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Chapter 45: Hunting Ground

Unexpectedly, Zorvax\'s stride slowed, his sharp gaze piercing the morning fog. A small smile played upon his lips as he noticed movement in the distance—quick, jerky motions that could only belong to their quarry. "Prepare yourself, Ophelia," he said in a hushed tone, his voice steady and calm. "Today seems to be our lucky day."

Ophelia\'s eyes followed his gaze, and she felt a jolt of adrenaline surge through her veins. There, scattered across the field before them, were several level 2 zombies, their forms staggering aimlessly.

Zorvax turned to Ophelia, his black eyes locking onto hers. "It\'s time for you to hone your skills. These zombies are perfect targets. Remember what I\'ve taught you—steady your breath, focus your aim, and let your instincts guide you."

Ophelia nodded, the weight of his trust grounding her. She took a deep breath, letting the stillness of the morning seep into her bones. She was ready.

With a swift motion, Zorvax hoisted her onto a higher vantage point—a collapsed wall that offered a clear view of their targets. "From here, you can see them all. Take them out, one by one. Make your shots count," he instructed, his voice low but imbued with an encouraging warmth.

From her new position, Ophelia could see the staggering gait of the level 2 zombies as they shuffled through the ruins. She aimed at the closest one, allowing her training to take over. The gun recoiled against her shoulder as she fired, her shot echoing in the silent air.

The bullet found its mark, and the zombie collapsed, a heap of motionless decay. "Good," Zorvax\'s approval reached her ears like a badge of honor. "Keep going."

With each pull of the trigger, Ophelia\'s confidence grew. Her shots became more precise, her movements more fluid. The undead fell one by one, her proficiency with the firearms blossoming under Zorvax\'s watchful eye.

Zorvax observed from below, his gaze never wavering from Ophelia\'s form. He watched as she became a conductor of destruction, her symphony written in the gunshots and the fall of her prey. Each successful hit bolstered his confidence in their partnership. They were becoming a formidable team.

The morning waned, and the field soon grew still once more, littered with the fallen bodies of the level 2 zombies. Ophelia descended from her perch, her expression one of subdued pride.

Zorvax met her as she touched the ground, his large hand coming to rest on her shoulder. "You did well. Your aim has improved significantly."

Ophelia\'s eyes sparkled with a fierce joy, a stark contrast to the desolate field behind them. "With your guidance, I\'m getting stronger," she replied, her voice steady and sure.

The two stood amongst the quiet aftermath of their hunt, the sun climbing higher, casting a glow on the unlikely duo. They were survivors in a land that forgave no weakness, warriors bound by fate and a shared will to not only endure but to prevail.

Their journey was far from over, the path ahead fraught with peril and uncertainty. Yet, in the crisp light of the morning, with the spoils of their hunt at their feet, Zorvax and Ophelia allowed themselves a moment to savor the victory.

"Let\'s collect our points," Zorvax said, breaking the stillness. "We have a long road ahead, and today, we have made good progress."

Together, they moved through the field, Zorvax leading the way with the confident steps of a leader and Ophelia, his protege, moving in his shadow, her resolve as unwavering as her aim.

The brief respite in the aftermath of their successful hunt was shattered by a roar that cut through the morning air, more ferocious and chilling than any they had heard before. Zorvax and Ophelia turned in unison toward the source, a sense of foreboding creeping over them.

Emerging from the remnants of a decaying forest line was a figure that dwarfed the level 2 zombies they had just dispatched. Its skin was an unnatural shade of red, like the coals of a fire left to burn too long. In its massive hands, it gripped a sword that was an extension of its own ferocity, the blade engulfed in relentless flames that did not seem to consume it.

Zorvax felt a knot form in his stomach, an instinctive reaction that was rare since his transformation into the undead. "Level 3," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He had only heard tales of such behemoths, never encountered one. Until now.

Ophelia took a step back, her fingers tightening around her guns. "I\'ve never... I didn\'t know they could get that big," she murmured, her gaze locked on the fiery sword that illuminated the creature\'s gruesome features.

The level 3 zombie let out another bellow, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the very ground they stood on. It was a challenge, a declaration of its power. The creature\'s eyes, burning with an unholy light, fixed on Zorvax and Ophelia, identifying new prey.

Zorvax reached for his bone sword, feeling the familiar weight that now felt as light as a feather compared to the gravity of the situation. "Stay behind me," he ordered, positioning himself between the behemoth and Ophelia. "This one is beyond any level 2 we\'ve faced. Its strength is... formidable."

"But we can\'t just run," Ophelia argued, her voice rising with a mix of fear and determination. "You need the points, the cores. We need them for your evolution."

He nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching into a grim smile. "Then we fight smart. We stay mobile. Aim for the weak spots. Its size is an advantage but also a vulnerability."

The massive zombie began to advance, each step causing the scorched earth to smolder beneath its feet. The air grew thick with the heat of its burning blade, warping the light around them.