Chapter 93 The Infected
At every barrier she raised, Althea gave the same instruction: “Go inside. Lock the doors. Do not leave. The cursed cannot enter the light.”
Soon, groups of survivors were huddling in the glowing houses, the golden light marking safe zones amid the darkness. Rudy and Ben shouted themselves hoarse, herding more villagers toward the inn and pointing to the glowing shelters as the only safe places left.
Althea, breathing hard, pressed her palm to her chest. Her power was being drained quickly, but when she looked around and saw terrified families finally taking shelter, she knew she couldn’t stop… not yet.
At another side of the town, Gavriel cut down another infected with one swing of his sword, its blood spraying against the dirt. His men pushed forward, trying to contain the spread, but it was clear the town was sinking into chaos.
Then, from a distance, something caught his eye.
“Alpha!” one of his scouts called, pointing toward the opposite direction. “Look there!”
Gavriel’s gaze narrowed. Across the town, glowing domes of golden light shimmered like beacons. They were scattered across the houses and around the inn, each pulsing faintly but standing strong against the infected that clawed uselessly at the barriers.
Another guard rushed toward him, panting heavily. “Alpha… reports say your breeder—Lady Althea—she created them. The barriers. She’s guiding survivors inside.”
For the first time that night, Gavriel’s mask of cold control cracked. His jaw tightened, and he cursed under his breath. Without a second thought, he barked, “Form two squads to secure the east and west gates. The rest of you, follow me!”
His strides were swift and purposeful as he moved toward the glow.
Meanwhile, Althea staggered slightly as she finished casting yet another barrier over a row of homes. Her vision blurred at the edges, and her breathing was shallow. Each spell drained her faster than the last, yet she forced herself to stand tall.
“My Lady, behind you!” Ben shouted. He swung his weapon hard, cutting through an infected that lunged too close. Trudis fought beside him, blades flashing as she cut down another that tried to reach Althea.
Melva, though less skilled, had grabbed a short blade and struck down an infected that had crawled too close to Althea. “Don’t you dare touch her!” she cried, her arms trembling but steady enough to land the blow.
Althea stumbled back, her knees weak. She raised her hand again, but her energy flickered, the glow at her fingertips fading. Her chest heaved as she tried to pull strength from within but nothing came.
And then, before she could react, an infected leapt at her, its teeth bared and its claws stretched forward.
Althea froze, too drained to defend herself. But in that instant, a blur shot past her. An ordinary wolf collided with the infected mid-air. Its fur shimmered black and white, glowing faintly as it tore into the creature with crushing force. The infected screeched, then fell silent beneath the wolf’s jaws.
Althea gasped, her eyes wide as she stared at the small standing protectively in front of her. Its coat glimmered under the torchlight, an otherworldly mix of shadows and light.
The wolf growled low, daring any other infected to come close.
Althea pressed a hand to her chest, forcing herself to steady her breathing. She shut her eyes for a moment and reached inward. She whispered the words her mother had once taught her and let the world around her answer.
The wind stirred gently, the earth hummed beneath her feet, and the faint warmth of the flames nearby seeped into her veins.
Slowly, her strength began to return. The golden light returned to her palms, faint but steady.
From the other side of the street, a man wearing a cloak stood frozen, watching her. His eyes widened as he saw Althea drawing energy directly from the elements—the wind, the earth, even the faintest sparks of fire. It was something rare, something only those with true, untapped power could ever achieve.
“That girl…” he murmured to himself, astonished. “She’s truly something far greater.”
And as the wolf stood guard before her, Althea opened her eyes once more, her strength renewed, ready to cast more protective barriers.
After casting a few more barriers at houses, she stood in the middle of the street, her palms glowing faintly as she forced her shaky body to hold its ground. The shimmering wolf growled beside her never left her side, its fangs bared, ready to strike at anything that dared come close.
SHe let out a weak smile and hummed, “Such a good wolf. Thank you.”
But then, shadows shifted. One by one, the infected began to circle her. Dozens of them—snarling, drooling, their eyes clouded with madness—closed in from every side. Their movements were erratic, but their intent was clear: tear her apart.
Althea swallowed hard, forcing her trembling hands to rise. “Not here… not now,” she whispered to herself. She summoned light to her fingertips, the faint barrier beginning to spark but she knew she couldn’t hold them all off. Her body shook, her energy already strained from the countless domes she had cast earlier.
The wolf snarled and lunged at the first infected that tried to break through, sending it crashing into the dirt with a sickening crunch. Yet for every one that fell, two more appeared. The circle tightened.
Her heart hammered. She knew she could fall here.
And then—
A storm of power crashed into the street.
“ENOUGH!”
The voice was a thunderclap that froze even the cursed. The air itself seemed to bow under the weight of authority. Gavriel burst through the circle of infected, his eyes glowing like molten gold, his sword blazing with savage light.
In one swing, he cleaved three infected clean in half, their bodies collapsing before they even had a chance to scream.
Althea staggered back, her knees weak with relief as she watched him cut through the mob with terrifying precision. Each strike was final, merciless, as though the very earth yielded to his wrath.
The wolf glanced at him once, then stepped back, as if acknowledging his dominance.
Gavriel’s gaze landed on Althea—sharp, furious, but laced with something deeper again. He surged toward her, cutting down the last two infectees that tried to leap at her. Blood sprayed across the stones, and then silence fell for a heartbeat.
“You reckless little fool,” Gavriel growled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her behind him. “I told Rudy to keep you inside the inn.” His grip was rough, but his eyes betrayed the fear that had gripped him when he saw her surrounded.