Kalin quickly realized why the villagers were struggling to kill the undead.
Their weapons struck the creatures again and again, yet the monsters continued to move as if nothing had happened. The attacks did cause damage, but the undead felt no pain. They simply kept advancing, relentless and tireless.
There was only one effective way to stop them.
They had to behead the creatures.
When Kalin explained this, many of the villagers hesitated. Some of the undead had once been people from the very same village. The thought of cutting off their heads was unbearable.
However, one villager tested the idea on a goblin. The moment its head was severed, the creature collapsed and stopped moving entirely.
That was enough to change their minds.
They had only two choices: behead the monsters, or continue fighting blindly until exhaustion and infection claimed them. If they failed, they would soon share the same fate as the undead.
"There's no other choice!"
"Listen to the young master!"
"Behead the monsters!"
Once they saw the result, the other villagers followed suit. Unfortunately, their weapons were old and poorly maintained. It often took several strikes to cut through a creature's neck.
Even so, the new method made the battle far more manageable. By targeting the neck, they wasted less strength and ended the fights more quickly. Before this, they had been losing because they spent too much time and energy hacking uselessly at bodies that refused to fall.
Meanwhile, Kalin drew the sword from his scabbard as a goblin managed to break through the villagers' defensive line.
The creature lunged at him, swinging its clawed hand toward his face. Its sharp nails glinted in the dim light.
Kalin reacted just in time and raised his sword to block the attack.
The blade was thin and razor-sharp, gleaming faintly under the moonlight.
Despite that, Kalin felt a chill run down his spine.
This was the first time he had ever faced a real monster.
Several villagers glanced back in alarm. They had not expected an undead creature to slip through their formation. Instinctively, some of them prepared to break their line and rush to Kalin's aid.
"Stay where you are!" Kalin shouted. "Keep killing the undead. If you leave your positions now, more of them will slip through and the other villagers will be in danger!"
His voice sounded firm and fearless.
But in truth, his hands were trembling.
If he made even a single mistake, he would die here. Or worse, he would be infected and eventually rise again as one of them.
The goblin lunged forward once more.
Kalin stepped back, gripping his sword as he faced the monster charging toward him. The blade in his hand trembled slightly.
Could he really kill this thing?
His reaction was natural. This was his first real battle, his first time standing face to face with a monster that wanted to tear him apart.
Doubt crept into his mind.
Then he shook his head.
This isn't the time to hesitate.
One mistake could cost me my life.
Swish!
Five meters separated Kalin from the goblin.
The moment the undead stepped within his reach, Kalin swung his sword without hesitation.
His movements were clumsy, the strike lacking the precision of a trained swordsman. Anyone watching could tell he was a novice. Yet the sword in his hand was sharp and well-crafted, and that alone made the difference.
Thud.
The goblin's head fell to the ground and rolled across the dirt while its body remained standing for a brief moment before collapsing. Dark violet blood sprayed from its neck, staining the ground.
"Did I... do it?" Kalin muttered under his breath.
He stared at the corpse lying before him. In his mind, he had expected the fight to be much harder. He thought he would need several strikes before the creature finally died.
Instead, it had fallen with a single swing.
It felt like cutting through butter.
His arms were still trembling, though the fear gripping him earlier had eased slightly. The shaking had not disappeared, but now it was manageable.
Kalin did not allow himself to dwell on it for long. The villagers still needed help.
Without hesitation, he rushed back into the fight. Whenever an opportunity appeared, he swung his sword again, aiming for the neck just as he had instructed the others to do.
Blood splattered across his clothes and face, but he did not stop.
More undead approached the village—twenty, perhaps thirty in total. Yet the villagers, now armed with the right knowledge, fought them efficiently. One by one, the monsters fell.
When the last undead collapsed, the battlefield finally fell silent.
Soon, Kalin and the villagers sat on the ground, gasping for breath. They had been fighting for nearly three hours. All around them lay the corpses of the fallen undead.
Normally, a battle against such numbers would have lasted until dawn.
Tonight was different.
Not a single villager had died. Everyone was exhausted, but they were alive.
"Where are the rest of the monsters?"
"They usually keep swarming the village."
"Did... did we win?"
Murmurs spread among the villagers.
In truth, killing the undead had never been impossible for them. Most villagers were already familiar with handling weapons. The real problem had always been their lack of knowledge.
They simply did not know how to kill the creatures.
If they had known from the beginning that beheading was the key, countless lives could have been saved.
Hours passed, and the villagers remained alert. No one lowered their guard, knowing the undead could appear again at any moment.
Yet as the night slowly faded and dawn approached, no more monsters arrived.
When the first rays of sunlight finally touched the village, the tension broke.
Despite their exhaustion, the villagers erupted in celebration as if they had just survived a long and brutal war.
And in truth, they had.
Most importantly, no one had died.
Kalin allowed himself a faint smile as he looked at the villagers. Yet his mind remained troubled. He knew this victory did not mean the end.
They had survived today, but no one could say what would happen next. The villagers were exhausted. If another battle broke out soon, many of them would not survive. Their weapons were also in poor condition. Kalin could easily see the cracks and dull edges on their spears and swords. In their current state, those weapons would struggle to pierce the bodies of monsters or undead.
There were still too many things that needed to be done. He could not afford to celebrate or lower his guard.
Clap!
Kalin clapped his hands to gather everyone's attention.
"I know everyone is relieved that we survived the night," he began. "However, in order for us to—"
"That's thanks to you, Young Master!"
"If not for your help, the whole village might have been wiped out!"
"We are truly grateful, Young Master!"
The villagers interrupted him before he could finish. Many of them bowed their heads in gratitude, their voices filled with sincerity.
Kalin fell silent for a moment. Their reaction caught him off guard. It was the first time anyone had openly acknowledged his efforts.
Still, he quickly regained his composure.
"It's too early for us to celebrate," he said calmly. "We will have to fight them again later."
He immediately began assigning tasks. Some villagers were ordered to repair the traps, while others worked on reinforcing the wooden gate. If they finished early, everyone would at least have some time to rest.
He knew the work would exhaust them further, but they had no other choice.
The villagers followed his instructions without complaint. Meanwhile, the women who had just reunited with their husbands began preparing food. Even the children helped by carrying small tools and materials, eager to contribute in any way they could.
As the village came alive with activity, Kalin quietly stepped away from the crowd.
He stood alone, staring at the dried blood on his hands.
What is this feeling?
Is it excitement?
Why do I feel... thrilled?
A faint smile appeared on his face as memories of the battle replayed in his mind. The moment his blade sliced through the necks of the undead. The sensation of victory.
He had enjoyed it.
"Young master."
Kalin flinched when a soft voice called from behind him. He turned and saw Herin standing there. Judging by her tired expression, she had not slept at all.
"What is it?" Kalin asked once he regained his composure.
"You should clean yourself and get some rest, young master," Herin said with concern. "You fought the undead all night. I'm worried your body might not be able to endure much more."
Herin had served him for many years. She knew very well what Kalin was capable of, which made his sudden determination even more alarming to her.
Kalin nodded without hesitation. He understood she was right.
Even though his physical abilities had improved, he could not afford to push himself recklessly. He had no idea what kind of monsters might appear next. Creatures from the Hanmar Forest could attack even during the day.
It was wiser to conserve his strength.
"I understand," he said. "You should rest as well."
With that, Kalin left the area and returned to the house.
While washing the blood from his body, countless thoughts ran through his mind. Since the undead had been eliminated, the witch might delay her next attack while gathering new forces.
At the same time, he could not stop thinking about his own performance in battle.
His swordsmanship had many flaws.
If the undead had not been distracted by the villagers, he would never have been able to cut their necks so easily.
"I shouldn't look for the witch yet," he muttered to himself. "That would be suicide."
For now, he needed experience. He needed to grow stronger by fighting monsters and undead.
At the same time, another question lingered in his mind.
Where could he find the witch?
And more importantly, how could he obtain the Soul Ring?
...
Elsewhere, a shadow slowly took the shape of a man.
He stood silently, watching everything that had happened.
The man stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"He has no idea how to wield a sword," he muttered with clear disappointment. "How embarrassing for the son of a man known as the strongest swordsman."
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"Still... his determination to protect the village is commendable."
The man's eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the village from afar.
"Let's watch a little longer."