Leveling Up Wives In The Apocalypse



"Are you really sure about it?" Daria asked after pulling Mathew to the back of the group, some distance away from the rest of the hunters.

They were still close enough to rush back into action if another unexpected event were to take place, but far enough not to let the hunters and newbies hear what they were talking about.

"The funeral?" Mathew asked while sending a glance at where all the members of the expedition gathered.

Just like Mathew suggested, Castor organized a few things that he could find around before using those newfound tools to prepare a burial site for his wife.

Letting the girl rest was nowhere near enough to let him soothe his grief… but it was something. Something that likely no other member currently participating in the expedition could expect for themselves.

"Yeah," Daria nodded her head, biting down on her lips as she looked to where the simplistic ceremony was taking place. "We don't have long before the horde arrives. And if they already struggled to take down a small group of zombies…"

"They didn't struggle," Mathew spoke over the girl. He then crossed his arms on his chest and heaved a long sigh. "They were doing just fine. Mostly because of that one hunter who took charge, but that doesn't matter. When pressed, they all followed his orders," Mathew pointed out.

"How come they are burying one of them if they all stuck to the plan?" Daria asked with a hint of irony in her voice.

For some reason, Mathew wasn't really moved by the death of one of his people.

Sure, there was some sort of regret and sense of guilt festering at the bottom of his soul. It was his decision to pull those people out of the safety of the fortress which ultimately resulted in the first death in mere two hours since departing.

'By extrapolating my reasons for organizing this expedition, that girl died due to my laziness,' Mathew thought, suddenly pressured by his own morals to find something that would make him feel worse about the entire thing.

"It was just an accident," Mathew countered once he felt his heart tighten under the assault of the newfound sense of guilt. "And all plans are only good for as long as it takes to implement them," he added while tensing up his jaws a little. "Such is the flaw of putting theory into practice."

No plan could survive the meeting with the enemy. A weapon could malfunction. One of the members of the formation might happen to slip. A random vulcano could suddenly grow out from the ground and erupt, showering both sides with burning debris and stone chunks.

Some things were easier, and possible for planners to anticipate.

But no plan ever survived contact with the enemy. Humans were… humans, not robots. And they got to the top of the food chain on the planet not by accepting their role as feeble apes but by forcing the world around them to adjust to their own liking.

And just like it happened to the expedition, no newbie would expect that a mangled corpse of a zombie… might be a bit more alive than they assumed.

"It was an accident but also their mistake born out of their lack of experience," Mathew picked up the topic after a moment of silence, even though Daria already gave up on pursuing it. "And as brutal and heartless as it might sound this lesson…"

Mathew hesitated for a bit.

"This lesson they will never forget," Leila finished for him, appearing from the far side of his vision.

Contrary to the members of the expedition, meaning the hunters, the newbies, and Carol, the rest of Mathew's wives couldn't be bothered to participate. Just like Mathew himself, they grew numb to death during the first day of the apocalypse.

After all, seeing scores of people die right before their eyes was a traumatic experience of such a level, one could cope with it only by getting used to it.

And then, Mathew and his wives actively participated in zombie slaying missions. They exerted themselves while fighting what would raise from the corpses of those who they saw killed.

Their capacity to grieve over the death of someone they only vaguely knew… was exhausted.

"I thought you went to thin out the horde," Mathew muttered as he glanced over at the girl, more than ready to move on from the topic.

Even if he was used to seeing, experiencing, and talking about death, it wasn't the topic he preferred.

"Shut your mouth!" Leila hissed, instantly throwing a worried look at the ceremony that was slowly reaching its end. To be more precise, she looked over to where Carol stood, clearly worried that she would learn of her exploits.

"It's okay," Mathew shrugged his shoulders, "once the horde comes, she will likely notice someone altered it already," the young man pointed out with a shrug of his shoulders. "And then, you can just put all the blame on Nadia," he added.

"Nadia?" Leila asked, raising her right eyebrow in surprise. "Nadia, huh," she then added in a lower voice while turning her eyes to the ground and letting a thoughtful expression appear on her lips.

Mathew didn't need to elaborate much more.

All the surviving members of the expedition were now completing the finishing touches of the ceremony, each of them throwing a handful of earth on top of the small, makeshift casket that Castor himself lowered into the hole he dug with his own hands.

Outside of them, all of Mathew's wives and Mathew himself were gathered on the outside of the bigger group, overseeing them from a distance.

And yet… Only Nadia was left unaccounted for.

"Are you sure it's okay to let her go against the horde alone?" Leila asked, a small hint of worry flashing in her eyes.

"It's okay," Mathew shook his head before taking a glance at the stats displayed by the system. "It's a horde of basic zombies, and out of the four of us, she is the strongest."

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