Chapter 17 – 17 Dudu awakens ability

Sylas’s heart almost stopped beating at the scene in front of him.

A horde of zombies blocked the road, surrounding something in the middle, slightly toward the pavement. On the side, a long electric pole and a massive billboard lay fallen on the ground.

Sylas immediately recalled the earlier loud crash of metal falling as his gaze swept over the toppled billboard and electric pole. The road was completely obstructed by the pole, the billboard, and the swarm of zombies.

The ground was littered with messy, bloody footprints left by the zombies.

Sylas’s brain nearly froze. In front of him was a horde of zombies, and behind him, another batch was closing in. Quickly scanning his surroundings, he spotted an alley. His only option was to run toward the unfamiliar passage.

Without hesitation, Sylas turned on his heels and bolted toward the alley, but the zombies behind him were already catching up.

He raised his leg, kicked away a few zombies blocking his path, and sprinted toward the alley. As he ran, he couldn’t help but curse under his breath, thinking that on this day he seemed to have a special affinity with alleys. He had just escaped from one, and now he was racing into another.

The little boy clutched tightly at Sylas’s shirt, his small hands trembling.

Sylas wielded the knives in both hands with skill, slashing at the zombies swarming toward him and blocking his path to the alley. He deftly maneuvered the blades, cutting down the undead one by one. But the noise of the fight was drawing even more zombies in his direction.

Cold sweat dripped down his forehead and temples as he fought relentlessly. He had been on high alert all day, constantly battling zombies. His strength was nearly spent. After all, he was only human.

Sylas roughly shoved aside the zombies closing in on him and sprinted toward the alley. His left arm held the boy securely against his chest while his right hand gripped the knife tightly. With a swift motion, he spun the knife in his hand and hurled it forward. The blade whistled through the air, striking the zombie blocking the alley squarely in the forehead. The zombie stood motionless for a brief moment before slowly toppling backward. Sylas dashed toward it, yanking the knife from the falling corpse, and bolted past it without losing momentum.

As Sylas reached the alley, his foot caught on something, and he stumbled, falling headfirst to the ground. His eyes widened at the sudden turn of events, but without hesitation, he twisted his body to shield the child in his arms, ensuring the boy wouldn’t be hurt. With a heavy thud, Sylas landed on the ground, his left shoulder absorbing the impact.

“Wah… ah…”

The child in his arms began to cry again, the fall clearly distressing him. Despite Sylas’s efforts to protect him, the jolt had affected them both.

“Not good,” Sylas thought grimly as he scrambled to his feet. The horde of zombies and all the nearby zombies immediately turned toward him. The sound of the child’s crying had caught their attention.

Hiss!

Sylas sucked in a cold breath as he staggered to his feet. His left leg and shoulder were both injured from the fall, hindering his movements. Gritting his teeth, he stood upright, gripping the knives tightly in both hands. But as he tried to take another step, his left foot gave out beneath him, threatening to collapse his resolve.

He turned to face the horde of zombies surging toward him. A wave of helplessness washed over him. He hadn’t been able to grab the medical supplies earlier, and now he couldn’t even guarantee the safety of the child in his arms. He couldn’t take him away to a safe place.

No, it wasn’t just that, Sylas realized. There were so many things he couldn’t take with him—things he had to leave behind. The photo frame from his old home, his parents’ pictures, the house he had abandoned, food, water, clothes… All of it was out of reach. He knew clinging to such sentiments was futile. Simply escaping and surviving with his body intact in this apocalyptic world was already a miracle.

But now, it felt as though everything was coming to an end.

He looked down at the child in his arms, still crying uncontrollably. The child’s wails grew even louder as the horde of zombies surged closer. Sylas knew all too well that if he hadn’t taken the child with him, he wouldn’t be in this situation. But even so, he didn’t regret it. He didn’t regret saving the child or taking it with him. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to abandon the baby.

No, I can’t give up so easily, Sylas thought, forcing himself to straighten his back despite the pain. He had to survive. He had to made it out alive from this Pinewood Town and make it to the capital. There was someone waiting for him.

“Kaelith,” Sylas weakly murmured, his voice barely audible. His strength was almost depleted at this moment.

Shaking his head to refocus, Sylas tightened his grip on the knives in his hands. Just as he was about to turn back and run, the little boy in his arms let out a sharp, piercing wail.

Ring…

Sylas instinctively covered his ears, his knives still in his grasp. He stumbled backward as the sound echoed around him, his ears ringing painfully. For a brief moment, the world around him fell silent. Squinting through the disorientation, he looked ahead-and the sight before him made him question if he was dreaming. The horde of zombies that had been closing in on them suddenly froze. Then, one by one, the zombies at the front began to explode, their heads bursting like overripe watermelons. Waves of sound rippled through the air, sweeping over the horde, and more heads continued to explode in quick succession.

Sylas stood in stunned silence, his jaw nearly dropping as the unbelievable scene unfolded.

After a few seconds, the piercing wail began to subside, fading into an eerie quiet.

Sylas slowly lowered his hands from his ears, his hearing still muffled. He looked down at the child in his arms, who now appeared completely drained, weakly closing his eyes as if the energy had been sucked out of him. Panic surged through Sylas. He gently cradled the child closer and called out, “Dudu, Dudu… what’s going on? Hey, baby, can you hear me?”

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