CHAPTER 676: WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!

Umbradrake didn’t rush into battle. Instead, he played it smart—building pressure, letting the looming threat of his massive undead army speak for itself.

"I thought Dreadpaw was the boss of Solaris Citadel," he said casually.

"Yeah, yeah, he was," one of his zombie lieutenants nodded. "But he hasn’t shown up in ages."

That made Umbradrake feel even more confident. If Dreadpaw was out of the picture, and the new leadership was weaker than him, then even if things got ugly, he had nothing to fear.

Up ahead, the towering corpse hive stood eerily silent. Not a sound, not a stir. It felt like a ghost town.

"Where the hell are their zombies? They see us coming and just... hide?" one of the Zombie Kings muttered, clearly thrown off.

Umbradrake grinned, baring his jagged teeth. "Probably scared shitless. They were talking big before, saying they were looking forward to our visit. Yeah right. Just wait—I’m gonna make ’em eat those words."

"Maybe they already ran off with their tails between their legs," Howler chimed in, nodding eagerly.

But just as they were speculating, movement stirred in the corpse hive. A small group of zombies finally emerged—only four in the lead.

It was the Overlord Squad, with Big Ears at the front. Behind them trailed Hank, little Gatorax, and a few others.

"That guy in front... is that the boss of Draconis Citadel?" Big Ears asked, sizing up the figure in the distance.

"Yeah, that’s him," Hank confirmed with a nod.

Big Ears scrunched his nose. "Dude looks like he crawled out of a dumpster. Doesn’t exactly scream ’Voidborn Undying’ to me."

"Who knows," Hank muttered, just as unsure.

Despite the sea of undead facing them, Big Ears didn’t flinch. The hive behind him gave him all the confidence he needed.

"I think we should talk to him. Maybe recruit him as one of our underlings."

"Uh... you think that’ll work?" Hank was skeptical, but also kind of impressed. Big Ears always thought big—trying to recruit someone with Voidborn Undying-level power? That took guts.

Meanwhile, Umbradrake and his crew were eyeing the newcomers.

What the hell is this?

Judging by their aura, the four zombies weren’t strong. And their appearances? Weird as hell. Something felt off.

Could Dreadpaw really have bailed? Left these nobodies behind to stall us?

Howler stepped forward and shouted, "Hey! Where’s your boss, Dreadpaw? Why hasn’t he shown his face?"

"Dreadpaw’s dead," Big Ears said bluntly.

Howler blinked. Dead? Dreadpaw?

Was he taken out by another Zombie King?

His mind flashed back to that white-robed figure from the other day. A chill crept down his spine.

Still, he had to keep up appearances. "Y-Your zombies attacked our hive. Our boss—who’s got Voidborn Undying-level power, by the way—is here to settle the score."

Big Ears raised an eyebrow. "So what do you want?"

"Compensation, obviously. Bring out a thousand pigs from your hive. That’s the price."

It was a demand they’d planned in advance—Umbradrake’s idea. The goal was to avoid a fight if possible, keep their true strength hidden, and scare the enemy into submission.

But Big Ears just shook his head. "We don’t have any pigs."

"Oh yeah?" Howler’s brow furrowed. The guy clearly wasn’t playing ball. He pressed again.

"Our boss is Voidborn Undying-level, seriously strong. I’m giving you a chance here. Even if you don’t have a thousand pigs, ten or twenty would be a start."

"You trying to extort me?" Big Ears shot back.

Umbradrake’s face darkened. This little punk wasn’t just refusing—he was mocking them.

A low-tier zombie commander, and he wasn’t even scared?

Unbelievable.

Then Big Ears said something that made Umbradrake’s blood boil.

"You guys actually seem pretty promising. Why don’t you stick around and work for me? I’ll even let you scavenge some Neurocores."

"You—!" Umbradrake’s fury exploded. His blood surged, and a violent aura burst from his body like a shockwave.

This was beyond insult. This was war.

"You think I’d be your lackey?!" he roared.

Big Ears didn’t flinch. His face was dead serious, eyes locked on Umbradrake with unsettling sincerity. "I’m giving you a chance. Don’t be stupid."

That was it.

"Kill them all!" Umbradrake bellowed.

At his command, the undead horde behind him erupted in a deafening roar.

Like a machine of death suddenly switched on, they surged forward in a tidal wave of rot and rage, ready to flatten Solaris Citadel into dust.

"They’re coming, Big Ears!" Hank’s voice cracked slightly as he watched the undead tide surge forward. Even he, who’d seen his fair share of chaos, felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Big Ears, on the other hand, looked completely unfazed. Cool as ever, he turned toward the oncoming horde, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted at the top of his lungs:

"HELP! MURDER! THEY’RE GONNA KILL ME!"

The moment the words left his mouth, the ground around them erupted.

Dozens—no, hundreds—of red, pulsing tumors burst open with wet, sickening pops. A cloud of fungal spores exploded into the air, drifting toward the charging zombies like a crimson mist.

The front line of the horde didn’t even have time to react. As the spores settled over them, they let out blood-curdling screams. Their bodies convulsed violently, twitching and writhing as if something inside them was tearing its way out.

Then their flesh began to wither, sucked dry in seconds. In its place, new red tumors sprouted, pulsing and growing rapidly.

The tumors squirmed, fused together, and reshaped themselves—until they stood again, no longer zombies, but grotesque mimics.

The transformation was horrifying. Grotesque. Like something out of a nightmare.

"What the hell is that?!" Umbradrake’s eyes widened in disbelief.

And it wasn’t over.

From deep within the corpse hive, a wave of pink flowers and writhing vines surged forward, spreading across the battlefield like wildfire. The vines moved like serpents, lashing out and impaling zombies with terrifying precision—sometimes skewering several at once like grotesque kebabs.

The air filled with drifting pollen, and soon the zombies began to stagger, eyes glassy, movements erratic.

Then they turned on each other.

Driven mad by the hallucinogenic spores, they tore into their own ranks, snarling and shrieking as they ripped their fellow undead apart.

"This... this has to be a fusion-type Zombie King’s ability," Umbradrake muttered, his brow furrowed deep with concern.

His carefully organized assault had collapsed into chaos. Screams echoed across the battlefield as his horde fell apart, one by one.

And then the ground began to rumble.

A forest—an actual forest—was moving toward them.

"What the hell is that?!" one of the zombie lieutenants shouted, panic rising in his voice.

The trees weren’t just moving—they were alive. Branches whipped through the air like whips, roots burst from the ground like tentacles, grabbing and crushing zombies with brutal force.

From within the forest, a murder of crows erupted into the sky, their shrill cries piercing the air. Their beady red eyes locked onto the horde, and they dove like missiles, their razor-sharp beaks punching clean through zombie skulls.

"Shit... it’s that mutated plant! It’s fused with a zombie and turned into a new Zombie King!" Howler shouted, finally recognizing the horror unfolding before them.

But Umbradrake’s gut told him something was even more wrong.

These weren’t Solaris Citadel’s usual defenses. Dreadpaw never had anything like this under his command. And those crows—those pitch-black birds with glowing red eyes—he’d never seen anything like them before.

"This isn’t right... none of this is right," he growled. "There shouldn’t be this many fusion-type Zombie Kings this close to the edge of The Exile Zone!"

His eyes narrowed as he scanned the battlefield—and then he saw them.

Four figures emerging from the depths of Solaris Citadel.

Sprout. Lil’ Shroom. Petal. Gorewood.

Each one radiated terrifying power, their presence alone enough to make the air feel heavier.

"Four of them?" Umbradrake’s voice was low, stunned.

These weren’t just any Zombie Kings. They were heavy hitters—especially Sprout, whose Absolute Domain ability made him a battlefield juggernaut.

The moment they stepped in, the tide turned. The four unleashed hell, cutting down thousands of zombies in a matter of seconds, their area-of-effect abilities devastating the horde.

"I told you not to panic," Big Ears said smugly, arms crossed, watching the carnage unfold like he was enjoying a fireworks show.

Hank nodded rapidly, eyes wide with admiration. Big Ears wasn’t just lucky—he was built for this. Cool under pressure, always a step ahead.

Big Ears turned to him, grinning ear to ear, and shouted toward the battlefield, "Hey! Are we badass or what?!"

...