Global Awakening: Apocalypse Ender's Chronicle

Chapter 187: Diana

Diana Wells stood in the doorway, her black hair cascading down her back, framing a sharp yet alluring face with piercing black eyes.

Her attire was that of a craftswoman—practical, stained with the evidence of her trade, and worn with a sense of pride. She doesn't look clean with her clothes, but her dignified aura as a craftswoman could be easily felt.

Herman's gaze lingered on her for a moment, recognizing the urgency in her posture.

"What's the matter, Diana? You look like you've seen a ghost," he said, half-jokingly.

"There's someone outside, Sir Herman. He's asking for you. He says he needs a weapon to take down a Tyrant Zombie," Diana replied. Apparently, this request made her a bit surprised, so her voice had some skepticism and intrigue.

Herman raised an eyebrow. "A Tyrant Zombie, you say? And who might this brave soul be?"

"He's not one of us, not a Survivor," Diana explained. "I just confirmed that he's from this land, and he's been living out there on his own. Intriguing, right? Ahh... He's saying that he's heard of your talents and came as fast as he could. He introduced himself as Eldric."

As she said this, she also felt skeptical… After all, she didn't know how someone without a system like them would hear about Herman's skills. It was quite unbelievable. Nonetheless, it wasn't her job to judge their clients. If they had money or perhaps an item they could use to pay them, then there was no doubt that Herman would accept the job.

Since Herman was the one he requested, Diana would let the man decide on his own.

"A resident, huh…"

Interest piqued, Herman wiped his hands on a cloth and stepped outside. There, he was met by a rugged figure, his clothes a patchwork of leather and scavenged armor, his face weathered by the harsh reality of the apocalypse.

This was Eldric, a lone wolf of the wasteland, his green eyes a stark contrast to the dirt and grime that marked his visage. Behind him were other Survivors in the sl

"Eldric, is it?" Herman extended a hand. "I'm told you're in need of my services."

Eldric nodded, a gesture of respect. "I am. I've been tracking a Tyrant for days. It's smarter, stronger… I need something special to stop it."

"And you can pay?" Herman asked, his business sense kicking in despite the unusual circumstances.

"With materials, yes. I've collected quite the stash from the zombies I've taken down. Metals, crystals… things that are hard to come by these days," Eldric replied, his voice carrying the weight of countless battles.

Herman considered the offer for a moment before nodding. "Show me what you've got, and we'll talk."

Eldric produced a bag, heavy with the spoils of survival. Herman's eyes widened at the sight of the rare components, a craftsman's dream!

"It's a deal, Eldric. I'll craft you a weapon worthy of your challenge," Herman declared, shaking Eldric's hand firmly. He didn't have to appraise the items one by one, and he knew that they were all valuable. He didn't even mind giving me a set of armor as well!

As Diana watched the exchange, she couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder. After all, Eldric shouldn't be hunting stronger Zombies… He should be escaping from them instead.

'Is he looking for revenge? Or maybe a loot he wanted to have?' Diana mused to herself as she shook her head.

Anyway, she also had other tasks she needed to do, so she swiftly returned to her small workshop.

Time quickly passed, and on the next day, as the sunlight reached their shelter, her morning began with the clatter of her tools as she set up her workstation, the forge's embers greeting her with a warm glow.

Because of their limited food, they could only eat once or rarely twice a day. If you have your own stack of food, that would be even better as you could have them aside from the food provided by the Shelter.

Nonetheless, it wasn't a big deal for her since as she levels up, her strength and agility increased, making it easy for her to stay alive just with enough food. Furthermore, she would be the next person to loot zombies and gain experience since it was a rotation in this shelter.

The shelter's guards, a motley crew of survivors, each with their own tale, would often pass by her open workshop, sharing news or seeking repairs.

"Morning, Luke. That shield of yours holding up?" Diana asked after seeing the man walking with a piece of bread for her snack…

"Barely. Took a beating from a Brute Zombie yesterday. Think you can reinforce it?" Luke replied as he gave Diana a piece of bread.

"Leave it with me. I'll add some spikes to give those zombies something to think about." Diana replied that she would keep the bread for later. She wasn't that hungry yet.

Her afternoons were spent in the meticulous crafting of weapons and armor, the rhythmic hammering a comforting beat amidst the chaos of the world outside.

Occasionally, she'd pause to share a meal with the others, their conversations a blend of strategy and solace.

"How's the food supply looking, Mira?" Diana asked.

"Better since we raided that supermarket last week. Found a stash of canned beans. Only one from our raid team died… Luckily we raided it immediately since I heard that the Blue Moon Clan had taken that place as part of their territory…"

"Someone died, huh… It's really getting harder and harder to survive. But… Beans again? Well, at least we won't be going hungry." Diana muttered since they couldn't really plant vegetables in their territory.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Diana would often find herself atop the shelter's walls, watching the night encroach upon their safe haven.

It was there she'd exchange nods with the night watch, their silent understanding a shared commitment to protect what they had built.

"Quiet night, Tomas?" Diana asked the guard.

"For now. But you know how it is. It's the quiet ones that get you." Tomas replied.

"I didn't hear anything from Herman a while ago… Is he still busy?" Diana continued.

"Yes… He was still making that weapon for that scavenger…" Tomas replied as he stepped back, hiding himself from the shadow as if he didn't want to show his face.