Apocalypse Healer - Path of Death-Chapter 56B1 .1 - Interlude: Zachariah

Zachariah walked through the remains of a once-bustling city, each crumbled structure a faint echo of the Earthen Union's prosperity just weeks ago.

He strode casually across the cracked streets, his hand resting lightly on his sword handle. Infected rushed out of the ruins and gloomy alleys, but Zachariah didn’t pay them any attention. The undead closed in, but their heads landed on the ground with loud thuds long before they could scratch him.

The only time Zachariah moved was when a Giant Infected barreled through the main street. It headed his way, but Zachariah barely glanced at the undead. His hand twitched one moment, and the Giant Infected slumped to the ground without its head in the next.

“I’m already in a bad mood,” he spat on the corpse and continued his way, “How was that bastard so fast?”

The memory of a mist-like contour resurfaced, his expression distorting.

“I knew it was going to be there, but…” He gritted his teeth.

Zachariah couldn’t protect everyone. Again.

He stomped on a loose stone, squashing it to smithereens.

Throwing a fit wouldn’t help anyone. Zachariah knew that. He was painfully aware of the facts, but a heavy sigh escaped him nonetheless.

It wasn’t like he had expected to save everyone. That was wishful thinking. But that didn’t make it less painful.

The Mutant would have killed millions. The damage done by the Horde cannot be compared to the Mistwalker’s wrath.

While that was true, Zachariah couldn’t suppress the pang of guilt blossoming in his chest.

He gave it his best try, but that wasn’t enough. Again.

It didn’t take long until Zachariah reached the wide-open plains. The morning light painted the world in soft hues of promise, but his eyes remained ice-cold. He had a Horde to annihilate.

“As expected, Arc is still standi–...” Zachariah froze in his tracks as the Sanctuary’s perimeters appeared before his eyes. He rubbed his eyes, but the Sanctuary didn’t vanish. It stood strong, “How in the…”

It didn’t make sense. Arc was supposed to be destroyed—a Demon Rift of that magnitude should have torn the Sanctuary apart.

Zachariah’s mind was racing. He didn’t remember everything up to the finest detail, but Arc should have met its demise. Something must have changed!

Zachariah kicked the ground and rushed to the Sanctuary. He ignored the guards and only slowed as the bustling main roads of the System Sanctuary unfolded before him.

His head flicked everywhere, searching for an explanation for…everything, but he couldn’t find anything. There was no indication of a high-class illusion or other threats. Arc was at peace.

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Minutes passed in a blur before Zachariah snapped back to reality, still standing motionless as he tried to piece together what had happened.

Then he heard it; the rumors. The gossip.

“Did you know that he defeated the Rift Boss by himself?”

“Of course, I know. The others said he fought hundreds of demons and eliminated a few Herculean Darkai before dealing with the Rift Boss!”

“We are lucky to have someone like him in the Sanctuary. That unfortunate bloke…to lose an arm like that.”

“I don’t think he minds. Didn’t you hear about David’s clearance reward?”

Zachariah listened intently, but nothing appeared to make sense.

He followed some gossiping men with muffled steps and reached the market square within minutes. That was when he arrived before an excited merchant.

“I always knew we were going to survive this. That’s why I collaborated with David. He could only defeat the Rift Boss because of my equipment!”

The merchant’s boast drowned in the surrounding laughter, but Zachariah’s thoughts spun too fast to process it all.

Did he know someone called David? He searched his memories, trying to recall a powerhouse of that name, but there was nothing like that. Zachariah didn’t know him, and he remembered every single one of noteworthy nature.

Something was wrong.

He nibbled on his lower lip while darting through the market, his eyes searching for the man in question.

It took him a while, but when Zachariah’s eyes landed on a young human, he knew that he found the right one.

David appeared to be human. He towered next to an elf and a dwarf with vibrant eyes. His bare chest was exposed, revealing several scars. One was more deadly than the other, yet David stood strong and lively.

For a moment, David stood out, exuding an unnatural vitality. While those around him looked worn: as if they were still combating death:, David appeared to be overflowing with vigor.

Zachariah took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves as he took in as many details as possible, but his mind went blank as his eyes landed on David’s left arm. A black, metallic arm with golden glyphs filled his view.

This guy…

He kicked the ground, casting [Accelerate]. His hand shot toward his sword. In a heartbeat, Zachariah closed the distance, his sword cutting through the air. Before the blade could touch David’s neck, the young man reacted.

A crimson shield materialized before David, absorbing the impact. David shifted into a defensive stance and summoned a black blade into his right hand. His lips parted, but Zachariah didn’t let him speak.

Zachariah’s steeled instincts screamed at him, and the words left his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Who the fuck are you?”

David cocked an eyebrow, “I could ask you the same question, dude! What’s wrong with you?!”

“I am the one asking the fucking questions!” Zachariah snarled, his eyes darting from the metallic arm to the black blade.

A relic and a soulbound weapon…

Already? That didn’t make sense. Neither did Arc’s survival.

Did that mean?

“Are you a regressor?” Zachariah backed off, laser-focused on the unknown man and the possibility…

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you on drugs?”