Apocalypse: King of Zombies

They talked for a long time.

From Nerissa, Ethan learned a lot about Eldoria—enough to finally get a real picture of what they were facing.

Humanity’s situation was hanging by a thread. Forget everything else—just the races and experts coming out of Eldoria alone were already more than humans could handle.

And Earth hadn’t opened one dimensional rift.

It had opened hundreds.

Who knew how many worlds out there were like Eldoria?

Even Nerissa looked like her scalp was going numb from the thought.

Still, after Ethan worked the conversation the right way, Nerissa agreed to stay in Fallen Star City for one month.

Ethan’s offer was simple: for that month, Fallen Star City would treat them like royalty—best food, best lodging, and they’d get to experience all kinds of things they’d never seen before. In return, the Azure Nereids only had to step in if Eldoria’s strong came knocking. Anything from other Void Realm worlds? They didn’t need to care.

The Azure Nereids were curious about basically everything here. And Nerissa had already wanted to help humans in the first place.

So she agreed.

After all, it was ”only” Eldoria.

In Eldoria’s Southern Region, the Azure Nereids were one of the top races. Most Southern Region races could be intimidated just by their presence, so this condition wasn’t hard for them.

The moment Nerissa agreed, Ethan finally felt his lungs loosen.

Fallen Star City’s biggest headache was Eldoria-born creatures. They were too close to that rift—there was no avoiding it.

If the Eldoria problem could be contained, Fallen Star City would be cutting off its most immediate threat.

Tens of thousands of Void Realm creatures had already come through from Eldoria. A lot of them would eventually drift toward Fallen Star City.

A few thousand Azure Nereids couldn’t possibly kill them all.

But what Ethan truly valued wasn’t just their strength.

It was their name.

According to Nerissa, the Azure Nereids still carried real weight in Eldoria. That reputation alone would make many Eldoria-born creatures think twice before attacking Fallen Star City. No matter how far they’d crossed, their roots were still back on Eldoria—and grudges and consequences traveled with names.

Humanity’s crisis wasn’t something Ethan could solve by brute force.

He had to move carefully, one step at a time.

Anyone he could win over, he had to win over.

Anyone he couldn’t—anyone who still chose to attack—had to be erased completely. He couldn’t afford to let enemies escape and bring reinforcements.

More than anything, Ethan needed time.

As long as Fallen Star City had time to grow, it would eventually find a way to stand its ground.

After the banquet, Miles arranged for people to escort the Azure Nereids to their quarters.

Ethan and the others headed straight for the basement.

”Chris,” Ethan said, ”turn these guys into thralls as soon as possible.”

”The materials are ready. I already explained the method and the details you need to watch for.” He looked at Chris and the others. ”You good?”

”No problem!” Chris and the others thumped their chests.

”Alright. Get to it. There are fifteen of them—about two each. I’ll keep Dopey with me in case something goes wrong.”

”Got it.”

Before long, Chris and the others went into the underground chamber to begin the thrall-creation process, while Ethan and Miles headed for the council hall.

Creating thralls took time. There was no point standing around waiting.

”Did you brief the guards outside?” Ethan asked.

”Yeah. All set,” Miles said with a nod.

”Good.” Ethan’s expression tightened. ”How are the other compounds doing?”

”Bad,” Miles said grimly. ”Every major compound has already clashed with Void Realm creatures. Losses are heavy. Two compounds have already fallen.”

”That fast?” Ethan’s eyes sharpened. ”Which two?”

”Heartland City and Goldcrest City.”

Miles took a breath and started with the worst one.

”Heartland City compound was forcibly occupied by a group of Light-ability Void Realm creatures. At this point, they’re basically slaves. Those bastards kill people whenever they feel like it. Graham can’t resist.”

He paused, jaw tight.

”They just went through a major battle and lost millions of high-tier Enhanced. They can only swallow it.”

”Light-type abilities…” Ethan’s voice went colder. ”How strong are we talking?”

”Very strong.” Miles’s tone darkened. ”Likely Stage S.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. ”Do we know which rift they came from?”

”Not for sure. They were first spotted coming out of Blackpine Wilds, so the rift is probably in there. But the trees are too dense now—satellite can’t see anything under that canopy.”

Ethan clicked his tongue. ”Alright. What about Goldcrest City?”

”Goldcrest City was taken by an ice-ability Void Realm race,” Miles said. ”That one we do know. They came out of the rift on the summit of Whitecap Peaks.”

”That rift only produced that one race, but their numbers are high—over sixty thousand.”

Right now, humanity’s biggest advantage might’ve been the satellites—being able to track Void Realm movements in real time.

But that advantage had a condition.

Atlas City compound couldn’t fall.

Because if Atlas City went down… they’d lose the eyes in the sky, too.

”Those creatures didn’t wipe the cities out?” Ethan asked, frowning.

”No.” Miles shook his head. ”They treat humans like slaves, and they kill people whenever they feel like it, but they haven’t slaughtered the whole city.”

He let out a heavy sigh.

”Maybe that’s the only good news we’ve got.”

Ethan rubbed his chin, thinking.

If Nerissa was right, then the moment Void Realm races saw humans, they should’ve gone for total extermination.

But neither of the two fallen compounds had been wiped out.

So why?

Maybe those occupiers weren’t from Eldoria.

If they hadn’t lived through Eldoria’s ”human problem,” then they wouldn’t have that deep, instinctive fear of humans. And if there wasn’t a direct conflict of interest, who goes out of their way to butcher an entire city?

That was one possibility.

But there was another.

Humans still had value.

Once other races realized humans could awaken multiple ability types, a lot of them would assume humanity had some special method—some secret. And if they could force it out of humans, it could change everything for them.

Even if it was ”just” racial talent, as long as there was even the slightest chance of a technique or shortcut, someone would try. The temptation was too big.

Back when humans were strong, these races didn’t dare provoke them.

But the humans of today? Weak enough to squeeze at will.

How could they not try?

And there was something else.

If the Azure Nereids had risen because a human expert guided them—rewrote their technique, helped them unlock their water abilities—then it was almost guaranteed other races had similar stories. Or would, once they got their hands on humans long enough.

That kind of thing couldn’t be hidden.

The moment word got out, countless races would come sniffing around, hoping to use humans to boost themselves.

So yeah.

Humans were valuable.

Even if present-day humans didn’t know a damn thing, they were still humans. Those invaders would cling to hope anyway. They’d keep digging, keep testing, keep tearing people apart, convinced there had to be something to extract.

As long as humans had value, the enemy wouldn’t choose ”wipeout” first.

They’d choose ”ownership.”

Ethan was willing to bet that even Eldoria’s races—the ones who said they’d exterminate humans on sight—wouldn’t actually do it right away once they got here.

They’d try to control them.

After all, Eldoria’s human extermination had happened a long time ago. Most of the Void Realm creatures alive now had never truly faced the old humanity. All they saw was the present humanity—fragile, powerless, easy to crush.

That didn’t inspire fear.

It inspired greed.

Eldoria’s races hated each other. Everyone wanted an advantage big enough to wipe out their rivals. And in their eyes, humans might be a missing piece—a key.

Which meant humans might survive.

Not with dignity.

They’d be penned up. Worked. Experimented on. Broken. Kept alive only because it was profitable.

A life you could technically call ”living.”

But it would be humiliation from sunrise to sunrise.

So humanity needed a deterrent—fast.

A powerhouse strong enough that the races would hesitate before putting a collar on them.

And there was only one person who could fill that role.

Him.