Undying Warlord

It was quite obvious that Dilan didn’t like the middle-aged man.

But that was something he never intended to hide, to begin with.

And Dilan was not the only one, who was fed up with the middle-aged man’s behavior.

After all, he was the laziest, and most frustrating Survivor they had in their entire group!

That was why Dilan didn’t even bother to explain anything to him about the zombie scratches on his right leg as he continued to put on a clean set of clothes.

Seeing that Dilan was nonchalantly putting on his clothes as if he didn’t even worry that he would go and reveal this fact to the other survivors, the middle-aged man couldn’t help but stare at him for a few seconds.

However, just when Dilan lifted his head, the growling of a zombie could be heard right behind the middle-aged man.

The zombie that had somehow escaped one of the patient wards approached the middle-aged man, startling him.

Terrified by the sudden appearance of the zombie, along with Dilan who he believed would most likely turn into a zombie at any moment, the middle-aged man fled from the scene.

He escaped with a rapid speed, astonishing Dilan a little bit as he put on the Clawed Gloves.

They repelled all kinds of dirt and stains, which was quite useful as he didn’t have to wash them from time to time.

When he was completely clothed, Dilan catapulted himself towards that one particular zombie, the middle-aged man had feared.

He punched forward with his fist, blasting the head of the zombie into the wall, just to look at the monster, shaking its head.

“They have really gotten way too weak. I guess the ordinary zombie’s only value is to turn their Essence crystals into Trash graded treasures or to provide abilities to new Ascenders.”_-.

Shrugging his shoulder, Dilan pulled the zombie out of the wall before he flung it into the patient ward he had just come out of.

Afterward, he took his bag before leaving the room once again.

Marking the patient ward just a moment later, Dilan tried to find the middle-aged man, just to see that he had long since vanished.

“I didn’t expect him to be able to run that fast. Did he get an ability related to an improvement in speed?”

Dilan got slightly curious but then shook his head, ignoring this insignificant fact.

He clearly knew that the middle-aged man would never fight voluntarily, so there was no need to make a fuss out of it.

‘Looks like I have to explain my passive ability to them.’

Dilan was not exactly bothered about the confusion the middle-aged man would cause by revealing what he had seen to the other survivors because he knew that he could easily clear it.

As such, he didn’t even hurry up as he walked down the stairs leading to the first floor.

“He was scratched!! In no time, Dilan will turn into a zombie, and kill all of us!!!!” The middle-aged man screamed hoarsely after running inside the cafeteria.

Panicking at the thought, he even tried to lock the doors so as to keep Dilan out of the cafeteria and away from them.

However, Dilan could only smile faintly as he pushed open the cafeteria’s doors the moment he reached them.

Given his strength which was higher than the average human strength before the Primordial Ascension by four times, he was not worried about being attacked and overwhelmed.

As he walked in the curious gazes of many Survivors fell on him.

Everyone was already in the cafeteria, trying to improve their living conditions in every possible way.

As such, all Survivors heard that Dilan was scratched, which caused the instinctive reaction to look at Dilan warily.

Seeing that Dilan appeared to be perfectly fine, despite the fact that he had been beaten into a pulp just half a day ago, nobody was sure whether they should believe the middle-aged man.

But Dilan just nodded his head and answered their unspoken question.

“Yeah, I was scratched.”

His voice sounded so casual as if he was not talking about himself, or it made no difference to him.

Yet, the effect of his words was drastic as everyone stared at him in shock.

All of them had witnessed what would happen to someone, who had been scratched or bitten.

As such, according to their assumptions, Dilan was bound to turn into a zombie.

Some survivors couldn’t help but instinctively back off while others were too flabbergasted to even move.

“Are you serious? But….how…I don’t believe it!” It was Oliver, who said this nervously.

He was the most shocked in their entire group because he knew how strong Dilan was.

That was also the reason why he couldn’t really believe that Dilan had been infected by a zombie, let alone that he would die.

“Oh, it was a Bronze Mutated Swiftness Zombie. I must say it was quite fast, and I could only kill it by allowing it to scratch me. Though, it was definitely worth the risk!”

Dilan was still calm when he explained what had happened, and was trying to appease the crowd that stared at him. Meanwhile, Kathrine just looked at Dilan in confusion, self-doubt, and a trace of suspicion.

‘Did I choose the wrong one? But then again…why has he not yet turned into a zombie? Something is wrong…’

Her conclusion was simply to wait for a moment and watch the situation that was about to unfold in front of her.

Without Dilan, she had no reason to stay in the cafeteria.

He was the only one who could help her as she had already spoken to Oliver and Ailee, who were the next strongest in their group, and dismissed enlisting them to assist her.

Neither of them was exactly powerful, and even their abilities were mediocre at most.

It was impossible for them to fight a being several levels above them, let alone the opponent on the third floor.

“Well, my passive ability is called [Lesser Immunity] and it includes the immunity from being infected by zombie scratches. The current limit is four zombie scratches a day.”

Dilan simply continued to explain his ability and its effect.

However, it looked like everyone’s doubts intensified the more details Dilan added to the story, and soon began to question just how many times Dilan had been scratched.

Some believed that he had the Lesser Immunity ability, while others murmured amongst each other.

They began to gossip, and Dilan could only look at the small group. His eyes turned cold, as he said out loud,

“If you guys want me to leave, I will take some food, and leave immediately. This might be for the best for all of us. I don’t know how long I can endure the stupidity of some Survivors, to be honest.”

He just shook his head after making clear that his life didn’t depend on the people sheltered there, let alone the cafeteria.

The chains that locked the cafeteria’s doors were completely useless if a monster like the War Krendel were to reach the first floor.

As such, the ‘safe-zone’ he created was just a psychological barrier to the mental health of all Survivors, nothing more or less.

The moment he left, monsters would be able to start spreading out once again as well.

Maybe Oliver and Ailee would be able to clear the misunderstanding and take care of everything, but Dilan was not exactly sure if they would stay with the other survivors as well.

They seem to trust him more than the other survivors, and felt saver with him as he was, by far, the strongest around.

“I believe you!” One of the older nurses suddenly exclaimed. She was the one who had tended to his wounds before. His gaze flicked to her as she continued to speak,

“If I remember correctly, you were gravely injured when you arrived in the hospital. That was already after the Primordial Ascension. Afterward, you were shot twice, and now it’s the third time you have been injured.

Your wounds heal rapidly, you have yet to get an infection or anything like that, and that is the case despite the utter lack of hygiene we had in the cafeteria until today!”

It was quite obvious that the old nurse was trying to convince others that it was close to impossible for Dilan to be unscathed in the highly infected surroundings while being injured for the last 6 days.

There had never been a time he was fully healed, and after understanding this, some Survivors calmed down.

The middle-aged man was not amongst the group of Survivors who had calmed down, but nobody truly bothered about him.

Everybody’s attention was on Dilan, and they couldn’t lose him, even if there was a small chance that he was lying about the Lesser Immunity ability.

“I believe you too. I don’t think that you would endanger our lives if you are sure that you would not turn into a zombie!” Ailee suddenly announced, appearing next to Dilan.

She showed no hesitation to give him her support, and soon after Oliver, Sarah and Bianne followed suit.

In the end, there was no need to make Dilan leave. It was more important for him to stay instead.

Understanding that the confusion had ended, Dilan took a deep breath before he said,

“If there is nothing else, I would be happy to eat something, and then sleep. As long as I don’t turn into a zombie tomorrow, everyone should be able to understand that I wasn’t lying.”

Afterward, he walked in the kitchen, took a plate of the food Bianne had prepared, and left the kitchen once again.

He went in his usual corner as before, sat down cross-legged on the mattress he had brought from the patient ward before he started to eat.

One plate was not enough for him because his body required several times the nutrition others needed.

But that was only obvious owing to the injuries he sustained.

Utilizing the [Regeneration] Origin ability over and over again, he healed much faster.

Sometimes, one could hear the faint sound of his bones realigning themselves, but Dilan was not bothered by the others’ worry.

Instead, he finally decided to rest by taking a look at the War Krendel’s claws.

Using the Clawed Gloves to grind them a little bit, Dilan was very careful in shaping them.

He wanted to create useful weapons out of the War Krendel’s claws while using the Clawed Gloves only if the situation demanded it as he believed that it was more efficient to wield daggers than to fight with the Gloves!

Once he was done with two daggers, Dilan kept leaning against the wall before his eyes closed, and slipped into a well-deserved deep sleep.

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