Lily's hand felt heavy, her weapon—a light whip was beginning to feel harder to wield. Sweat slide down her pale face like moisture on leaves, and every time she struck out her whip, it fatally damaged a zombie's head, yet not enough to actually incapacitated them. It was an impractical weapon that wouldn't be useful until she could wield mana, but the zombies wouldn't wait for that. They felt like unending to her, and she could barely see the world around her as she struggled to hold them back.
"Ah!" She panted, delivering another whip to the ones in front of her, then kicking them back.
What she didn't realize was that she was now backed against a wall, with no much space to manoeuvre or shift around. Clenching her teeth, she raised the whip again, but it didn't do as much damage as the zombies were just a few feet away from her.
What made her stomach churned wasn't their gory appearance, but her impending death.
