As Ethan's words fell, he raised his fist and slammed it toward Nyssara. Blood-red energy coiled around his arm like a dragon breaking free from the sea, its power radiating without restraint.

Under the crushing pressure of Ethan's Domain of the Dead, Nyssara couldn't even move. She trembled like a baby chick caught in a winter storm.

A Voidborn Undying from Heartland—reduced to this.

And in Ethan, she saw it. The aura of a true sovereign. Unshakable. Unstoppable.

BOOM!

The impact exploded outward. Energy surged in all directions, tearing the ground apart and warping the very air.

Nyssara's body shot backward like a baseball cracked out of the park, before crashing down hard like a ragdoll tossed aside.

Her bones shattered on impact, her limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Blood poured from every opening—eyes, ears, nose, mouth—painting her in crimson.

Her life force was fading fast. That one punch had dragged her to death's doorstep.

"Holy shit, he's strong…"

Behind him, Bloodveil and the other undead stared in awe. Sure, Ethan had caught her off guard, but even so—his raw power was overwhelming. He could crush Nyssara without breaking a sweat.

Bloodveil had to admit it—he wasn't even in the same league.

Nyssara lay broken in a pool of her own blood. Her once-fierce eyes were now bloodshot, the world around her stained red.

Then, a figure approached—another Zombie King.

Through her blurred vision, she recognized him.

Abyssion.

But something had changed. The twisted grin on his face was gone. His eyes, once hollow and lifeless under Wraithshade's control, were now clear again.

The mind control had worn off.

Abyssion blinked, confused. His memory was blank, like he'd just snapped out of a trance. One moment he was chasing Nyssara, the next—this.

And now, the mighty Nyssara from Heartland was lying broken on the ground.

"Lady Nyssara?! What happened to you? How did this—how did it get this bad?!" Abyssion's voice was full of shock. He vaguely remembered her telling him that surviving was already a kind of victory.

"..." Nyssara was speechless. Her jaw clenched in fury. If he hadn't been chasing her, would she have been caught off guard like that? Would she have taken such a brutal hit?

But there was no time to argue.

Abyssion suddenly sensed something—several powerful presences closing in.

He turned.

Ethan. Laura. Bloodveil. Wraithshade.

The four Voidborn Undying were walking toward them, their auras surging like tidal waves. Death incarnate, closing in.

Wraithshade, with his two grotesque heads, grinned with both mouths.

The moment he'd been waiting for—revenge—was finally here.

He'd dreamed of this.

"We're screwed… we're so screwed," Abyssion thought, paralyzed by fear.

On the ground, Nyssara forced herself to speak, her voice hoarse but defiant. "You… you can't kill me. If you do, my boss will come for you. He'll wipe you all out!"

Ethan didn't even flinch. "And if I don't kill you… you'll let me live?"

He'd heard this kind of threat too many times. It didn't scare him.

Before Nyssara could respond, Laura's figure flickered—she was suddenly above her, claws gleaming.

She didn't hesitate.

Shhk!

With a sickening scrape of metal against bone, Laura's claw blade pierced straight through Nyssara's skull, the tip burying itself in the dirt beneath.

Then, with a sharp twist and a yank, she ripped it back out—clutching a glowing crystal core in her hand.

Abyssion watched in horror, his whole body trembling. His powerful backer—his last hope—had just been slaughtered like nothing.

"W-Wait! Don't kill me! I—I can work for you! I'll hand over all of Frostmere's resources! Everything! Just let me live!" he begged, voice cracking with desperation.

Ethan glanced at him, unimpressed. This guy was pathetic. He couldn't even handle Wraithshade, who was just a newly ascended Voidborn Undying.

Clearly, Abyssion had only made it to Overlord of Frostmere because of Heartland's support. He wasn't even qualified to join the so-called "Backstabbing Alliance."

"I think… you're worth less than an SSS-grade crystal core," Ethan said flatly.

Laura understood immediately. Her eyes gleamed with savage intent. Without a word, she lunged forward, claws flashing.

Shhk—!

Five blade-like claws stabbed straight into Abyssion's skull.

He froze, the look of terror still etched on his face.

The light in his eyes faded.

And just like that, his presence vanished completely.

Two Voidborn Undying—dead on the spot.

"Kehehehehe…"

Wraithshade, with his grotesque twin heads, burst into laughter. It was hoarse, unhinged, and full of madness.

Behind him, Bloodleech and Hexarm howled toward the sky, their cries echoing across the battlefield.

The blood feud they'd carried for so long—finally avenged.

Laura, meanwhile, approached Ethan with reverence. Her bloodstained claws held two glowing SSS-grade crystal cores, which she offered to him with both hands.

Bloodveil, standing nearby, couldn't help but sneak a glance, envy flickering in his eyes.

But Laura noticed.

Her gaze snapped toward him, sharp and wild.

Bloodveil immediately turned his head, pretending to admire the distant horizon like nothing had happened.

With Nyssara and Abyssion dead, their Zombie Horde fell into chaos. The once-organized army scattered in panic, and a large number of them began signaling surrender.

Ethan's forces—the Guard Mech battalions and the Saber Corps—returned to stillness, like killing machines powering down after a mission complete.

All around them, the battlefield was littered with mangled corpses of the undead, soaked in blood and gore.

They had won. Completely.

And not a single casualty.

Thousands of troops had taken on a horde of over a million—and crushed them. A feat unheard of, even in the brutal world of Necroterra.

Elsewhere on the battlefield, Big Ears crouched beside a charred Zombie King corpse. He stuck his paw into the scorched skull and dug around with a wet squelch.

Squish squish—

"Ha! Got it!" Big Ears cheered, hopping up and down with glee. In his paw was a glowing S-grade crystal core—the prize from the Zombie King he'd blasted to bits.

It was the most valuable loot he'd ever gotten.

"Not bad, huh? Bet you didn't expect it—I can one-shot S-class Zombie Kings now!" he bragged, puffing out his chest.

"Wait, really? How'd you manage that?" Locomotive asked from behind, genuinely curious.

Because, in theory, an S-grade Crystal Core Hand-Cannon shouldn't be able to kill an S-class Zombie King in one hit. They were agile, smart, and usually dodged or blocked. At best, you'd injure them.

Big Ears shrugged. "What's the big deal? I've got good aim, that's all."

"Oh…"

The other three zombies nodded slowly, pretending to buy it.

They figured he probably just got lucky and caught the guy off guard.

Shrimpy's eyes lit up. "Hey Big Ears, now that you've got an S-grade core, you can recharge the Crystal Core Hand-Cannon!"

"Yup, that's the plan."

"Then… can I play with it for a bit?" Shrimpy asked, eyes wide with hope. He'd been obsessed with that weapon for a while now.

Big Ears frowned. He knew Shrimpy too well—dumb as a rock, but stubborn as hell. Once he latched onto something, he wouldn't let go.

So… best to distract him.

"Shrimpy, we just won a huge battle. Who cares about the Hand-Cannon right now? Clearwater Lake's just up ahead—there might be shrimp!"

"Shrimp?!" Shrimpy's eyes sparkled. "Oh yeah!"

In an instant, he forgot all about the weapon.

He took off running toward the lake, yelling, "Shrimp! I'm coming for you!"

...

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