Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Chapter 776: The third phase


Harren's eyes gleamed with a deep, stormy intensity. He clenched his fist, and sparks of electricity crackled between his fingers. The wild, volatile power surged through his body like a living current.

The lightning element had fused completely into every cell of his being—it was no longer just power he wielded. It was part of him.

"Damn… it's been a long time since I felt this alive."

He murmured to himself, a flicker of exhilaration lighting up his sharply defined face. That old fire, the confidence, the swagger—it was all coming back.

This was who he used to be.

Ethan watched him closely, his focus razor-sharp. The raw energy radiating from this human was undeniable. From Harren alone, he could already get a sense of how powerful the Zombie Kings of Heartland must be.

This guy… was strong.

Stronger than any human Ethan had ever encountered. In his mind, Harren had just become the new benchmark.

Then Harren turned his head, locking eyes with him. Lightning danced in his pupils.

"Let's see what you've really got."

BOOM!

The sky roared in response. Thunder rolled across the heavens, and bolts of lightning crisscrossed the clouds in a blinding web of white.

The light was so intense it lit up the earth like daylight.

Then Harren vanished.

One second he was there, the next—gone. The ground beneath where he'd stood cracked and collapsed in his wake, as if the earth itself couldn't handle the force of his movement.

Around Ethan, spiderweb fractures split the ground. Boulders shattered, then crumbled into dust.

In the blink of an eye, a bolt of lightning appeared right in front of him—Harren, reappearing mid-strike, fist raised and coming in hot.

Ethan didn't flinch. He reached out and caught the punch head-on.

BANG!

The impact sounded like a sledgehammer slamming into a steel wall. The shockwave rippled outward, shaking the air.

Harren's fist locked in place, gripped tight in Ethan's hand. He couldn't push forward even an inch. But the lightning in his body surged even harder, more furious.

"Thunderstorm!"

He roared, and the storm inside him exploded. Lightning poured from his fist, flooding outward in a blinding torrent.

The energy surged along both their arms, racing toward Ethan, engulfing him in searing white light.

At the same time, the lightning in the sky came crashing down, surrounding them in a cage of electric fury.

Everything turned white. The world vanished in the glare.

"Holy hell, that's some serious lightning!"

"No kidding—it's Harren, alright. Looks like he hasn't lost a step."

"Is he actually gonna take down that Zombie King?"

"..."

The humans watched, breath held, hearts pounding.

In a battle where they'd been hopelessly outmatched, this—this was the first real glimpse of hope.

Even Bloodveil was watching from the shadows, eyes narrowed.

"That thunder geezer's got some serious juice… way more than I thought."

He was starting to worry now.

Was the Overlord of Southvale actually going to lose?

If that happened, humanity might really have a shot at turning the tide. There wouldn't be a single Zombie King left who could stop Harren.

Howard and Gareth stood frozen, sweat beading on their brows.

"Come on, Harren… you've got this!"

"..."

Back on the battlefield, everything within sight was swallowed by lightning. It looked like a thousand silver serpents were writhing through the air.

The light around Harren's fist grew even more intense, flaring brighter and brighter until it seemed to blot out half the sky.

Ethan's body was lost in the white blaze, reduced to a dark silhouette.

But then—something changed.

A red glow began to pulse from within the light. It spread fast, like ink in water, devouring the white.

"Huh?" Harren's eyes narrowed. Something felt off. A chill of unease crept up his spine.

"Blood Rite…"

Ethan's voice echoed in his mind as a surge of crimson energy erupted from his body, shooting straight into the sky like a flare.

The red light intensified, bleeding into the lightning until the entire storm turned blood-red.

Everyone watching saw it—the sky, once filled with pure white lightning, now glowed with a sinister crimson hue.

In his Blood Rite state, Ethan's fingers tightened.

Harren's fist cracked—literally. A sharp snap rang out as bones fractured, and a wave of searing pain shot through his arm.

"This bastard…"

Panic flickered in Harren's eyes.

Then Ethan's leg came up fast, slamming into Harren's gut.

BAM!

The force bent Harren's body in half and sent him flying backward like a ragdoll, crashing through the air.

After absorbing three SSS-grade crystal cores, Ethan's body had become even more formidable—his strength, speed, and resilience all pushed to terrifying new heights. And with that, his Blood Rite had evolved too, growing more intense, more lethal.

In a flicker of motion, he vanished from sight and reappeared mid-air, already closing the distance before Harren could even hit the ground.

Then—he struck.

A brutal downward punch, aimed straight at Harren's chest.

The sheer force behind it was monstrous, the kind of power that didn't just crush—it obliterated. It was raw, overwhelming, and impossible to ignore.

Harren reacted fast, crossing his arms in front of him just in time to block.

BOOM!

The impact echoed like a cannon blast. Harren's body slammed into the earth with bone-rattling force, lightning scattering from him in all directions. The ground cracked and split beneath him, deep fissures spidering out like a web of destruction.

Everyone watching froze, stunned.

Just moments ago, Harren had the upper hand. Now, the tide had turned—violently.

"What the hell…" someone muttered.

Howard's face went pale as he stared at the eerie red glow pulsing from Ethan's body.

"It's starting…"

That blood-red aura—it was unmistakable. The last time Ethan had entered this state, he'd shattered The Skywall with a single punch. And now, he was back in it again.

Only this time… he was even stronger.

He'd entered the third phase.

And it was clear—this wasn't the same Ethan they'd faced before.

...

"Cough, cough!"

Harren lay sprawled in the rubble, his body rattled from the impact. His arms throbbed with searing pain—like the bones were on the verge of snapping.

But there was no time to recover.

Ethan was already coming down again, a crimson blur plummeting from the sky like a meteor wrapped in bloodfire. His entire body radiated with that eerie red aura, blazing like a demonic sun.

He was a shadow streaking through the air, wild and unrelenting—like a devil unleashed.

The pressure from his descent alone was enough to make the ground buckle. Cracks split the earth in every direction, deep trenches tearing through the battlefield.

And then—he unleashed it.

Fist of the Fallen Sky.

Harren's eyes went wide, veins bulging at the corners. He could feel the sheer weight of that attack bearing down on him like a mountain about to collapse.

With a roar, he threw both hands up, lightning exploding from his palms in a desperate surge. The storm within him erupted, bolts of white-hot electricity shooting skyward like a volcanic blast.

The two forces collided mid-air.

...

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