Guild Receptionist Clara nearly toppled off her heels as she scrambled up the stairs, clutching a mountain of reports from across Eldoria. She burst into the guildmaster's office, panting.
On the chair sat Liloth Alvado, idly twisting her crimson silk hair around one finger, her face the very picture of boredom.
"Guild Master!! There's an emergency!!!" Clara shouted. "I–it seems there's a zombie apocalypse breaking out!!"
Liloth jolted to her feet, eyebrows raised. "A zombie apocalypse? No way!"
Such a thing was unheard of in their time. They had only read about it in history books—records of an ordeal that had supposedly taken place thousands of years ago.
"People are turning into grotesque undead!" Clara babbled. "Walking corpses that stink like rotting carcasses! The reports say they're multiplying by biting others!"
