Chapter 757: That bastard’s putting on a show again…
“…” Harren didn’t respond, but the silence said it all. Tharen’s words had hit a nerve. That old wound, still raw after thirty years, only made Harren more determined to wipe away the sha of that defeat—once and for all.
Howard, still watching the bleak expanse of Necroterra, raised his communicator. “Instructor Garrick, you’re clear to move out.”
“Copy that,” ca the firm reply on the other end.
Above the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser, a mid-sized Command Frigate roared to life, flanked by dozens of sleek aircraft. They streaked across the sky like a teor shower, heading straight for Necroterra.
Garrick led the vanguard, the first wave into Southvale.
His Command Frigate was massive—capable of carrying thousands of elite soldiers, handpicked for this mission. The escort fleet around him cut through the air like a blade, their engines screaming, forming a thunderous procession.
“Leia… I’m coming for you,” Garrick murmured, eyes locked on the horizon, voice steady with resolve.
The human fleet tore across Southvale’s skies, the roar of their engines echoing like the fury of a beast unleashed. Sonic booms cracked through the air, shaking the land below.
On a craggy mountain ridge, a few crows had been resting on a boulder. The sudden noise startled them, their red eyes flashing as they turned toward the streaks of light in the sky.
“Caw—caw—caw!”
The flock scattered in a frenzy, their shrill cries slicing through the wind as they vanished into the distance.
…
anwhile, in Eastreach, Bloodveil was making his own preparations.
Before setting out, he’d already contacted the other Region Overlords—just like they had during the Xenobeast hunt. Only this ti, the target wasn’t monsters.
It was humans.
And the rendezvous point? The zombie hive of the Overlord of Southvale.
“Boss, with this many Zombie Kings, are there even enough humans to go around?” one of his trusted lieutenants asked, a little uncertain.
“You don’t get it,” Bloodveil said, waving a hand. “This ti, it’s not about the crystal cores or the at. The real prize is the tech. Rember that aircraft Umbradrake showed up in? That thing was cutting-edge.”
He could still picture it—sleek, fast, and clearly built with top-tier human tech. He wanted one of his own.
“Ohhh, right,” the lieutenant nodded, rembering the ship. “That thing was insane.”
Bloodveil smirked. “And the more Zombie Kings we bring, the safer we are. If the Overlord of Southvale tries anything funny, he won’t dare make a move with all of us there. He knows we’d tear him apart.”
“Boss, you’re brilliant,” the subordinate said, full of admiration. “This plan’s airtight.”
With that, Bloodveil and a few of his most trusted followers boarded their own transport, ready to depart.
Just to be safe, he also mobilized a massive Zombie Horde to the border between Eastreach and Southvale—ready to reinforce at a mont’s notice.
Necroterra, quiet for so long, was beginning to stir again.
Zombie Kings were on the move. Hordes were migrating. The signs of war were everywhere.
In Southvale, the undead had stopped wandering. Every last one had returned to their hives, gathering in silence, waiting for the enemy to co.
At the edge of the Exile Zone, Umbradrake’s hive—Draconis Citadel—was on high alert.
“Boss! The Black Crows say a large human force is moving in. This ti it doesn’t look like recon,” Howler reported, his voice tight with concern.
“So what?” Umbradrake replied, completely unfazed. “It’s not their main army. Probably just a suicide squad trying to make a statent. We’ll crush them like the rest.”
“Right… yeah, okay,” Howler nodded, though he still looked uneasy.
But then, a low rumble echoed across the sky.
A single aircraft was approaching fast—heading straight for Draconis Citadel.
“Is it the humans?” Howler’s eyes widened.
Umbradrake narrowed his gaze, watching the craft descend. But sothing was off.
It wasn’t human.
The ship was old, beat-up, barely holding together. And as it dropped lower, he could feel it—several powerful zombie auras radiating from inside.
“Zombie Kings?” Umbradrake muttered, intrigued.
The aircraft dipped lower, its engines sputtering as it ca in for a rough landing. The tail flas cut out, and with a tallic groan, it slamd into the ground with a heavy clang.
Dust billowed up around it.
Ka-chunk.
With a tallic groan, the hatch of the battered aircraft creaked open.
A few figures stepped out—Zombie Kings, unmistakably—but not Bloodveil. These were the ones he’d contacted from Frostre.
Leading the group was a tall, wiry figure with two heads sprouting from a single, shriveled neck. Its skin was dry and cracked like old leather, fangs jagged and yellow, and its hair hung in filthy strands like shredded cloth. The thing looked like a walking nightmare—twisted, grotesque, and deeply unsettling.
“What the hell is that?” Umbradrake muttered, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
Frostre was known for its heavy radiation zones. The Zombie Kings there often underwent secondary mutations—turning into what the rest of the undead called Freakers.
The two-headed Freaker stepped forward, both heads scanning the area.
“This the zombie hive of the Overlord of Southvale?” rasped the first head, its voice like rusted tal scraping together.
“Uh…” Umbradrake squinted, thinking for a second. “Yeah… I guess you could say that.”
“See? Told you this was the place,” the second head chid in smugly.
“I didn’t need you to tell . I already knew,” the first head snapped back.
Clearly, each head had its own mind—and they didn’t exactly get along.
Umbradrake and Howler just stared, speechless.
Frostre really breeds so characters…
“Wait a sec,” Umbradrake said, shaking off the weirdness. “What brings you guys here?”
The first head answered, “Don’t play dumb. Bloodveil from Eastreach already told us—humans have invaded Southvale. He said it’s ti for another hunting party.”
The second head added, “And judging by how locked down your hive is, sothing’s definitely going on. You weren’t planning to keep it from us, were you?”
“Oh…” Umbradrake nodded slowly, still a bit confused. He turned to Howler and whispered, “Hey, did the boss invite other Region Zombie Kings?”
“I think… I heard sothing about that,” Howler said, scratching his head.
“Well, alright then.” Umbradrake shrugged. If Ethan had given the green light, then it was his job to play host. He turned back to the Freaker with a wide grin. “Hahaha! Welco to Southvale!”
“Hmm. That’s more like it,” the two-headed Zombie King said, both heads nodding in approval.
But before they could settle in, another roar split the sky.
More aircraft were incoming—this ti from Westmarch. Their Zombie Kings had arrived, too, their auras sharp and aggressive, their presence commanding.
One by one, the Region Overlords began to gather.
The lineup was almost identical to the one from the Xenobeast hunt—except for one notable absence: Heartland.
Bloodveil had intentionally left them out. After all, he had plans for Heartland himself. And since he and Ethan were part of the so-called Backstabbing Alliance, there was no need to share the spoils with potential future enemies.
Finally, Bloodveil himself arrived.
His aircraft touched down with a low rumble, flanked by a few of his most trusted lieutenants. As the hatch hissed open, he stepped out, eyes scanning the hive—Draconis Citadel.
The place was locked down tight. Every zombie was in position, alert and ready.
“Hmph. So there was sothing going on,” Bloodveil sneered inwardly. “And he had the nerve to tell nothing was happening?”
Still, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of satisfaction. With all these Zombie Kings here now, Ethan wouldn’t be able to hog the prize for himself.
As Bloodveil and his crew descended the ramp, he spotted Umbradrake in the distance, chatting it up with the other Region Overlords, playing the perfect host.
Umbradrake was no fool—he knew how to handle a crowd. Smooth, diplomatic, always saying the right thing.
Bloodveil narrowed his eyes.
This scene… it’s just like last ti.
That bastard’s putting on a show again…
…
Here’s a redemption code for everyone:
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