Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1214: Do You Even Understand How Powerful They Are?

Ethan triggered [True Sight] once more, scanning the vast underground cavern thoroughly. After confirming nothing valuable lingered, he at last broke the silence.

"Time to leave. Night must have fallen outside by now. Let's head back."

"Right." The group nodded in agreement, then turned their eyes toward Garrick.

Such a steep ascent still demanded his skills.

Garrick shrugged casually and placed both hands flat against the earth. A sturdy earth mound surged upward swiftly.

Chris leaped onto the rise, then propelled himself toward the shaft's earthen wall. He rebounded from one side to the other—zigzagging up the tight-packed dirt walls with rhythmic bounces until he vaulted free from the pit.

The others followed his lead, scaling one by one, until the whole team emerged.

Ethan managed it with the least effort. A single Teleportation whisked him topside.

With his present power level, Teleportation could span nearly 3,000 feet. A mere 1,800-foot drop no longer confined him.

"Garrick, close up the entrance," Ethan ordered, gazing downward.

"On it."

Garrick pushed his palms down once more. The dug-out soil swiftly reformed, leveling perfectly as if the excavation had never occurred.

"Garrick's power is insanely handy," Chris remarked, clearly awed.

"It sure is." Ethan agreed with a nod. "We relied heavily on Garrick this trip. Okay—let's get moving."

Beyond the Void Realm, darkness had completely descended.

Ryan remained posted at the entry, standing sentinel in silence. His anxious glances toward the portal betrayed his concern, yet he uttered no gripes.

He'd guided them here, so he'd escort them home. That was his father's directive.

Years of military service had honed his endurance for such waits.

Suddenly, a distortion rippled across the warped space. Figures emerged one by one.

Ryan's expression brightened instantly. He rushed ahead to greet them.

"Huh. You're still hanging around?" Ethan voiced real astonishment upon spotting him.

They'd spent over seven hours inside. Ethan figured Ryan would've bailed—his rank wasn't minor, and base duties likely piled up.

Yet he'd lingered through it all.

"Yeah." Ryan confirmed with a nod. "Had to watch the spot. Feared others might sneak in and cause trouble for you."

He continued, "It's off-limits, but the Five Families hold free access."

"Thanks," Ethan replied, eyeing him thoughtfully.

Regardless of motives, that loyalty won genuine respect.

"Let's roll," Ethan declared. "Back to base."

"Mm-hm." Ryan joined their stride. "General Kane set up a feast to welcome you all. He's likely at the house now, expecting you."

"Sounds good."

In the compound's main conference chamber…

Leaders from all Five Families gathered.

Maxwell Kane from the Kane Family.

Gabriel Mercer of the Mercer Family.

Charles Whitaker representing the Whitaker Family.

Benjamin Caldwell of the Caldwell Family.

Dominic Hale from the Hale Family—accompanied by his father, Alexander Hale.

Maxwell, Gabriel, Benjamin, and Dominic hovered in their forties. Pre-apocalypse, they'd commanded top government roles.

Charles Whitaker edged into his fifties—the eldest surviving official—and exuded natural authority that commanded caution from all present.

Alexander Hale belonged to an earlier era. At sixty-eight and long retired, the apocalypse had boosted his vitality, making him appear far younger—sturdier, more robust than his years suggested.

Alexander had summoned this assembly.

He'd visited each family beforehand, seeking alignment, but failed to forge consensus. Thus, he convened them together for direct debate.

Though retired for years, respect drew full attendance.

Hence, every family dispatched its highest figure.

"Okay. With all present, I'll cut to the chase." Alexander's steady tone boomed like judgment. "I've called you regarding that group once more. Their power now surpasses our grasp.

"If they were pure altruists, no issue. But they're no paragons. They don't ravage everything, yet bow to no authority. Dislike an order? They execute top officers instantly.

"The Deputy Base Commander—overseer of a million souls—slain without pause. They scorn military and government alike. Unchecked growth risks all we've forged. The fallout defies imagination.

"As military and government pillars, even amid apocalypse, safeguarding Federation survival and order remains paramount."

Silence gripped the room briefly.

Benjamin Caldwell broke it first, endorsing firmly. "Alexander speaks truth. We must purge these wild cards. Unity alone confronts this catastrophe."

Charles Whitaker furrowed his brow, eyeing Alexander. "Alexander, you label them renegades, yet since entering Atlas City's base, no major disruptions occurred, correct? We can't rally full forces on your word alone."

"They dove straight into that anomalous realm upon arrival." Alexander's stare remained piercing. "Out in the open, who vows their restraint? Recall Colonel Hale's fate in Goldcrest City."

"Alexander." Charles's tone sharpened. "You grasp Colonel Hale's incident best. No need to belabor it."

His gaze swung to Maxwell Kane. "They lingered long in Clearford City. General Cross shared insights with me. His verdict: potent, honorable youths brimming with loyalty and justice. Without them, zombies would've claimed Clearford."

Maxwell seized the cue, nodding. "Precisely."

Dominic Hale scoffed. "I hear they eradicated an Enhanced squad right upon Clearford's base entry. Then crushed the city's top two Enhanced units. Zero military deference. And that's 'loyal and just'? Cross is plainly terrified."

Maxwell's features hardened. "General Cross rose under my wing. I know his character."

"General Kane." Alexander replied coolly, slicing through. "Post-apocalypse, loyalties shift."

He eased back. "Mercer's Julian and my Victoria went to Clearford too. They witnessed the extortion of vast crystal cores from the military. Cross groveled like a lackey. It shamed us all. Gabriel, you're aware?"

Gabriel's lips parted, then closed. "Er… Julian brought it up," he conceded, uneasy.

He'd aimed for neutrality. Still, debate ensnared him.

Benjamin pounced on the shift. "Such acts scream blackmail. Bullying the military with raw might—bold as brass. They demand handling."

"Handling?" Maxwell retorted hotly, fist slamming. "Grasp their might? You toss 'handle' lightly. Failure's price? Catastrophic!"