Final Midnight Stand!

Breathless he was, yet determination was found throughout his actions and figure. The miasma from the rotten flesh that had been opened like a spring coming into life was so foul that bugs and vermin would be exhilarated if they found such a treasure.

With a flash, Quagmire stabbed his knife forward inside the head of a ghoul. Blood came leaking out of the sides where the knife was embedded, where it stained his hands with the cold blood of a ghoul. Shivers went up through him as he pulled out the knife and swung it down to make the blood go off into a slashing pattern on the ground.

This was the first time in his entire life that cold blood stained his hands; usually, when he stabbed or killed a person, the blood that would get onto him would have been inexplicably warm.

It was so warm that it made him cringe whenever he imagined it. However, cold blood was another matter. Because of his memories, he felt it was warmth—or how he imagined it to be—but it was cold. Such a thing gave him shivers. As such, the feeling was so foreign to him that despite his life on the battlefield, it had given him a new experience.

Unfortunately, despite all this, he could not let such thoughts bother him for too long, as he still needed to survive for the time being. Thus, with an ever-tightening grip on his military knife, and a face full of hope and confidence in his experience, he persevered despite everything that had transpired so far.

He could not help it, but as the seconds and hours passed by, he was starting to get used to everything about his situation. That was right—he was now returning to his old self so he could make proper rational choices. If he were still in the military, he would be reprimanded and stripped of rank. How could such a commander of his caliber get affected, after all? Such humiliation!

With a glance to his right, he found a silhouette coming in; it was not that fast and was not slow. It was like walking at a normal pace with a bit of increased speed. However, that was not the problem. The problem was the fact that there were five ghouls behind it—in a total of six ghouls coming for him. They were in tight-knit close quarters, which was very problematic.

Staring at the coming ghouls, he scoured his mind for a solution, in which he found one after a few moments. If they were in tight-knit quarters, then he just had to take them out much faster, right? The problem was his aching body.

Fortunately, it seemed like that was not going to be a problem in a bit. The hormones in his body were acting up, and some of them tanked, but there was something different. The others might have tanked, but the amount of adrenaline was increasing much further. With it, his heartbeats began to get louder and louder into the sound of battle.

With the increased adrenaline, the pain he was feeling was getting less, and the feeling he was getting was that of excitement and expectation—despite the fear that was present. If there was a normal person nearby, they would have thought he was a lunatic or a person with a screw loose.

Along with his newfound confidence and emotion, he made a move by advancing a few steps forward. Due to the adrenaline, he was able to move like how he used to, as with the pain, the body and mind temporarily forgot their injuries to prioritize things.

With a step and an inch closer to the ghoul, he swiftly stabbed the knife and pulled it out like it was nothing. The ghouls fell lifelessly, and the second closest ghoul attacked. He turned to the side and kicked its foot, which made it lose balance and fall.

With his action, another ghoul was closer to him and attacked him. However, before the ghoul was able to finish its attack, it was swiftly stabbed and killed in the process.

After killing the ghoul, he briefly glanced at the one he kicked down and focused once again on those in front of him, as the one that was kicked down was still in the process of standing up—meaning that there was still time.

In total, two ghouls were killed, one knocked down, and three still walking towards him. He made giant strides, came before the fourth, and stabbed it in the head. However, in the process, the other near it leaped towards him. Fortunately, he instinctively kicked its knees and it fell down, missing him by just a few inches as it collapsed.

Quagmire pulled the knife and swiftly changed its trajectory to stab it into the one that got its knees kicked. There were two left. It was about to end, and his heart was beating fast. He glanced forward and saw the last one in the group a few meters before him. However, considering the things that had happened so far, the closest to him must not be the one before him—but behind him, the one that got knocked down.

He turned and saw the ghoul's hands mere inches before his face. Thankfully, he was able to dodge in time, and that was where he struck. He stabbed it firmly and pulled it out. Now there was only one left. However, he could not still rest, as he turned once again and finally stabbed the final ghoul that was just a mere meter before him—and so he was safe.

With all six ghouls dead, he was finally able to sigh in relief as the fight finally ended. Tallying it all up, he killed more than ten ghouls. Just earlier, he was scared of them. Now, he was able to take on a lot of them.

"!!!" A snapping branch echoed from Quagmire's behind, shocking him beyond the heavens.

With a loud, beating heart, he turned around and saw a mouth with rotten rows of teeth that was about to bite him. He brought out his knife. Unfortunately, due to shock and confusion, it was already too late, and he was only able to use his arms to defend himself.

"Aghh!!!" Quagmire screamed in pain as the ghoul bit his arm. He could feel his own blood gushing forth out of the sides of where the rotten teeth entered. With the pain, he could almost feel himself passing out, but he steeled himself.

"Fuck!" Quagmire screamed at the ghoul before him.