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*****
Chapter 51: A Ceaseless, Bloody Battle
'Whoosh—'
The second Shawn's voice fell, a school of Ferals, like fish pouring out of the sea, crashed into the side wall of the staircase, unable to stop their momentum. They felt no pain, scrambling over each other, as if Shawn were the fruit of immortality.
The 'spike traps' could stop them, but only for a few moments. A Feral, impaled through the back and abdomen and pinned to the wooden barricade, still roared at him with all its might through the square opening Shawn had left. The staggered 'spike traps' were brute-forced by dozens of Ferals using their rotting flesh, breaking through the first line of defense.
Shawn tightened his grip on the Stone Sledgehammer. Only when the Ferals were right in front of him did he finally move. Facing a Feral squeezing through the gap, he raised his tool of livelihood high, like a diligent farmer, and then brought it down hard!
'Squelch—!'
Blood, illuminated by the light of the Blood Moon, splattered across the floor before Shawn's reddened eyes. Shawn, already drenched in blood, now looked even more bloodthirsty.
Seeing the Ferals still scrambling to get through, Shawn actually reached out and grabbed one. He couldn't tell which one he had, but he yanked it inside. Before it could get up and bite, the sledgehammer came crashing down on its head. He struck it three times in a row before its head was completely smashed.
And at that moment, a crack suddenly appeared on the not-so-sturdy wooden block.
'Crack, crack—!'
The moment Shawn looked, a piece of wood broke, and a Feral 'broke out of its cage'.
"Eat!"
"You want to eat me that bad?!"
Shawn sent it flying back with another blow from his hammer. Several other Ferals lost their footing and tumbled backward down the stairs, their heads, chests, and limbs landing right on the staggered 'spike traps'. They were instantly immobilized!
They didn't plan on giving Shawn time to react, and Shawn didn't plan on giving them another chance to destroy the wooden blocks. Through the third broken block, he thrust his sledgehammer out and swept it horizontally. He actually managed to push back the dozen or so walkers blocking the entrance.
Seizing the opportunity, Shawn pulled a rifle from his backpack—one he had taken from the survivor camp. He slapped in a long magazine and, without bothering to aim, dragged the barrel across the opening and unleashed a hail of bullets at the walkers outside.
A full magazine was emptied in ten seconds. Then came the second one!
But the Ferals' death charge didn't stop. They eagerly sent their heads into the line of fire. It took an average of 3 to 5 bullets to turn it into a corpse.
After emptying 6 magazines, Shawn had killed over twenty Ferals. After the last shot, he put away the rifle, picked up his Stone Sledgehammer again, and took two steps back. It wasn't because he was out of bullets, but because the wooden blocks were about to give way, to shatter all at once.
Shawn looked down and flexed his hands, trying to relieve the soreness in his muscles. He tore a short-sleeved shirt from a nearby wardrobe and wrapped it around his hand and the hammer handle like a rope. This would prevent the hammer from slipping out of his blood-slicked palm at a critical moment.
'Crack—'
'CRACK, CRACK—!!'
The wooden blocks shattered amidst a chorus of low growls.
Shawn raised his sledgehammer and swept it forward, knocking down two or three of them. Seeing the Ferals coming one after another, his expression didn't change. He switched from sweeping to smashing, triggering a headshot and brutally crushing a Feral's head!
Shawn's heart pounded violently, a mechanism triggered by the scent of blood from the Ferals at such a close range. With the help of his heart, scalding hot blood continued to surge rapidly to every part of his body.
A walker bit down on his chest. The impact sent Shawn stumbling back two steps before he regained his footing. The other Ferals swarmed in, pinning his hand and the hammer handle against the wall, grinding it repeatedly.
"FUCK!"
Shawn gritted his teeth, searing pain shooting through his body from all directions. The remaining dozen or so Ferals had completely surrounded him, climbing on top of him, trying to find a place to bite.
Shawn suddenly threw his head back, the blood-red in his eyes deepening!
"AHHH!!!"
His body abruptly swelled to 1.5 times its normal size, bulging veins popping out all over! The veins on his neck were especially menacing. Planting his feet firmly, he let out a crazed roar and shoved the Ferals in front of him, slamming them all into the opposite wall.
'CRACK—'
The sound of the Ferals' heads hitting the wall echoed with a series of sickening crunches. Shawn could no longer feel his right hand, but with his immense strength, he used every ounce of his being to swing the sledgehammer in a wide arc!
'SCHLICK—!'
It was an almost perfectly synchronized sound. But the moment it rang out, the remaining Ferals in front of Shawn all went strangely still. They stood frozen in place, their mangled bodies swaying.
With a 'thud', the first headless Feral collapsed, and then it was a chain reaction. The remaining Ferals fell one after another, unable to get up.
And in that instant, the Blood Moon outside the church's second-floor window began to fade, until it disappeared completely. Along with it, the bloodlust in Shawn's eyes also faded, as did his 1.5-times-larger body.
When the Blood Moon set, a wave of weakness and intense, searing pain washed over him. Shawn's heart relaxed. Gritting his teeth, he leaned against the wall, about to sit down. But the low growls from behind him made his body go rigid. Shawn turned his head, his face pale.
The church staircase, at some point, had become filled with normal walkers.
"Fuck, I forgot about the normal walkers." Shawn narrowed his eyes, blood trickling down from his forehead. Clearly, these walkers had been attracted by the commotion of his fight just now. But what he didn't understand was, why were there so many?!
The walkers in front of him not only completely blocked the stairwell, but a 'horde' was also pouring in from the main hall below.
He didn't have time to think further. Shawn unwrapped the shirt from his right hand and switched the hammer to his left. His right arm hung limply at his side, the pain from the fracture constantly assailing his senses.
Enduring the pain and the negative effects, Shawn swung his sledgehammer, bathed in blood. He fought crazily against the lunging walkers.
How many had he killed?
Shawn himself couldn't remember. He only remembered swinging the sledgehammer over and over again. Blood and corpses piled up on the second floor of the church, transforming it into a scene from hell.
After finishing off the last walker, Shawn collapsed weakly to the ground. His left hand, though not broken, felt as if it were, completely numb. From head to toe, he had been wounded by walkers, covered in scars.
His vision blurred...
But just then, one last walker remained. It staggered up the stairs.
"Wasn't that... the last one?"
"But I have no strength left... no strength..."
Looking at the walker, whose head he could normally smash with a single blow, Shawn found he couldn't even lift the Stone Sledgehammer lying by his feet. After his last level-up, the sledgehammer, which had felt lighter than a wooden stick, now felt as heavy as a mountain, unmoving.
Shawn was frantic, but he could do nothing but watch as the walker slowly approached.
'If only I had more strength... strength... wait, strength!'
*****
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P.S. psst... Don't forget about the Power Stones.