Kenji could not withstand the pressure. The youngest member of the elite unit pulled the trigger the moment he saw the burning eyes of the living dead. Two blazing balls of hellfire seemed to look straight into his soul. The highest grades that the man got during harsh field training and his unsullied records did not help him to calm his nerves when he crossed his gaze with the necromancer's summon.
Skeletons lined up in front of the boy, like a barrier separating him from the attackers.
The rest of the 16th strike team reacted immediately. The roar of subsequent shots pierced the air, destroying the tranquility of the mountain evening.
Glowing green wisps of smoke slithered among the stones. Shin's response was frighteningly sharp.
"The living dead! Fuck, shoot!"
"Target engaged, move it! Fuck!"
They yelled.
"Cease fire!"
The order resounded. They stopped shooting. A brief moment was enough to fire more than 40 bullets. Kouta slowly approached the wall of bones. Haruki and Kenji walked a few steps behind him, securing a huge teammate. Takashi covered them from behind, watching the situation carefully.
Skeletons failed to protect Shin against a cascade of bullets. The boy got hit, albeit only once. Fortunately, most of the bullets ricocheted off the mana-reinforced bones. Stray has only hit the shoulder, tearing the skin. The wound was not even bleeding anymore. It seemed that after he turned into a class-wielder, the ordinary bullets could not hurt him the way it should a normal human being. He didn't even lose much health points. Despite all, four armed strangers had blood on their hands. His blood.
Losses were relatively small but the situation made him angry. Dungeon still appeared fresh in his memory. Shin had just returned after many hours of the life-and-death struggle. He did not even have good rest and yet, his health was threatened once again.
That had really struck a nerve. Attacked by the fellow humans in the mountains that he has been visiting since childhood. Shot from heavy, semi-automatic firearms. Shin promised himself that he would never be tormented again. Boy decided. It only took this much to devise a recipe for hate.
"And why would you try to shoot me?"
The boy's voice was as cold as a freezing breath of the evening breeze on the mountain slope. His eyes squinted behind the mask. The soldiers stopped. The carved lines of wooden mask attracted their eyes. The unusual sight had almost put them in a daze. Despite the question, they did not lower their weapons. The necromancer sensed the murder in them. They killed before, just like him.
"You're dead. I never intended to use it on a human but you started it. I will kill you in self-defense, right?"
Shin asked, his voice overflowing with killing intent. Similar words would not have come out of his mouth if it were not for teleportation to the goblin-infested land.
Four hardened men shivered. The muscles on Kouji's arm twitched as he reached for the knife. The moment Shin's eyes noticed contraction, tendrils of essence wrapped around heavily-built soldier's ankle. Shin had set them up beforehand, a couple of seconds ago. Kouji never had a chance of clenching his hand around the balanced tool. He fell on his knees.
"Kouji!"
Haruki shouted, throwing himself at the necromancer. The sight of his blood-brother lifeless body infuriated him so much that he forgot about the mission. The rifle barrel lifted in a fraction of a second, aiming at the necromancer's head. With each step, the numbed finger pulled the trigger.
Images from the past began to slide before his eyes. Haruki remembered the pain. He remembered the feeling of helplessness when he was bleeding out in a burning building somewhere in the far east, surrounded by nothing but bloodthirsty enemies. He looked back, reminiscing the sounds of gunfire and the screams he heard on the brink of consciousness. He remembered the huge man who had entered the building and threw him on his back, carrying him to the camp. Burning tears rolled down the soldier's face. Haruki was furious, his mind filled with the red-hot liquid iron of wrath.
The bullets cut through the air. Shin jumped back but they still managed to pierce his chest.
During the time when the furious Haruki attacked Shin in retribution, three skeleton minions had confronted two elite soldiers. Currently, combat training had an upper hand in the clash between military technology and black magic. Takashi skillfully got rid of the dressed-up baggage clerk, shooting several times in the head of the pitiful skeleton.
When he turned to help Kenji, the dry, metallic tick informed him of an empty clip. Unconcerned, the leader pulled out a handgun.
"Over here, you sack of dog food."
Takashi shouted, trying to distract the undead. He fired.
The fourth bullet fired exactly at the same spot, finally managed to smash the skull of the second skeleton. Despite the gaping hole, the summon pierced the youngest soldier's side with a long steel sword. Injured Kenji slumped to the ground, his face contorted with pain.
At the same time, warlock's chest also ached in pain. The pain, however, was not too bad. After all, not particularly long ago, the unique goblin pierced his lung with a sword. The blade came out of his back.
In spite of everything, the gun was a terrible weapon on its own. The kinetic energy of the bullet threw Shin about two steps back.
"Not enough!"
Shin shouted at the soldier. When he tried to regain his balance, Haruki began to struggle with the final, summoned skeleton.
"He must be controlling them!"
"Aim at the head! It's a weak point!"
Takashi and heavily injured Kouji have already dealt with the second skeleton. Thanks to firearms, they managed to immobilize it, destroying its legs. While it still continued to somewhat crawl, the skeleton had stopped posing them a threat. The two professional soldiers turned their heads towards Haruki. What they saw frightened them.
People have long imagined how the underworld may actually look like. Artists created countless works, paintings, sculptures, engravings, and descriptions of hell. They have been attempting to portray the tragedy of the eternally tortured, damned soul.
Humanity itself gave a hand. As civilizations waged constant wars, people opened gates of hell on earth. With the development of technology, machines of death have become increasingly more intricate, and new ways of warfare were devised. Combat gas, mortars, and napalm are just a few of the best known. A professional soldier sees many things during service. He may be prepared for some of them. Another time, images of living hell, those visions of war, may accompany him to the death.
Members of the 16th strike team have seen many different types of hell. They defended their country by following orders which they were not proud of. At times, they acted inhumanely. However, the sight of their companion's meat, falling off his skeletal frame filled them with unspoken terror. When a red flame balls blazed in the empty eye sockets, and the dead one moved, their blood froze.
Kouta's huge body stood up. Haruki could not see what Takashi and Kouji did. His bloodshot eyes were glued to the masked figure.
He did not discover that new undead had rapidly crept right behind him. He did not take notice of bony hands clenching his head until it was too late. The last thing Haruki saw before he died have been the smiling faces of his wife and son.
"Time is up. I'm done playing. [Drain]!"
Shin gestured at Takashi. Tendrils of green smoke shot from his opened hand. The leader of the 16th strike team died, trying to move his hand towards a grenade.
"Consider it mercy."
The dried-up body fell to the ground. Kenji was bleeding out next to his deceased comrades. Streams of tears flowed down his cheeks until his consciousness went out.