THE ZOMBIE SYSTEM-Chapter 61 - 60: Iron Will

"Second squad, fall back to defensive line seven!"

Damian’s voice cut through the chaos as his Iron-fang unit fought desperately against the massive stone golems advancing on the middle district. His red hair whipped in the wind created by the creatures’ thunderous steps. Dust and debris filled the air like choking fog.

The crystalline golem towering before them stood ten feet tall, its translucent body carved from pure magical stone. Ancient runes pulsed along its limbs with power that made the air shimmer. Each footfall cracked the street’s foundation stones and sent tremors through nearby buildings.

Damian calculated tactical positions while his squad scrambled for cover. Their heavy armor - Iron-fang’s pride - proved insufficient against A-rank magical attacks. The enchanted steel that deflected normal weapons crumpled like paper under concentrated magical force.

"Commander, the eastern approach is compromised!" Sergeant Willis shouted from behind an overturned transport. Blood streamed from a gash across his forehead where falling debris had caught him. "Third squad requests immediate support!"

The tactical situation was deteriorating faster than Damian could compensate. His twelve-man unit was designed for coordinated assault operations, not defensive stands against creatures that outweighed them by tons. But civilian evacuation routes ran directly through this intersection.

Falling back meant abandoning hundreds of people to certain death.

Damian’s enhancement magic flowed through his blade as he targeted the golem’s obvious weak point - the joint where its massive leg connected to its torso. Silver energy crackled along his sword’s edge, amplifying cutting power beyond normal limits.

He sprinted forward in a burst of magically enhanced speed. His boots found purchase on broken concrete as he leaped toward the creature’s lower leg. The blade struck crystalline armor with explosive force.

Sparks flew in brilliant cascades. The golem’s leg armor cracked but didn’t shatter. Damian landed hard, rolling to avoid the creature’s retaliatory stomp. The street cratered where his body had been seconds before.

"Direct assault ineffective!" he shouted to his squad. "Switch to harassment tactics. Keep it distracted while civilians clear the area!"

Private Korin opened fire with his manna rifle. Concentrated energy bolts struck the golem’s torso in rapid succession. Each impact left glowing scorch marks but no significant damage. The creature turned its faceted head toward the new threat.

That moment of distraction cost them.

The golem’s massive fist swept sideways in a backhand strike. Korin tried to dodge but wasn’t fast enough. The blow caught him center mass, launching his armored body across the street like a rag doll.

He struck a building wall with sickening force. His armor cracked, blood spraying from the impact points.

"Korin’s down!" Sergeant Willis advanced with his tower shield raised. The enchanted steel glowed with defensive magic as he positioned himself between the golem and their fallen comrade.

The creature’s next attack shattered the shield completely. Willis disappeared under falling concrete as the golem’s fist punched through the building behind him. When the dust cleared, only his crushed armor remained visible.

Two down. Ten remaining against an enemy they couldn’t meaningfully hurt.

Damian gritted his teeth and checked his tactical options. Iron-fang doctrine emphasized overwhelming force through coordinated attacks. But conventional strategies assumed roughly equivalent power levels between opposing forces.

This was like fighting a walking mountain with dinner knives.

A memory surfaced from weeks earlier - Leon’s determination during their underground fight. The F-rank necromancer had faced impossible odds with nothing but stubborn refusal to surrender. His undead had been outclassed in every measurable way, yet somehow he’d kept fighting until the final bell.

That same determination strengthened Damian’s resolve now. Tactical logic said retreat. Honor demanded he hold the line.

"All units, coordinate with Association mages!" Damian activated his communication interface. "Request immediate magical support for defensive barrier construction!"

The response came from Guild Director Voss himself. "Iron-fang units, this is central command. Sanctuary healers are establishing emergency positions two blocks south. Fall back and protect their medical stations."

"Negative, command." Damian’s blade deflected falling rubble as he spoke. "Civilian evacuation incomplete. We hold until the last family clears the danger zone."

Static crackled through the interface before Voss responded. "Understood. Reinforcements en route. Association combat mages will support your position in sixty seconds."

Sixty seconds felt like eternity when facing magical creatures that could level city blocks. But Damian had held worse positions during dungeon raids. The key was managing resources and keeping his people alive long enough for support to arrive.

"Scattered formation!" he ordered. "Use buildings for cover. Hit and run tactics only. Don’t engage directly unless absolutely necessary!"

His remaining squad members acknowledged and dispersed. They moved like shadows between ruined structures, taking potshots at the golem whenever clear shots presented themselves. The creature’s attention divided between multiple irritants instead of focusing on single targets.

The strategy worked until the aerial demon arrived.

Leathery wings blocked the sun as the creature descended from above. Its serpentine body stretched fifteen feet from nose to tail, covered in obsidian scales that reflected magical energy like black mirrors. Poison dripped from its fangs, eating holes in the concrete where it landed.

The demon’s burning eyes scanned the battlefield before focusing on fleeing civilians three blocks away. Its throat swelled as it prepared to unleash poison breath that would kill dozens of innocent people.

Damian didn’t think. He just moved.

His enhancement magic surged through his legs, launching him from a building’s third-story ledge. Wind whistled past his ears as he fell toward the demon’s back. His sword blazed with concentrated mana, every point of magical energy he possessed channeled into the blade’s edge.

The strike pierced the demon’s wing membrane like paper. Black ichor sprayed in arterial pulses as the creature shrieked in pain and rage. Its flight pattern destabilized immediately.

They crashed together into the ornamental fountain at the intersection’s center. Water erupted in all directions as tons of demon flesh and magical energy collided with carved stone. Damian’s armor cracked from the impact, hairline fractures spider-webbing across the enchanted plates.

The fountain’s marble basin shattered completely. Water mixed with demon blood created a toxic slurry that ate through nearby metal fixtures. The acrid smell of dissolving stone filled the air.

Damian rolled away from the creature’s thrashing tail. His left shoulder screamed where armor plates had been driven into flesh. Blood seeped through gaps in his protection, but adrenaline kept him moving.

The demon righted itself with predatory grace. Its wing hung useless, torn membrane flapping in the wind. But fury replaced pain in its burning eyes. This wasn’t a creature that accepted defeat gracefully.

Razor-sharp claws raked across Damian’s left arm as he tried to bring his sword up in defense. The talons found gaps between armor plates, tearing through muscle and scraping bone. Blood sprayed across broken fountain stones in crimson arcs.

Pain exploded through his nervous system. His sword arm trembled as shock set in. The demon’s claws had severed tendons and damaged major arteries. Without immediate medical attention, he’d bleed out in minutes.

But civilians were still fleeing in the distance. The poisonous breath attack would reach them if the demon recovered its mobility.

Damian’s enhancement magic cauterized the worst bleeding automatically, sealing torn vessels with controlled magical burns. The pain doubled, but blood loss slowed to manageable levels. His left arm hung useless, but his sword hand still functioned.

The demon lunged forward, jaws opening to reveal poison glands pulsing with deadly venom. Damian stepped into the attack instead of away, using the creature’s momentum against it.

His blade punched through the roof of the demon’s mouth and into its brain. Enhancement magic discharged through the steel, cooking neural tissue from the inside out. The creature’s poison glands ruptured, spilling toxic fluid harmlessly onto broken stone.

The demon’s eyes dimmed as its nervous system shut down. Its massive body collapsed across the ruined fountain, black blood pooling beneath torn scales.

Damian staggered backward, sword still embedded in the creature’s skull. His vision grayed at the edges as blood loss and magical exhaustion caught up with him. The enhancement magic that had saved his life now demanded payment in the form of complete physical collapse.

He fell to one knee beside the demon’s corpse. His left arm was mangled beyond immediate repair. Bones showed through torn flesh where the claws had struck deepest. This kind of injury would end most hunters’ careers permanently.

But around him, the sound of civilian evacuation continued. Families running to safety. Children who would live to see another day because he’d held the line when retreat was the logical choice.

Guild Director Voss appeared through the smoke and debris, accompanied by Association combat mages whose robes bore emergency medical symbols. Their faces showed grim satisfaction at the demon’s death mixed with concern for Damian’s condition.

"Outstanding work, Commander," Voss said, kneeling beside him. "Medical team is en route. We’ll have you stabilized in minutes."

Damian tried to stand and nearly collapsed again. His body had reached its absolute limits. Every muscle fiber screamed for rest. His magical reserves were completely depleted.

But in the distance, more creatures approached. The crystalline golem still advanced methodically through the government district. Smaller demons circled overhead like vultures. The battle was far from over.

Despite his mangled arm, despite the blood loss and exhaustion, Damian forced himself upright. His right hand found his sword’s grip and pulled the blade free from the demon’s skull. Black ichor dripped from the steel as he raised it toward the approaching threats.

"Sir, you need immediate medical attention," the Association mage protested. "Your injuries are severe. Fighting in this condition could kill you."

Damian’s smile held no humor. "People are still dying out there."

He took one step forward, then another. His legs shook with the effort, but determination carried him where strength failed. Other Iron-fang members saw their commander refuse to yield and found their own courage renewed.

Sergeant Morrison, bloodied but mobile, raised his rifle toward the approaching golem. "If the commander’s still fighting, so are we!"

Private Chen emerged from cover, medical supplies forgotten in favor of his weapon. "Iron-fang doesn’t abandon positions!"

The rally cry spread through the remaining squad members. Wounded hunters forced themselves upright. Depleted mages gathered what magical energy they could spare. The tactical situation hadn’t improved, but morale had transformed completely.

Guild Director Voss watched in amazement as his hunters found strength they shouldn’t possess. He’d led combat operations for two decades, but had never witnessed this level of determination in the face of hopeless odds.

The Association combat mages prepared support spells. Healing magic flowed toward the wounded while battle magic gathered around those still capable of fighting. Combined Iron-fang and Association forces formed a desperate but coordinated defensive line.

In the distance, Chairman Ethella’s magical lightning illuminated the sky as he engaged multiple A-rank trolls simultaneously. His power dwarfed anything else on the battlefield, but even S-rank abilities had limits when facing multiple invasion.

The crystalline golem continued its advance. More aerial demons circled overhead. But now they faced united resistance instead of scattered retreat. Hunters who had been considering withdrawal stood their ground because their injured commander refused to yield.

Damian raised his sword with his functional arm, blood still seeping through his armor’s cracks, and prepared for another impossible fight.

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