Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Every major compound was pulling in a steady stream of high-Tier crystal cores each day, and their overall strength kept climbing.

But the most brutal by far was Fallen Star Guard.

Twenty thousand Fallen Star Guard members, backed by more than thirty thousand Flamebirds, were basically roaming around looting the apocalypse. Wherever they went, it didn’t matter if it was zombies or mutant beasts—everything got burned, butchered, and scooped clean.

Other compounds hunted carefully. They looked for loners, small groups, soft targets.

Fallen Star Guard did the opposite.

They went straight for the biggest concentrations.

Zombies might’ve gotten stronger, but against a force where everyone was at least Stage B, plus the Flamebirds overhead, they couldn’t make waves at all.

Wave after wave of zombies hit the dirt—then became crystal cores, shoveled into packs by Fallen Star Guard members like they were collecting dropped loot.

Every guard wore an oversized mountaineering backpack, stuffed for one reason only: crystal cores.

They went out in the morning and came back at night, and every single one of them returned with a bag so full it looked ready to split at the seams.

Word spread fast.

When the other compounds heard, their management teams nearly turned green with envy.

They’d be thrilled if they managed a few hundred high-Tier crystal cores in a day.

Fallen Star Guard was hauling in millions.

Twenty thousand people—if each backpack held even a hundred cores, that was two million cores a day. How was anyone supposed to hear that and not feel bitter?

And Fallen Star City sat in the Golden Delta, the most densely populated region in the Federation—over a hundred million people before the fall.

Which meant the zombie supply out there was so thick Fallen Star Guard could eat until they were sick.

All of those crystal cores flowed straight into Miles’s hands.

Luckily, his pocket-dimension space had grown large enough. Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been anywhere to put them.

With that kind of high-Tier crystal core stockpile behind him, Miles finally started building what he’d been planning for a long time:

The Fallen Star Corps.

When they’d first founded the compound, the goal had been simple—have a home. A place where they could leave their families and actually sleep at night.

And beyond that, to raise their own power base. When things went sideways, they needed people who could stand behind them—real backing, not empty words.

Now Fallen Star Guard had matured. They could follow the captain out to fight across the world.

That meant Miles could start growing a second force.

Because if Fallen Star Guard was going to be away more often, Fallen Star City couldn’t just sit there undefended. The compound needed combat power that could hold the line.

Miles planned to train fifty thousand people for the Fallen Star Corps.

They didn’t need to catch up to Fallen Star Guard.

They just needed to be strong enough to crush everyone else.

These days, Miles was buried in selection work—so busy he barely had time to breathe.

As Fallen Star City’s number two—its Deputy Commander—his name now carried real weight across the Atlas Federation. When any compound boss called him, they spoke politely. Even Maxwell treated him the same way.

This was what Miles had chased his whole life.

He just hadn’t expected it to actually happen.

In the end, it was Ethan who made it possible.

But Miles hadn’t wasted Ethan’s trust, either.

Back then, all it took was one sentence from Ethan—

”I believe in you.”

Miles poured everything he had into Fallen Star City. He ran the place like a machine, smooth and tight, never letting Ethan worry about a single detail.

From a compound of a few tens of thousands to one with millions now—top to bottom, it had all been on Miles’s shoulders.

And to keep Fallen Star Squad from getting distracted or slowed down, Miles never brought Ethan their problems.

Not once.

Whenever Ethan and the others came back, all they had to do was rest and train.

Miles would build them the best place to live, hire the best cooks, make sure their daily lives ran smoother than before the apocalypse.

Those twenty thousand Fallen Star Guard members? Every one of them had been handpicked by Miles. He’d built them for one reason—so that one day, they could actually take weight off Fallen Star Squad’s shoulders.

That was why they were called the Fallen Star Guard in the first place.

To guard the Fallen Star Squad.

Now they finally met the standard.

Sure, most of their strength had come from the crystal cores Ethan’s team brought back.

But their loyalty?

Miles had forged that himself—day after day, night after night, drilling it into them until it stuck down to the bone. That was why when Skinny Pete had swept through everyone with his ability back then, he hadn’t found a single person with divided intentions.

In Fallen Star Squad, Miles’s contribution wasn’t less than anyone else’s.

Not even close.

And for a while, everything kept moving forward in perfect order.

Until the sixth day.

Ethan and the others were in the forest again, cautiously searching for Mindfruit, when Maxwell’s call finally came through.

”Target spotted.”

Ethan’s mouth curled into a slow smile.

”Finally decided to come out?”

”Good timing.”

Over the past few days, he’d gotten a total of eleven Mindfruits, and his mental energy had risen by around sixty percent.

The later ones helped less and less. By the eleventh fruit, the boost had been only one percent, which told Ethan the truth—he’d basically capped out.

If they found more after this, he’d let Chris and the others take them.

But right now?

The remaining Void Realm monsters mattered more.

And with his strength surging, Ethan honestly wanted a test run.

A chance to see what he could do now.

”Let’s go,” he said, eyes bright. ”We’re going to deal with them.”

”Hell yeah.”

They left the forest at speed, mounted up, and flew straight toward the reported location.

Deep in a major mountain range in Karst Valley State, a group of tall figures stumbled out of a dense, primeval jungle—dirty, battered, and pissed off.

”Finally.” One of the Stoneborn powerhouses spat to the side. ”I’m done with this hellhole.”

They hadn’t expected it either.

When they went in, everything was normal. Then the mysterious energy went wild, the mountains transformed into primeval forest, and the plants mutated. Suddenly, the terrain itself became a trap, and they couldn’t get out.

They’d fled into the deepest part of the range to shake off pursuit.

Now just getting back out had nearly killed them.

If they hadn’t been strong, they would’ve died in there.

Even so, it had taken them six full days to fight their way out.

They glanced back at the forest behind them, and the fear in their eyes was plain.

None of them wanted to go in there again.

”Boss,” one of them asked, turning to the leader. ”What now?”

”We go back first,” the leader said. ”It’s been long enough. They’ve probably given up searching for us.”

His eyes gleamed with excitement as he spoke again.

”And once we’re back, we bring the clan over to this continent. The mysterious energy here is ridiculous. As long as we can plant our feet here, how could the Stoneborn not rise?”

One of the others hesitated. ”But if we bring our people out… and those humans come again?”

The leader snorted. ”Come? Let them.”

”I’m already Tier 30 peak now—one step from Stage S.” His voice hardened into something vicious. ”As long as you lot coordinate with me, I’m not afraid of that soulless thrall.”

”And as for the rest of them?” He bared his teeth. ”Stoneborn warriors can slaughter them clean.”

The others lit up, confidence surging with their new strength.

”Right. We’re stronger now. What’s there to fear?”

”Move!”

The Stoneborn group broke into a run, heading back the way they’d come.

They weren’t even halfway when several Flamebirds appeared in the distance, cutting across the sky at terrifying speed.

The moment the Stoneborn saw them, their expressions changed.

”It’s them!”

”How do they know we’re here?!”

”No idea. Do they have some way to track us?”

”Damn it—like ghosts,” someone snarled. ”They just won’t let go.”

The leader’s eyes went cold.

”Fine. Then today I’ll meet that soulless thrall again.”

He snapped quick orders. ”The rest of you, with me. We focus the soulless thrall.”

Then he pointed at one of the Stoneborn. ”Slate—you go after the human.”

Slate’s face fell. ”B-Boss… I can’t catch him.”

”Then you chase him anyway,” the leader said flatly. ”You’re stronger now. If you can’t catch him, you wear him down.”

His gaze sharpened, voice low and certain.

”The human’s soulless thrall is too strong. The rest of us need to go all-out just to hold it.”

Slate swallowed hard. ”…Alright.”