Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Right now, the battle between the Zombie Kings of Southvale and the human forces was raging with brutal intensity. It was the perfect setup for a third party to swoop in and reap the rewards while both sides were locked in a stalemate. Bloodveil wasn’t about to walk away from that kind of opportunity.

He was already scheming in his head—he just needed to wait for the right moment. Then he’d strike, ambush one of the human elites, and snatch their crystal core in one clean move.

Up ahead, the fight had reached a fever pitch. Ethan was surrounded by four top-tier human fighters. He weaved in and out of their attacks, sometimes dodging, sometimes throwing out illusions to confuse them. On the surface, it looked like he was barely holding his own.

Tharen’s body radiated a biting chill, his expression twisted with fury.

”That Zombie King in the white shirt? He’s nothing special!”

”I told you—if I’d been at the Battle of Skywall, he never would’ve made it out alive!”

”Die!”

With a roar, he summoned a massive ice spear in his hands. The cold around him intensified as he charged straight at Ethan.

Everywhere he passed, the ground froze solid in his wake.

”Tharen!” Howard’s brow furrowed. He thought Tharen was being reckless, getting that close to a Zombie King and engaging in close combat.

After all, Ethan wasn’t just any undead—he was a Voidborn Undying, one of the most dangerous kinds.

And sure enough, this time Ethan didn’t dodge. He just stood there, calm, his eyes locking onto Tharen’s with a faint red glow flickering deep within.

”Gotcha,” Ethan murmured.

In the next instant, a terrifying Domain of the Dead exploded outward from him. The pressure was overwhelming—space itself seemed to freeze, and the ground sank beneath their feet.

The air groaned and cracked like it was being crushed under a massive weight, howling with eerie wails and unstable energy.

Clearly, after absorbing three SSS-grade crystal cores, Ethan had become even more powerful.

To Tharen, it was like a horde of demons had suddenly materialized in front of him, all snarling and clawing their way toward him.

His movements slowed to a crawl, like he was dragging a mountain behind him. The thick ice armor that had formed around his body began to crack, then shattered into glittering shards that floated into the air—only to be ground into dust by the oppressive force.

And then Ethan was right in front of him.

He raised his fist.

And swung.

The sheer force of the punch warped the air around it, like a star crashing down from the heavens.

BOOM!

Everything in its path was obliterated. The earth split open, and even the distant hills were gouged out, leaving a massive crater.

Tharen barely had time to cross his ice spears in front of him in a desperate attempt to block.

But it was useless.

The spears disintegrated on impact. The ice armor around his body shattered like glass. And Tharen himself was sent flying like a ragdoll, his body torn apart by the blow.

He hit the ground hard, bounced, rolled several times, and finally came to a stop in a broken heap.

”Cough… cough…”

Bright red blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, thick and metallic. Pain wracked his entire body—he could feel his organs shifting inside him, like they’d been knocked out of place.

The others watched in stunned silence.

That power… it was insane.

Tharen might not have been a close-combat specialist, but he was still an SSS-level powerhouse. And yet, Ethan had sent him flying with a single punch—and left him seriously injured.

”Did… did that Zombie King evolve again?”

They could all feel it—Ethan had grown stronger. Stronger than SSS-level. He was something else now.

Tharen staggered to his feet, his body trembling. Blood stained his lips, and his lungs heaved like bellows, each breath bringing a sharp, coppery taste into his mouth.

When he looked at Ethan again, there was fear in his eyes.

Howard rushed over. ”Tharen! Are you okay?”

”I’m… I’m fine. Just give me a minute. I can still fight,” Tharen said through gritted teeth.

Hearing that, Howard felt a bit of relief. As long as Tharen could still fight, they had a chance. If Ethan had taken him out with one punch, there’d be no point in continuing the battle.

”I just let my guard down, that’s all. Don’t worry—I’m good,” Tharen said, wiping the blood from his mouth.

”Alright. Take a breather. We’ll hold him off for now,” Howard said, already shifting into tactical mode.

But none of them noticed the thin trail of dark red, mutated blood seeping through the cracks in the ground—creeping silently toward Tharen’s feet.

An ambush.

In a flash, the blood shot up like a serpent, coiling around Tharen’s ankle.

Ssssss…

A corrosive hiss filled the air as smoke rose from the contact point. His flesh began to melt away, revealing bone beneath.

”Ugh—ahhh!”

Tharen let out a guttural scream, writhing in agony as the searing pain shot up his leg. His heart pounded with panic.

The mutated blood yanked hard, throwing him off balance. He crashed face-first into the dirt and was immediately dragged backward, his body scraping across the ground.

”Kehehehehe…”

The source of the blood? Of course, it was Bloodveil. A twisted grin stretched across his face, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

A wounded human? This was his moment.

He couldn’t help but think back to those hunts in Eastreach, chasing down Xenobeasts. Every damn time he was about to land the killing blow, Ethan would swoop in and snatch the crystal core right out from under him. It drove him insane—he’d done all the work, and Ethan walked away with the prize.

But now? Now it was his turn to pull that move.

Dragging Tharen in like this? It was a perfect copy of Ethan’s tactics.

”Isn’t this how you do it?” he muttered to himself, smug as hell.

Howard and the others saw what was happening and cursed under their breath. That sneaky bastard!

Here they were, locked in a brutal fight, and this Voidborn Undying was lurking in the shadows, waiting to pick off the wounded like a damn vulture.

But Tharen was already being dragged farther and farther away—too far for them to intervene in time.

”This SSS-grade crystal core… is mine!” Bloodveil’s voice trembled with excitement. His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

Finally, a win. Finally, a score to settle the old debt.

And hey, it’s not like he wasn’t helping, right? He was killing a human too—just in his own way.

But then—

CRACK!

A blinding bolt of lightning tore across the battlefield, splitting the earth as it screamed past. It moved so fast it was barely visible, just a flash of white-hot energy.

The sheer force of it shattered stone and split the ground. As it passed between Bloodveil and Tharen, it sliced clean through the blood tendril, severing it instantly.

Tharen’s body, mid-drag, finally came to a halt.

”Huh?!”

Bloodveil’s eyes went wide, his triumphant grin freezing on his face.

A crushing aura swept over the battlefield—an unmistakable human presence.

Lightning crackled in the air as Harren stepped forward, electricity dancing across his body. He positioned himself between Tharen and Bloodveil, his expression calm but deadly.

”Did you all forget about me?”

He’d been watching the battlefield the whole time, keeping tabs on everything, waiting for the right moment to strike. And now, he’d just saved Tharen’s life.

Bloodveil narrowed his eyes, his pupils glowing with a dangerous light.

”Another elite?”

He felt like someone had just yanked the prize right out of his mouth. The frustration was real.

And this old guy with the lightning? His energy was off the charts—stronger than the others, no doubt.

Ethan, watching from a distance, had seen the whole thing unfold. He’d been aware of Bloodveil’s intentions from the start. The moment Bloodveil started lurking on the sidelines, Ethan knew exactly what he was planning.

”You rushed it,” Ethan sent a telepathic message, his tone calm but pointed. ”Your timing was off. You should’ve waited. Maybe then you’d have gotten the core.”

”…” Bloodveil was speechless. Was this guy seriously giving him a lecture right now?

He felt… insulted.

Ethan continued, ”Jumping in too early doesn’t earn you anything—it just paints a target on your back. Handle it yourself.”

”Ugh…” Bloodveil blinked, caught off guard.

But then it clicked.

Ethan wasn’t just mocking him—he was warning him.

Up ahead, Harren stood tall, lightning crackling around him like a storm barely held in check. His eyes locked onto Bloodveil with deadly intent.

And Tharen? He was already pushing himself off the ground, rage burning in his chest. His eyes blazed with fury, locked onto Bloodveil like a predator ready to strike.

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