Life and Death Decision!

At the farthest reaches of the camp, a somber tent stood alone, a temporary refuge for the bodies of fallen guards. The air was heavy with an unspoken grief that pervaded the space.

Captain Alice, her original Knight uniform still stained with the dark hues of battle, sought to change her clothes. The lingering scent of blood clung stubbornly to the fabric, a grim reminder of the day's brutalities. Tired by the stench that enveloped her, Alice made her way through the camp with a desperate need for a bath.

Meanwhile, under the moonlit sky, where the stars twinkled sparingly and a gentle breeze, Elliot strolled alongside Master Lowry. Magpies charted their courses southward, slicing through the cool air. In another life, on another world called Earth, Elliot might have found such a setting idyllic for romantic wanderings with a cherished companion. But tonight, his company was the eccentric Master Victor Lowry, whose lean frame was draped in a robe that seemed to gather every scent it encountered.

The camp around them bustled quietly, the moon casting long shadows over tents and supplies. Master Lowry, lantern in hand, hummed a tune that echoed the vibrancy of the imperial capital's streets, his eyes darting curiously over the myriad objects scattered about. Elliot couldn't help but wonder if the old sage was still on the lookout for his misplaced erotic novel.

Just as Elliot's patience wore thin, Master Lowry's voice cut through the night, unexpectedly somber, "Lord Elliot, have you reconsidered my earlier advice?"

The gravity in Master Lowry's tone was unmistakable. Elliot understood immediately, he was referring to the escape plan. Shaking his head, Elliot responded with a firmness born of duty, "Master, I appreciate your concern, but I cannot abandon my people. What kind of leader flees and leaves behind five hundred souls to face peril alone?"

Master Lowry paused, seemingly digesting the lord's steadfast resolve. Then, quite unexpectedly, he steered the conversation towards a different topic. "Lord Elliot, are you aware of the history of the very ground beneath our feet in this infected zone?"

"I must confess my ignorance on this topic," Elliot admitted. His childhood lessons had hinted at a mysterious, zombified wasteland at the empire's southern border, but details had always been scarce.

As they continued their walk, the conversation deepened, threading through the past and present, weaving a tapestry of history and duty under the watchful eyes of the moon and stars.

"Over eight centuries have passed since then," Master Lowry began, his gaze drifting towards the distant, star-lit sky. "There was once a necromancer of incredible skill who sought to perfect a resurrection spell that could defy death itself, the ultimate foe of mankind. His ambition was akin to what you attempted tonight: to bring back a human with his prior consciousness intact, not merely a mindless zombie."

Elliot's lips tightened in silence, a realization dawning on him that perhaps his actions tonight bordered on the remarkable, if not the reckless.

"Sadly, the necromancer's experiments met with disaster," Master Lowry continued, his smile tinged with melancholy. "Legend has it that he perished by his own creations. The dark energies unleashed by his necromantic rituals seeped out, corrupting his town and spreading like a plague. Every living thing it touched turned into ferocious, undying zombies. The townsfolk were the first victims of this catastrophic transformation."

They reached an open expanse within the camp. Pointing westward, Master Lowry added, "The remains of that town lie twenty miles in that direction. Should you venture there, you might even find the necromancer's old dwelling, assuming, of course, you evade the zombies long enough to avoid being stripped to the bone."

At the mention of being devoured, Elliot couldn't help but picture a horde of zombies feasting on a victim. Ironically, the thought made him hungry, his mind wandering to the savory mutton spine soup he once relished back on Earth.

Oblivious to Elliot's homesickness, Master Lowry pressed on with the tale, "The town was under the rule of a noble earl back then. In a single night, nearly all his subjects were turned into zombies. The earl managed to rally the few survivors and they barricaded themselves within the castle. Yet, the relentless zombies clawed at their gates incessantly, it was clear the fortress would soon fall."

Elliot quietly smacked his lips, intrigued by the desperate plight of those castle dwellers.

Master Lowry's voice grew somber, "In those dire moments, the earl's thoughts outpaced the despair that gripped others. He knew he had to alert the Magic Association before the necromantic curse spread further. The stakes were higher than just the survival of his town."

Feeling a touch of thirst after his lengthy narration, Elliot unslung his water bottle and offered it to Master Lowry, who accepted it with a nod of gratitude. After gulping down the water, the master caught his breath and resumed, "In a move that no one anticipated, the earl opened the castle gates one night, letting the horde of zombies flood in. While the undead feasted on those unfortunate souls trapped inside, the earl seized his moment and fled the chaos on horseback, hoping to survive long enough to deliver his crucial message."

Master Lowry's voice was somber as he delivered the harsh reality of their historical legacy. "The earl, driven by a desperate bid for survival, sacrificed hundreds to save the broader realm. He alerted the Magic Association about the netherworld magic, leading to the dispatch of five archmages who contained its spread. If not for his warning, the blight upon our lands would be far more vast."

Elliot, visibly shaken by the account, fixed his gaze on Master Lowry. "Are you suggesting I emulate the earl, abandon my people for my own survival?"

Master Lowry shook his head firmly. "I'm not advising you to do anything specific. However, you should be aware that the earl's actions, though drastic, were later honored. Not only was he spared punishment, but he was elevated to a duke and granted new lands, where Eagle's Rest Castle was established."

Pausing to ensure his next words carried the full weight of their significance, he continued, "The earl, Henry Igor, is your ancestor. The founder of your family's distinguished lineage. All the privileges and protections your family has enjoyed were borne from his decision."

Elliot was left speechless, the gravity of his ancestral history weighing heavily on him.

Master Lowry's tone softened as he connected their current predicament to the past. "I understand your intent to use necromancy to save Captain Alice and the guards, to lead your people safely from this cursed place. But remember, Count Henry Igor had far greater numbers, and even then, they could not withstand the undead horde."

He laid a gentle hand on Elliot's shoulder, his voice earnest. "Even if you resurrect the fallen time and again, your magical reserves will deplete, while the zombies will never cease. The path you are considering is fraught with endless peril."

Master Lowry's gaze was compassionate yet piercing as he delivered a stark choice: "Most of the 500 souls here may not survive this ordeal, but you still have a chance to escape. Like your ancestor, you face a decision between the survival of one or the demise of all. It is a grim choice, yet a clear one."

The weight of the decision constricted Elliot's heart. Just then, the sight of a tent marked "Mortuary" loomed into view, providing a brief distraction from the heavy conversation. He turned to Master Lowry, desperation in his voice, "Let's first test the resurrection technique. As for your suggestion to flee alone, I need more time to consider it."

Master Lowry studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable, then silently stepped forward and drew back the tent curtain, allowing the young lord a moment to gather his thoughts in the shadow of the looming decision.