The horde of zombies was in total chaos, their guttural howls echoing through the air. As strong as they were, taking down Wraithshade was no easy task.

But the central zombie nest of Frostmere—where Abyssion ruled—wasn't far from Clearwater Lake. Once word got out, reinforcements could arrive fast.

Abyssion had once led his forces to crush Wraithshade's zombie horde in a brutal campaign. That victory had earned him the unwavering confidence of his underlings.

"He's just a loser we've beaten before. Once the boss shows up, Wraithshade's toast."

"…"

Not long after, a battered aircraft came lurching through the sky, wobbling like it was barely holding together, and crash-landed near the heart of Frostmere's zombie nest.

BOOM!

The impact shook the ground, kicking up a thick cloud of dust and debris.

Nearby zombies turned their heads, startled. What the hell? What's the rush?

"It's bad! Wraithshade's back—he's attacking Clearwater Lake!"

The hatch burst open, and a panicked Zombie Leader stumbled out, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"What?!"

The crowd of undead reeled in shock. That two-headed freak Wraithshade actually had the guts to come back?

They had to tell the boss—now.

A swarm of zombies stormed into a towering stone structure. The place was built from massive slabs of rock, with thick stone pillars rising from the hall like ancient monoliths. The whole place radiated power and menace.

At the center stood a tall, gaunt figure—his back straight, his presence commanding, exuding a wild, untamed dominance.

This was the Overlord of Frostmere—Abyssion.

Ever since he'd evolved intelligence, Abyssion had played the long game—careful, calculating, always building his strength in the shadows. Once his psychic abilities awakened, he became unstoppable. He began conquering zombie nests, recruiting followers, and waging brutal wars across Frostmere. With the backing of the Zombie Kings from Heartland, he eventually rose to power as the undisputed ruler of the region.

He'd ruled Frostmere for over a decade without ever tasting defeat.

The only real threat he'd ever faced… was the rising star with two heads—Wraithshade.

"What? He's back?" Abyssion turned slowly, revealing a grotesque face.

He had four eyes—two where they should be, and two more perfectly symmetrical ones growing from his cheekbones. The sight was enough to make even his own followers avert their gaze.

One of his lieutenants stepped forward, head bowed, voice low. "Yes, sir. No doubt about it. I saw the parasites, and even a Zombie King under mind control. That can only mean one thing—the Wraithshade trio is back."

Abyssion didn't respond right away. He stood in silence, deep in thought.

The other zombies were seething with rage. The moment they heard Wraithshade's name, they lost it.

"Boss! If that bastard's back, let's go crush him already! What are we waiting for?"

"Yeah! That little freak doesn't have the guts to face us head-on. He's probably just trying to poison Clearwater Lake to piss us off."

"We've gotta move now, or he's gonna pull it off!"

"…"

Their voices rose in a chaotic chorus, but Abyssion didn't flinch. He wasn't the kind of leader to act on impulse. You didn't become a regional overlord by being reckless. He was a predator—cunning, patient, and always thinking three steps ahead.

Just like Bloodveil, he knew better than to let emotions cloud his judgment.

"Is that… really what's happening?" Abyssion muttered, his voice low and thoughtful.

Something didn't sit right with him.

Not long ago, one of his top commanders—Razorclaw—had been killed in action. Along with him, a hundred thousand zombies had been wiped out.

The whole thing stank.

Even if Wraithshade had the power to take out that many zombies, there was no way he could've done it so quickly, so cleanly.

And then there was the second red flag.

Razorclaw had died on the outskirts of Frostmere. But now, just half a day later, Wraithshade was already attacking Clearwater Lake?

He hadn't even stopped to rest. That kind of relentless movement… it didn't match Wraithshade's usual style at all.

"Things might not be as simple as you think," Abyssion finally said, his voice cold and sharp. "Wraithshade didn't come back on a whim. He's planning something."

"Oh?" The underlings looked around at each other, confused and a little stunned.

Abyssion continued, his voice calm but sharp, "Wraithshade knows he's no match for us, yet he still dared to charge into Clearwater Lake, deep in Frostmere territory. That means he's confident—he's got backup. Most likely, another Zombie King is supporting him."

"Uh… you think so?" The zombies exchanged uneasy glances, but none of them doubted their boss's judgment. If Abyssion said it, it had to be true.

"Then who's helping him?" Abyssion's mind was already racing, analyzing the possibilities. Whoever dared to interfere in this mess had to be powerful—at least an Overlord-level threat.

First off… he could rule out the Zombie Kings from Heartland.

Which left only one likely answer.

"I'd bet it's Bloodveil—the Overlord of Eastreach. Frostmere borders his territory, and that guy's a smooth talker. He's always sending out signals to other Zombie Kings, trying to build alliances. If anyone's teamed up with Wraithshade, it's him."

"So… we can't just charge in blindly. If we do, we might walk right into a trap and get swarmed."

"…"

The zombies around him suddenly looked like they'd been hit with a bolt of clarity.

"Holy crap…"

"Boss, you're a genius!"

"Then what should we do now?"

"…"

As the crowd buzzed with nervous energy, trying to figure out their next move—

Another figure stepped through the massive stone doors.

She was tall, lean, and powerful, with a distinctly feminine silhouette. The moment the other zombies saw her, they instinctively backed away, giving her a wide berth. The fear in their eyes was obvious.

"What's going on?" Her voice was low and raspy, laced with a cold, cutting edge.

Even Abyssion straightened up and bowed slightly, his tone instantly more respectful.

"Lady Nyssara, I was just about to come find you."

This was her—Nyssara. The female Zombie King from Heartland who backed Abyssion. She was no ordinary undead—she was SSS-class, a monster in her own right.

Handpicked and trained by the Overlord of Heartland himself, Nyssara was a fusion-type Zombie King, merged with Chameleon DNA. Her speed and strength were top-tier, but her real specialty was stealth and infiltration. She was a born assassin.

Though she looked mostly humanoid, a long tail curled behind her, and her skin shimmered faintly with a dark green hue. Her eyes were a piercing yellow, cold and emotionless.

Abyssion quickly filled her in, recounting everything in detail—he didn't leave out a single point.

Clearwater Lake was a critical zone in Frostmere, and it was no coincidence that the Overlords of Heartland had sent Nyssara here to keep it secure.

"This Wraithshade's got some nerve," Nyssara said, her voice like a blade of ice. "Trying to make a move on Clearwater Lake? We need to take him out—fast. If anything goes wrong, the Overlords of Heartland won't be pleased."

"Yes, absolutely!" Abyssion nodded quickly. That kind of fallout was something he couldn't afford.

"But… Wraithshade came prepared this time. He's probably got another Zombie King helping him from the shadows. If we go in headfirst, we could be walking into serious trouble."

"Then what do you suggest?" Nyssara asked, her tone curious but measured.

She was stronger than Abyssion, no doubt—but when it came to strategy, she knew he had the edge. After all, psychic-type Zombie Kings were notorious for their cunning.

Abyssion's four eyes flicked around, calculating. Then he smiled.

"I say… Lady Nyssara, you stay hidden in the shadows. Let me go out there and confront Wraithshade directly. I'll stall him, draw out his trump cards. Once he thinks he's got the upper hand—bam—you strike. We'll catch them all in one clean sweep."

...

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