungers.
As such, your mind has been slightly altered to suit your new position as King.
[-----]
"Huh... So that's why I'm feeling a bit more stoic than normal."
After going through his system, trying to find any info that he missed, Damien unintentionally focused on the Occupation tab, making a new screen appear before him.
"...But with these effects... Am I still me, though?"
A beat of silence passed before Damien shook his head, dispelling the doubt creeping into his mind. He can worry about his changing psyche later.
Soon exiting the Occupation page after reading through it a second time, Damien went back to the Summoning Market.
"How do I go about this..."
Having wiped away most of the bloody remnants of his previous kills off his armor, Damien tapped a finger against his chin. Dropping the blood-soaked patch of moss he used as a makeshift tissue, he used his free hand to prop up his zweihander on the ground and leaned his weight against it.
"I only have 20 gold coins so I can't really buy much... should I just buy two footmen?" He asked himself, as he read through his options on the system screen.
[-----]
Welcome to the Summoning Market!
[Infantry] - 1 New Category Unlocked!
Peasant Militia - 10 Coins
[LOCKED]
[LOCKED]
[LOCKED]
...
[Ranged] - 1 New Category Unlocked!
Peasant Archer - 20 Coins
[LOCKED]
[LOCKED]
[LOCKED]
...
[-----]
Quickly scanning through the item market, Damien shook his head at the prices. Each item was around the same price as a Peasant Militia. A broadsword having the same price tag as a living, breathing soldier? Really?
Glancing down at his unique gear only made Damien's initial thoughts more concrete. "I don't even have much use of anything in the item market right now..."
"Not feeling hungry or thirsty either... So militia it is."
Mentally pressing the Peasant Militia option, the screen shifted and inquired about the amount of militia. Putting 2 in the tab, the system confirmed it then momentarily disappeared, only to reappear in the form of a bright, glowing blue circle on the floor, from which materialized two men in black gambesons lined with yellow stitchings. They gave off an aura of proud servitude, with grizzly physiques and controlled tones fit for mature, hardened men.
"Your majesty," The pair of militiamen kneeled before Damien, their eyes kept respectfully on the floor.
Damien carefully assessed the two. Other than their kettle helmets, the militiamen didn't have any other noticeable armor, wearing only a gambeson and padded leather boots and gloves. Each of them also held a spear a couple of feet taller than themselves, tipped with metal blades on either side, with one head noticeably larger than the other. Although Damien didn't really know much about medieval equipment, he could tell the soldiers and their weapons were of quality.
"No need to kneel, I'm no royalty. And no need to call me 'your majesty', just call me whatever. It's weird to hear you two say that." Damien ordered, watching as the two men rose to their feet and saluted him by clutching their right fist to their hearts.
"Yes, sir."
Damien felt a bit uncanny about his two summons. While they looked, spoke, and seemed human, deep down, he could feel that they weren't exactly normal.
The way they stared at him with disciplined, yet unending trust even though he did nothing to deserve it made Damien feel a sense of lacking. It was because of this, he didn't really like seeing them kneel down and speak to him as if he's a King, putting themselves below him.
"What're your names?" Damien asked, dismissing their salute with a wave of his hand.
"We do not have one, sir." One of them replied. Now that Damien had a proper look at them, the two looked to be in their late 20's. Still young, but he could see slight wrinkles beginning to form.
"No names...? That won't do." Damien said, shaking his head in disagreement. "Your names will be... Jonah and Micah."
Snapping at attention once more, the pair saluted. "Jonah and Micah at your service, my liege."
Jonah and Micah, from the twelve minor prophets from the Christian theology. While Damien wasn't really much of a religious person himself, his mother was. So this was an homage to her, wherever she may be in his previous world.
"Just sir will be fine..." Damien sighed. It seemed like he'll have a hard time getting rid of their pre-existing habit.
"Anyways, you two." Damien began, lifting his zweihander to point at the opposite direction of the trail of blood the previous pair of Goblins left. "I'd like to get out of this creepy place if we can, what do you guys think?"
Briefly glancing at each other, the militiamen nodded at him. "By your orders, sir."
—Gwaargkh!
Hearing a sudden, distant growl, Damien's eyes flashed with familiarity as his gaze went from the two soldiers to the darkness of the cave. "Right on time, let's see what you guys can do."
Rounding the corner, the infected Goblin came sprinting into view, slamming into a wall. Momentarily dazed, it's eyes set upon the three humans in armor, a monstrous snarl exiting it's mouth.
Charging forward, what remained of the Goblin's primal intelligence couldn't understand why Damien stayed still, as if waiting for his fate. But hunger overpowered the last vestiges of reason.
Then as the Goblin came closer, two spears reached over either shoulder of Damien and stabbed into the infected's body. With it's momentum still pushing itself forward, the Goblin felt its feet losing their grip on the floor, before being slammed down into the dirt by the two militiamen.
"Aim for the head. The only way I found to kill these things is by destroying the brain." Damien said, killing the writhing vermin by bringing the tip of his blade down onto it's eye, piercing through the soft tissue.
[You have killed an -Infected Goblin-]
[You have been rewarded with 10 Coins and 5 EXP Points.]
'Not as scary as the first time… I'm getting used to this.'
Flicking away the blood, Damien then turned to the two militiamen, nodding as they pulled their spears from the corpse.
"Alright, let's go. Time's ticking."
—————
"Sir, three more coming from the front!"
"Leave them to the archers, no need to risk getting bit."
An hour has passed ever since Damien led his men through the cave's winding corridors, through narrow passages and wide open caverns. Cutting down infected here and there, Damien grew his forces to 17, ten of whom are Peasant Archers.
He found two things about his new environment worth noting. First, was the soldiers themselves. While yes, they could still feel tired and fatigued, that wasn't the main thing Damien noticed.
Even though they were loyal, they weren't blind fanatics. When he said unreasonable orders, like having an archer pull out their sword and engage in melee, Jonah and Micah approached him and advised against it, albeit respectfully. But Damien knew this was a good thing. He was barely even an adult, so he knew he shouldn't be given that much authority. Lord knows what kind of stupid decisions his still naive mind could come up with.
The second, were the zombies. Although he only fought against Goblins till now, they came in various levels of danger. The most fresh of the living corpses were the fastest and generally the strongest, being able to sprint or jog, while those more decomposed could only hobble or stagger forward.
"Fire!"
[You have killed an -Infected Goblin- (3x)]
[You have been rewarded with 30 Coins and 15 EXP Points.]
With this newest kill, Damien's coin bank, which was always at 0 due to him always summoning new soldiers, was raised back up to 30.
As a volley of arrows struck down the trio of infected, Damien went back to his Summoning Market and glanced between the gathered soldiers and the letters on the screen. Having to control two entirely different groups of soldiers, with different tactics and roles, was beginning to be time-consuming. He needed to have a system, even if it's a rudimentary one, to ease his workload.
"Jonah, Micah... and you, I need to speak to you." Damien called out the two soldiers he was most familiar with, along with an archer who seemed to act somewhat of an elder, due to his slightly older age compared to the rest of his peers. "I'm promoting all three of you as my Lieutenants. Micah, You'll be my second. Jonah, you'll lead the peasant militia on the front. And you..."
Damien's words trailed off as he realized he hadn't given anyone else outside of his first two summons any names. He'll have to change this later. "Malachi. You'll be Malachi from now on, I'll trust you to lead the archers."
Malachi saluted at his superior's words. His fist thumping against his chest. "By your will, sir."
Nodding at his subordinate's words, Damien turned his attention to the Summoning Market and summoned a single Peasant Archer and Militia, watching as the magic circle's glow brightened the cave momentarily.
Confident in his troops which were now over a dozen strong, Damien then turned to their newest obstacle. Which was a sheer cliff as tall as two men. "Don't let your guard down! We're gonna reach the surface any moment now, so keep at it a bit more!"
"Jonah, Micah, lift me up." Damien said, as he stepped forward and gripped his sword tightly.
"...Must it be you, sir?" Jonah asked, quickly followed by Micah. "Sir I advise against it. Who knows what's up there."
Damien, already expecting this, raised up his helmet just enough so that his eyes were visible. "I'm the only one here with a complete set of armor, so if anything attacks me, I should be safe. And you all know how tough this thing is, right?" He said, tapping his chest plate with the pommel of his sword. "Besides, it's time for me to step up. I've just been hiding behind you guys all this time, that doesn't sit well with me. And even if there's something up there, it would've jumped down by now with all the noise we're making."
Jonah was about to say a retort, before pursing his lips at his lord's determined expression. "...Very well my liege. Micah,"
Nodding at each other, the two Lieutenant's braced their backs against the cliff's surface and readied their hands. Taking a moment to suck in a deep breath, Damien released it all in one go and sprinted towards the two, before leaping at the last moment and catching his feet against their hands. Being launched upwards, he then gripped the edge all the strength he could muster, before hauling himself up.
"My Lord! Are you alright?"
Quickly glancing around him, Damien spotted what looked to be light pouring out of a small hole in the distance. It wasn't as bright as sunlight, so it must've come from the moon. Looking down at his troop's calm, yet somewhat worried expressions, Damien raised a thumbs up. "I'm fine! The areas clear. Get yourselves up here."
Gripping his zweihander tightly, Damien then made his way to the opening at the end of the cave. The skies were dark yet clear, the countless numbers of stars twinkling like diamonds on a chandelier. At the center of it all, was a large, bright blue moon, completing the serene lunar backdrop.
The trees ruffled and swayed as a gentle breeze swept through them, causing loose leaves to dance around Damien. The air, which once held a sour tang, now held the fresh smell of grass and earthly springs. The ground beneath his feet crunched, filling the silent atmosphere with a steady march. If Damien didn't know any better, if only he didn't know that this world was ending due to a toxic virus, he would've stopped and took a break surrounded by the comfortable quiet.
"...Beautiful." Damien muttered beneath his breath, as if he was being careful not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere.
Spotting what looked to be buildings in the distance situated at the opening of a wide valley, Damien looked over his shoulder at his men, who were still in the process of helping each other up. "Once everyone's ready, we'll head for the village down there. But keep your eyes peeled, who knows what's out here."