Death Guns In Another World

Chapter 1946 - 1729: War 11

The road to the Wolfgang Empireʼs capital was long and treacherous, the lands ravaged by war. Eris and Sera, having fought through city after city, continued their march—this time, toward a village that had sent a distress signal before going silent.

As they approached, the stench of death greeted them first.

And when they entered the village—

There was no one left alive.

The village was small, a farming settlement nestled between two rivers. Once, it had been a place of peace, of warmth, where the scent of freshly baked bread and the laughter of children filled the air.

Now, it was a graveyard.

Corpses lay scattered across the streets, twisted and broken, their expressions frozen in terror. Some had been torn apart, their limbs missing, their blood painting the cobblestone roads. Others had been mutilated beyond recognition, their bodies warped and corrupted, as if something had tried to turn them into monsters—only to fail.

Houses were destroyed, some burned to the ground, others riddled with claw marks and deep gashes. The village well was stained red, the water tainted with floating bodies.

Eris clenched her fist.

”This wasnʼt just an attack…” she muttered.

”They were… playing with them.”

Sera, crouching beside a young girlʼs corpse, examined the wounds.

”The monsters that attacked here werenʼt acting on instinct,” she said softly. ”They were following orders.”

Erisʼ blue eyes darkened.

This wasnʼt just random destruction.

Something—or someone—had orchestrated this slaughter.

And they werenʼt done yet.

A low growl echoed from the shadows.

Eris and Sera whirled, their instincts on high alert.

From the ruins of the village, they emerged.

Not just monsters—but twisted abominations.

Their bodies were misshapen, their fur falling off in patches, their eyes glowing with unnatural red light. Some had extra limbs, others had exposed ribcages with pulsating black hearts, and a few still had remnants of their last victims hanging from their fangs.

They were once wolves.

Now?

Corruptions.

SNAP!

The first one lunged, fangs bared, but Eris was faster.

WHOOSH!

With a flick of her blade, a razor-sharp gust of wind sliced through the beast. Blood sprayed, and the corrupted wolf collapsed, its body disintegrating into black mist.

The other creatures howled in fury, their distorted bodies twitching unnaturally.

And then—they charged.

Sera vanished.

She reappeared above one of the abominations, her daggers gleaming with dark enchantments.

SHNK!

She drove her blades deep into its skull, twisting them before kicking off and flipping backward—just as another lunged at her.

She landed gracefully, disappearing into the shadows, striking again before the monster could react.

Eris stepped forward, her sword glowing with frigid energy.

”Wind Domain: Frostfang Storm.”

She swung once.

The air cracked—and in an instant, dozens of wind blades shot out, piercing every creature in sight.

SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!

A wave of blood and black mist filled the air as the monsters screamed and fell, their corrupted forms breaking apart.

For a moment, silence.

And then—

A deep, guttural voice whispered from the shadows.

”…Interesting.”

The temperature dropped.

The air grew heavy.

Eris and Sera felt it instantly—the presence of something powerful.

From the darkness of a collapsed church, a figure emerged.

Tall. Cloaked in tattered black robes. Its face hidden beneath a hood, save for two burning crimson eyes that radiated pure malice.

And in its hands—

A staff pulsing with black energy.

Sera tensed. ”A… necromancer?”

Eris narrowed her eyes. ”No. Something worse.”

The figure tilted its head, as if amused.

”Wind Wolf Princess… Shadow Queen…” It chuckled, a haunting, distorted sound. ”You should not have come here.”

It raised its staff—

And the village of the dead… began to rise one by one, it was such eerie sight.

The air grew thick with malice, suffocating and oppressive. A cold wind howled through the ruined village, carrying the stench of decay and corruption.

The ground quivered—bodies, once lifeless, twitched.

Then—

CRACK!

A grotesque sound echoed as the dead rose once more.

Villagers, once slaughtered, now stood on twisted legs, their eyes hollow and black, their bodies stitched together with dark magic.

The corrupted wolves that had fallen moments ago? They, too, rose—only now, their bodies pulsed with necrotic energy, their wounds sealing with black ooze.

A nightmare army.

And standing before it all—

The cloaked figure.

A Necromancer Apostle.

The being chuckled, its voice an eerie mix of malevolence and amusement.

”Rise, my children,” it whispered, extending its arms. ”Let them drown in despair.”

Then—

The horde charged.

BOOM!

Eris lunged forward, a gust of wind exploding behind her, propelling her like a spear through the darkness.

Her sword gleamed, infused with the fury of the storm.

SLASH!

She cleaved through the first wave of undead, her wind blades slicing through decayed flesh and rotting bone.

Limbs flew.

Bodies collapsed.

But—

The moment they fell, dark tendrils crawled from the ground, stitching them back together.

Erisʼ eyes flashed with rage.

”This necromancerʼs power is strong,” she growled.

SHNK!

Sera vanished, reappearing behind the Apostle in a blink.

Her dagger plunged toward its neck.

But—

CLANG!

An invisible barrier flared, blocking the attack at the last second.

Seraʼs eyes narrowed.

”Tch.”

The Apostle didnʼt flinch.

”Ah… the Shadowblade Queen,” it mused, turning its head unnaturally toward her. ”So fast. So precise. A perfect assassin…”

Its smile widened beneath the hood.

”…But you cannot kill what is already dead.”

Then—

It moved.

Faster than expected.

Its staff swung, releasing a wave of dark energy.

Sera barely dodged, flipping backward as the ground where she stood erupted into black flames.

She landed smoothly, eyes sharpened.

”Annoying,” she muttered.

Eris landed beside her.

They faced the Apostle, their weapons ready.

The horde behind it twisted and twitched, eager to charge again.

The Apostle tilted its head.

”This is your grave.”

Then—

It unleashed hell.

The undead charged, their bodies moving unnaturally fast, their claws dripping with necrotic poison.

Eris raised her blade.

”Wind Domain: Storm Fortress!”

A cyclone erupted, forming a barrier of slicing winds around them.

Undead rushed in—only to be shredded apart.

SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!

The storm cut through their rotten flesh, leaving nothing but black mist.

But—

More kept coming.

The Apostle sneered.

”You cannot kill what I endlessly revive.”

Sera smirked.

”Then we kill the source.”

She vanished again—

This time, aiming for the staff.

Her daggers glowed with anti-magic runes.

If she could break it—

The undead would fall.

But the Apostle anticipated it.

It flicked its fingers—

And the shadow of the village stretched unnaturally.

Suddenly—

Seraʼs body froze.

The shadows had wrapped around her like chains.

A binding curse.

The Apostleʼs voice was mocking.

”Did you think I wouldnʼt prepare for an assassin?”

It tightened its grip.

Seraʼs body convulsed, pain flaring through her veins.

But—

Before the Apostle could finish—

BOOOOOM!

A shockwave of wind exploded, shattering the shadow chains instantly.

Sera landed on her feet, breathing heavily.

Eris stood beside her, her amber eyes blazing with fury.

The air around her rippled, her power surging to new heights.

Her sword gleamed, infused with divine wind energy.

She pointed it at the Apostle.

”Enough games.”

The Apostleʼs expression darkened.

”Ah… I see.”

It raised its staff—

And the sky turned black.

A massive vortex of darkness formed above the village.

A cursed spell—meant to consume everything.

Eris and Sera knew they couldnʼt let it be cast.

”Break the staff,” Eris said, her voice firm.

Sera nodded.

They moved as one.

Eris unleashed her full power, summoning a hurricane of cutting winds.

The undead army disintegrated instantly, unable to withstand the force.

The Apostle snarled, trying to reinforce its spell.

But—

It never got the chance.

Because Sera was already there.

SHNK!

Her dagger plunged into the staff.

A crack formed.

The Apostleʼs eyes widened.

”NO—”

BOOOOOOOOM!

The staff shattered.

And with it—

The entire necrotic energy collapsed.

The undead army fell instantly.

The vortex above vanished.

The Apostle staggered.

For the first time, it looked… afraid.

Eris didnʼt hesitate.

She raised her sword—

”Wind Domain: Final Severance.”

And swung.

A golden crescent of wind energy erupted, cutting through the Apostle in one blow.

Its body split apart, dissolving into nothingness.

The battle…

Was over.

The village remained silent.

No more undead. No more corruption.

But—

No survivors either.

Eris sheathed her sword, looking at the ruins with somber eyes.

Sera exhaled, wiping the blood from her blades.

”They never stood a chance,” she murmured.

Eris clenched her fists.

”This is happening across the empire,” she said. ”Across the world.”

Sera nodded.

”And itʼs only getting worse.”

A storm was brewing.

And they had only just begun to fight it.

Eris turned toward the horizon—toward the capital.

”Letʼs go.”

And with that—

They pressed on.