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The open plains of 1091-1 were strongly reminiscent of old Wild West movies. The vastness of the area was accentuated by the emptiness and silence. Or at least it would have been if a lone rider wasn't being chased by hundreds of zombies.

"I really need to give these places code names. Let's see, I'll call 91-1 the plains. 1063-2 would be the lonely house. And 1084-3 would be the fort."

I didn't bother to draw a weapon because I was running at full speed. While combat glides were faster than walking, they were far too slow when I was in a hurry. Instead, I ran as fast as I could while studying the terrain of the plains.

"The lack of vegetation and the flat terrain make it a great place to fight on horseback. However, endurance would be the problem. Unless they are riding cars, they would have to slow down at some point," I thought.

Cavalries were the most agile force of any military and were perfect for quick deployments. However, unlike infantry, they lacked staying power. Since their power depended on their mobility, the terrain played a major role in their effectiveness.

"Heh, even anime, Hollywood, and even books have romanticized the power and heroism of cavalry charges."

While there were several types of cavalry, none were more famous than heavy cavalry. The main concept of a mounted knight was formed because of the effectiveness of heavy cavalry. It was like the medieval equivalent of an armored regiment.

The closer I got to the battle, the more I noticed the man-made fortifications added to the terrain. First, the pits the zombies fell into were trenches with wooden spikes facing up. Some of these were even on fire, lighting up the surrounding area. This meant that a falling zombie would be impaled on them and had a high probability of dying instantly.

As the woman continued to circle around, any zombies still moving would be trampled further into the spikes the moment the horde passed again. The next thing that happened was that the large plains looked like flat terrain because of the bad lighting, but they weren't.

Every 500 or 600 yards there were elevated areas with a half-foot difference. It would not matter if you were walking, but it would most likely trip you up if you were running at full speed. Of course, as I crossed these areas, I saw the sheer number of bodies that had been trampled to a paste.

"Tripping in a stampede is one of the most painful ways to die."

Finally, some of the trenches did not have spikes, but rather passages that allowed one to pass out of sight. The little tweaks all added up to a battle plan designed to bait a larger force into stumbling or falling as they pursued.

If you fought humans naturally, you could only use each trap once. After they were revealed, the enemy would start to avoid them or create countermeasures to avoid them.

"But stupid zombies are different. You can repeat the same pattern over and over again!"

The inhuman growls of the zombies were now within earshot of my position. Then I saw the lone female rider pass about 200 meters in front of me. She had black hair in a messy bun and wore clothes that looked nomadic but showed a lot of skin. The steed she rode was a huge horse with plated armor and cloth around its legs.

"An Asian rider on a European warhorse? What the hell?"

Knowing that I would not get my answers from the undead, I chased after the rider, using the agility of {Thief}.

"Hey! Reaper! Hey!!!" I shouted.

The woman turned and sneered at me. She then responded cheerfully in the most racist manner I have ever heard.

"Not interested in what you sell white boy! Already scammed before! Come closer and I whack you!"

"What the hell? Are you insane? What do you even think I am?"

"No sell? Then you here for loan? I already dead! Fuck off white boy," she continued.

This bitch! Did she think I was a debt collector or something? Who knew reapers could be so racist? Before I could reprimand the rider, a male, authoritative voice echoed as I ran side by side with the woman's horse.

"Gela, behave yourself. This man should be a mercenary. Death Seeker, are you here to aid us?"

As the voice spoke, I noticed that the horse was facing me while still running at full speed.

"You're a horse? Are you also a reaper?"

"That not horse, that my husband you stupid white boy! Only his cock big as horse!"

Seriously, this woman was crazy. Perhaps embarrassed by his wife's praise, the horse then looked forward and cleared his throat.

"Uh, introductions are in order. My name is Joshua Hwang, and this is my kindred Angela Kim. Thank you for coming to our aid. If a siren has gone off, it means that we are the only ones left. Correct?"

"Yes. My AI tells me that everyone else is dead."

At my words, I could feel the sadness emanating from the husband and wife. Angela even began to shed tears. It seemed the two of them were close to their fellow defenders. Unconsciously, I offered words of comfort.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Angela wiped her tears with her free hand and made a pitiful face like a child. Joshua then spoke as he moved closer to me.

"We will mourn her later. Gela, help the Death Seeker up. Let us make sure the others have company in the afterlife."

"Okay Oppa," Angela replied sadly.

Then Angela held out her hand to me. I grabbed it and let myself be pulled to Joshua's back. True to her hate for white people, she didn't forget to mix in a few threats.

"Touch me and I pound your balls to paste then fry foreskin in oil."

Not wanting to waste time on her nonsense, I grabbed the woman's shoulders and turned around. Securing myself to Joshua with my legs, I faced the approaching horde.

"Hey! Hands off!"

"Yeah yeah whatever. Go eat kimchi or something."

"Ssi-Bal-Nom! You racist! Oppa! I hit him please?"

"{Draw} All M26."

As Joshua ran, I threw the frag grenades in my arms like balloons at a party. The subsequent explosions began to decimate the approaching zombies. Like mines, the grenades rolled to the ground before exploding. The zombies, unable to react in time, had their legs and bodies shredded by the flying shrapnel.

Both horse and rider were surprised by my antics, but before they could ask questions. I drew the Blade MAC-11s and began firing at the zombies behind us.

"You... you are Formless?" the horse asked.

"Tsk. Typical white boy. You like shit coffee and McDonald's fake burgers too?"

I swear that woman was just being racist as fuck. I do drink Starbucks sometimes, but calling a McDonald's burger fake was just rude. Ignoring the bitch, I responded to the animal instead.

"Indeed. I have no Soulgears or Soularms. I just use weapons like any other American."

"Interesting. I am the same. Even though I use a Soulgear to transform into a horse now, I am also Formless."

Not wanting to waste a {Reload}, I emptied mag after mag at the approaching horde. I didn't even bother to aim. While I managed to kill quite a few as we ran, there were simply too many. True to my observations, Joshua and Angela used the terrain to slowly reduce the zombies.

"I'm jumping!"

Joshua, who ran without stopping, would give me a heads-up before moving to higher ground or jumping over pits. He skillfully used the pathways to divert and keep us from being surrounded.

Originally they were going to make a cavalry raids against the zombies. However, with me in the mix, the pair instead utilized me as the main damage dealer and just provided support.

"White boy, how many guns you even have?"

Any lone zombies on our way would be pulverized by Angela's large weapon. After we had reduced the horde by about half, all my weapons except the M24 sniper rifle and the 1887 Winchester shotgun were empty. During the thirty minutes we were dispatching zombies, the biggest problem was the two Cyclops with massive clubs.

"Oppa, here. Last stamina tablet. Don't push too hard, okay?"

The E-class monsters had some form of intelligence, so sometimes the two of them would separate and try to surround us. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but Joshua was slowly getting exhausted. I don't know how many stamina tablets they had, but he can't run indefinitely.

"Joshua, Kimchi, we have to kill the Cyclopes. Can you get me closer?"

"Shut up white boy, other riders dead because got closer. I can't reach!"

"I can get you closer, Death Seeker, but their hide is too hard for Gela's club. I do not fear death, but I will not risk her for a mere cyclops."

"Perfect, that's why I'm here."

"Oppa, this white boy is loony."

"Gela quiet. What do you have in mind?"

"Get me as near as you can and I will do the rest."

"Hahahaha, I like your guts, Death Seeker. Fine! Let's go! Tell me your name!"

"It's John, John Smith," I replied.

"Oppa! He used a fake name!"

I turned around again, using Angela as a handle. Fortunately, {Thief} had enough agility for such moves. Joshua, ignoring his wife's complaints, began a full gallop towards the nearest Cyclops. There were numerous zombies around it, so if we stopped or circled around the giant creature, we would be pinned down and killed.

"{Draw} M24. {Mage}. Kimchi, keep your shoulder steady. Joshua, try to maintain your speed."

Using Angela's left shoulder as a tripod, I aimed at the nearest Cyclops eye. Fortunately, the eyeball itself was about the size of a man's torso, so at about 600 meters, it was manageable.

"Tsk. Be grateful, white boy."

"Roger that, John. Hang on!"

I fired a magazine of rounds into the center of the eye in quick succession. The 7.62 rounds buried themselves in the monster's huge cornea. Fluid and blood gushed from the eye as the Cyclops roared in pain. It then covered its eye with its free hand and swung its huge club in a blind frenzy.

Joshua charged at the monster, unafraid that we would be crushed by accident. I tried to stop the monster from moving with the M24, but it had little effect. As if anticipating the enemy, the Cyclops began to slam its club straight down on the ground.

"John, get ready, I'm going for the club."

"Okay! Let's do this! {Reveal}." I confirmed.